Shifters' Storm Part 9

"It's complicated. Do you really care?"

"I must."

54.

"Of course. That was stupid for me to say. Sorry. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that we're having this conversation."

"So am I."

"I, ah, didn't think about that. All right, when the elk shifters are in human form, they're strong, hard workers. Not a single man is motivated by money. They simply need to be doing something physical. Only this area doesn't need any more strong backs. Men like some of those who were in the Sawmill resent having to compete with shifters for the few timber jobs."

Much as he tried to comprehend what she'd just told him, human concerns mattered little. Physical activity was essential, being rewarded for that activity a foreign concept.

"A question," she said. "One I never in a million years thought I'd be asking. When the Enyeto have on their human skins, what do they do? I mean, how do you earn a living?" He held up his big, scarred hands. "I build."

"Construction?"

"Because of the elements, road work never ends in Alaska."

"Okay. All right. No." Turning away a little, she pressed her hand against the windowpane. He imagined the night cold seeping into her flesh. "Not all right. Where do I fit into this?" Much as he wanted to wait until there was more between them, he couldn't. Better, maybe, to say it now. "As my mate."

Shock transformed her, but even with the loss of color in her cheeks, she was still beautiful to him.

Knife now clenched in both hands, she stalked toward him. "Get the h.e.l.l out of here."

"Rane-"

"Listen to me, Ber." The knife tip touched the base of his throat. Her eyes raged. "I'm dealing with my mother's murder. I'm a strong woman, maybe stronger than any you've ever known. I want nothing to do with you, get it? Nothing!"

When this was all over, she was going to head for someplace warm and sit in the sun until her flesh shriveled like a forgotten piece of fruit. She'd chug fruity drinks with tiny umbrellas in them and flirt with shirtless hunks. Hopefully bed a few of them. Maybe, although she was a bit young for it, she'd pick up a toy boy and parade him around. Of course she'd have to become something resembling rich if she was going to attract them, but she could dream.

Mostly she wanted the sun on her back and no worries. No murder mystery and absolutely no shape-shifters. Positively no d.a.m.nable bear-man wanting to hump her.

55.

Rechecking the front lock, Rane admitted that her crazy thoughts were a temporary shield against reality, a d.a.m.n ineffective shield. Cabanas and bikinis aside, she was heading for her bedroom, which happened to be at the back of a house stuck in the middle of a forest and maybe a grizzly waiting outside.

No more bear thoughts, she warned as she crawled between the sheets. And no thinking about what Songan was doing to what tonight.

Stretching out, she willed the homeopathic sleeping aid she'd taken to do its job. Any other woman in her position would be fighting sleep. That woman would be sitting in the lighted living room with a loaded gun sweeping from the door to window and back again.

Then again that decidedly more intelligent woman would have already called 911 and be speeding away.

"Mom," she whispered, "would you be disappointed if I just let the sheriff's department do their job?

I mean, what do I think I am, some psycho avenger?"

No, she wasn't. Even at her most insane right after she'd learned her mother had been murdered, she hadn't believed that of herself. She simply was someone who'd lost her mother in a way no child ever should.

To complicate her life, she sometimes had s.e.x with a half elk, half human, and as of tonight a bear shifter was l.u.s.ting after her and determined to return.

l.u.s.ting. s.e.x. Two conditions guaranteed to have her climbing the walls. Maybe not the wall thing.

More like trying to ignore the hot fingers currently slipping over her body. Darn it, she'd had s.e.x today.

She shouldn't be sliding her hand between her legs and jumping when a practiced thumb touched her waiting and willing flesh.

Her nipples tightened, prompting her to work her free hand under her nightgown and finger her sensitive nubs. A little friction made them ache and quickened her breathing. The hand against her s.e.x quieted. Moisture oozed over her fingers. Fighting to ignore her body's encouragement, she sighed and rolled onto her back. Bending her knees so she could play with herself seemed like too much work after the day she'd had. Besides, her nipples had started to soften.

She was exhausted, worn out physically and mentally and every other way. She hadn't become less of a s.e.xual creature simply because she didn't feel like masturbating tonight. Tomorrow, if she lasted until then, was soon enough for...

Her breathing slowed, and the time between each inhale increased. At the back of her mind she wondered if falling asleep was the last thing she should be doing; still, it felt so good to let go.

At first, gray dominated. Then the fog thickened and was replaced by black. Night, probably. Night, and no moon and trees between her and the stars. Maybe clouds had gotten in the way of the sky.

Too much to think about. Drifting was better. Sinking into-into something.

56.

She was walking, lightly stepping on packed ground and lifting one leg and then the other over random rotting logs. Being barefoot wasn't a problem, because nothing was there to poke the bottom of her feet. It was good to have tough feet. And strong legs. And no clothes between her and the warm breeze.

Ah yes, the temperature was just right. Maybe the most perfect she'd felt in her entire life. She couldn't see where she was going and yet wasn't concerned. She could, she guessed, stop and figure things out, but walking felt like floating, and that was awesome.

Wherever she was belonged to her, and yet she shared it with something living. Maybe a lot of somethings. Of course. Critters and creatures, birds and insects. Maybe frogs. Thinking she might step on something living if she wasn't careful, she looked down. As far as she could tell, which wasn't much, nothing was ahead of her, but maybe that was because her feet had never intrigued her as they did now.

Men would love her toes. She could tickle and stroke certain male body parts with them, but only if the man met certain criteria.

Intrigued by possibilities, she pondered how a man or men might please her. Having s.e.x, of course, but not just getting it on and getting it over. She'd insist on variety, the unusual, the heretofore unknown.

The word unknown had her looking up and around. It might be her imagination, but wasn't it getting warmer and wasn't night giving way to a soft, shadow-filled dawn?

Logic said that wasn't right. Night lasted longer than this. But she didn't complain since daylight was better. Once she could truly see, she might start to make sense of what was happening.

Determination lasted for as long as it took her to cover about a hundred feet. Then, maybe in response to the air's growing warmth, she contemplated her naked body. Movement rolled through her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to send sensation over her belly and from there to her p.u.s.s.y.

Not giving a d.a.m.n what the resident creatures and critters might think, she cradled her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The wavelike movement floated from her palms to her fingers. When the aftershocks tiptoed up her arms and claimed her shoulders, she shivered.

Interesting. Walking braless had turned her on.

Thinking to play things out to the fullest extent, she cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and lengthened her stride.

There still weren't any obstacles in the way, and morning was full upon her. A few shadows remained among the trees.

With each step, her thighs brushed. Each caress of flesh against flesh ignited her s.e.x a little more.

Sighing in pleasure, she ran her hands down her sides and spread them over her thighs.

Despite the unexpected thought that she should hurry away from wherever she was, she slowed. Every part of her was engaged in the act of walking, and yet it was more than that. Curious about what that more might be, she brought virgin air into her lungs. Oxygen fed her veins and heart and filled her muscles with warm energy. Something she couldn't see or touch started circling around her and brought her fully in touch with herself.

57.

She was a s.e.xual being, a woman who had s.e.x with a man who felt most alive when he was impregnating one cow elk after another. She'd never carry his child, but that didn't mean she didn't worship his c.o.c.k.

Oh yes, a c.o.c.k, the organ that said everything about what made a man a man.

A moan pressed against her teeth and then escaped. Intrigued, she stopped and concentrated on the fading sound. When she could no longer hear it, she vigorously rubbed her thighs. The friction sent a hot rage between her legs. Her heartbeat doubled, and she nearly collapsed.

Too much time pa.s.sed before she was strong enough to look around. Her body still felt s.e.xually used up. No longer trusting herself or her surroundings, she lifted her hands off her thighs and wrapped them around her waist. If this was what touching an electric fence felt like, she'd do it again and again, later.

This wasn't happening. She was dreaming. No doubt about it, she'd never had a more vivid or s.e.xually productive dream, but she hadn't lost contact with reality.

Reality? Where was it?

Still clutching her waist, she slowly turned in a circle. The tree shadows she'd dismissed earlier now seemed sinister, but that couldn't be right, because she'd never feared anything in the wilderness.

Only this wasn't the wilderness she knew. This terrain was the product of her imagination, wasn't it?

Growing more alarmed, she stared intently at the trail she'd been traveling on. Despite being well tended, it didn't seem to be heading anywhere. For all she knew, she was walking in a circle.

It was time to wake up. So what if she spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling? At least she'd have control over- Something to her left and slightly behind her whispered. Heart slamming, she started to turn toward it, only to stare disbelieving as a rope loop appeared over her head. It hovered there, tantalizing her. Then gravity claimed it, and it floated down to settle around her. Before she could think what she should do, the rope tightened, pinning her arms to her sides. She tried to shake it off but couldn't.

More confused than panicked, she stumbled backward, pulled about by tension on the rope. She'd been la.s.soed, but by who? And why?

The tension continued, compelling her to take several more steps. Someone was playing games with her! Treating her like some cow or bronc being readied for branding.

"d.a.m.n you!" she cried and dug her feet into the ground. Widening her stance, she leaned forward and braced herself. Two could play at this-this whatever it was.

At least the rope, although unforgiving, didn't abrade her flesh. In fact it was quite comfortable, all except for the unrelenting and inescapable part. Now that she'd had a few seconds in which to process things, she allowed as how she certainly wasn't a cow or wild horse, no one had any reason to want to slap a brand on her.

58.

Determined to locate and hopefully identify the rope's owner, she looked back over her shoulder but couldn't see anything except the glimpse of a shadow directly behind her.

"Not funny. Whoever you are, knock it off."

To her shock, the shadow started circling, wrapping more rope around her as it did. No, she acknowledged when two white strands rendered her arms completely useless, this was no game. She'd been captured. By a man.

59.

Chapter Nine.

Rane's captor was at least six and a half feet tall with a warrior's body and the thickest, darkest hair she'd ever seen. He needed a shave. Like her, he wore nothing. Unlike her, he was in control.

Overwhelmed by his greater size and the way his ebony eyes burned into her, she put up no resistance as he placed a third loop around her. She couldn't lift her arms and yet her circulation wasn't being cut off.

He stepped closer. She commanded herself to fight but didn't. Feeling stupid and trapped and excited, she watched as he did something to the rope in front. The backs and sides of his hands grazing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s confused and thrilled her. He was doing that on purpose, d.a.m.n him, yet it felt so good.

When he stepped back, she realized he'd tied a knot in his handiwork, guaranteeing that the bonds would remain in place as long as he wanted them to. Dropping the loose end so it trailed over her belly and against her mons before hanging between her legs, he folded his arms over his chest and studied her.

Caught. His.

"I don't understand." She hated the squeak in her voice, but maybe it would keep him from figuring out she was more turned on than frightened. "What's this about?"

"About you learning what I'm capable of and you need. What I'll do to achieve what I must." Ber's voice! Why hadn't she recognized him? "I told you to leave, that I want nothing to do with you.

I meant it then, and I mean it now." All except for the pulsing in her p.u.s.s.y.