Voice low and chest rumbling, he assured her, “You don’t need to go anywhere.”
“I feel like I do.” This man was the freaking king of mixed signals. When she wiggled, curious to see if he’d let her go or not, the top of her ass brushed something hot and hard. “Are you naked?”
“Yeah. My clothes are somewhere downriver.”
Blinking stupidly at the sun and trying to convince herself not to rub her butt on him again, she asked, “Why did you lose control?”
His chin settled on her head, and he curled around her in a shockingly comforting gesture, then admitted, “He wanted to bite you.”
Fern froze for a split second before going limp, attempting to slip out from his hold. His arm tightened across her chest like he thought she was falling.
“Okay, so I’m not safe,” she said unconvincingly, because she felt pretty fucking safe at that moment.
Elliott loosened his grip, moving his hands to her hips, driving her awareness of him sky high. His pinkies settled at the tops of her thighs along the seam of her bikini, and when his fingers flexed, it sent heart-stammering shivers straight to her pussy.
“Not to eat you, Fern. To mark you.”
She twisted, wanting to face him, but he tightened his hold, intensifying those shivers and ensuring she stayed facing away. Did this have to do with mating? “Does your bear have a crush on me?”
After a slow, deep inhale, he said, “You could say that,” and moved oneof his hands away.
That was her opening. Spinning in a tight circle, she focused on his chest hair while asking, “Doyouhave a crush on me?”
His answer meanteverything. She’d been partially honest about not looking for a relationship, in the sense that she’d had enough bad luck in the past to not seek them out in the future. The right one would find her, though. But this wasn’t the right one… she didn’t think. Still, she wasn’t opposed to keeping things casual to get the goods.
She’d never been known for great decision-making.
Idly, he massaged her hip like he was sculpting her, and Fern groaned as she pulsed again. It wasn’t a complicated question, and she’d really like a fucking answer.
A gruff sound came from his throat, and her falling hopes yanked her gaze down farther to where his hand was covering his cock—poorly.
Sucking in a breath, she forced her eyes up and studied his trimmed beard, glinting auburn in the sunlight, while the hair on his head hung loose, bearing no trace of red. Wild and caught in the breeze, a lock blew in front of his eyes, but he ignored it, leaving his hands where they were needed.
“You have no reason to fear for your safety,” Elliott said, totally avoiding her question.
That was a no. With a sigh, she shrank away, but he slid his hand around to the back of her hip and held tight.
“Our animals don’t attack humans. We’re too closely connected to humanity to act like traditional predators.”
“Well then, what the hell was that?” Lifting her arm to gesture downstream, she ran into his bicep and unwisely let her fingers rest there. “At first, I thought you were a wild bear.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did they not tell you yesterday? Other predators don’t come close to Beckett Falls because we smell wrong to them.”
That was helpful information, very helpful, actually, but it wasn’t what she wanted to know. Squeezing his arm, she asked, “Are you going to avoid all the important questions?”
“Probably.”
She huffed, and as his gaze softened further, found the fortitude to ask, “Are youintome? I mean, aside from the ‘no relationship’ thing—’cause I’m cool with just screwing around, you know. Did you... want to do that?”
He stared at her long enough she parsed out the true color of his irises. They weren’t hazel like she’d originally thought, they were unique, like him. Dark blue rings surrounded the bronze central starbursts; he had that—what was it called—central heterochromia going on. She considered sweeping her thumb over his cheekbones and sliding her fingers into his hair, but the whole “him ignoring her question” thing had her pulling away again.
Elliott didn’t like that... or his bear didn’t. A growl tumbled from his chest as he planted a second hand on her hip and tugged her close.
“Yes.” He finally answered a question—who knew which one—and dropped his mouth to hers.
Shit. He was a phenomenal kisser.
She shoved a hand in his hair and gripped his bicep like a lifeline, like he might turn and run off at any moment. Rumbling something unintelligible, he hoisted her into the air.
