Beast Behaving Badly

  Marci dropped down next to him. Unlike Blayne and Bo—Marci had been drinking. A lot. He knew this even before she started singing along with The Supremes’ version of “(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave.” Thankfully, most of the gossips were drunk off their ass, too. So hopefully he wouldn’t have to hear tomorrow how “this was a mistake” and “we should have never” or “I should have never” or whatever else she insisted on saying anytime they were nearly “caught.”

  Caught? He got his AARP card the other day in the mail, weren’t they too old to be “caught” in a relationship? He knew she worried about what her cubs would say. They’d adored their dad and with good reason. But they were all adults with cubs of their own.

  That’s when he remembered that Rebecca Luntz-Peters hadn’t left the bar and as was her way, had been nursing one lone beer all night. He glanced over and, yep. She was gaping, her mouth open. Then she was scrambling for her cell phone. Probably to call her older sister in Boston and her younger sister in Nevada.

  Awkward.

  Not sure what else to do, Grigori said, “Let’s dance.”

  He grabbed Marci’s hand and hauled her drunk ass out away from the table and to the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms and held her against him in an attempt to keep her under control.

  “You’re going to regret this in the morning,” he told her.

  “Blayne said I should go for what I want. So I went.”

  Figures it was that damn wolfdog. In town less than three days and all hell was breaking loose! Wasn’t it bad enough she had a dog living under his couch?

  “Maybe you should have made that decision while sober.”

  “I’m not drunk. I’m just fortified. Blayne, however—”

  “Has been drinking Shirley Temples all night.”

  “Yeah. Which are full of sugar.”

  “So?”

  When his black bear only giggled, he had a bad feeling.

  Bo watched his uncle close his truck door and walk around it. “You’ll be all right?” he asked Grigori.

  “Yeah. I’m just going to drive Marci home.”

  “I don’t need you to drive me home, ya bastid. I’m fine.”

  Bo would have believed that more if Dr. Luntz was sitting in the passenger seat rather than on the truck floor, and if she had her eyes open rather than closed. And if she weren’t slurring her words a bit and calling his uncle “bastid.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Grigori rolled his eyes at his nephew. “I’m gonna make sure she gets settled. So, uh.”

  Rather than get an explanation that would just freak him out, Bo cut in, “No problem. Take your time.”

  Grigori nodded at him, got in his truck, and drove off. Bo turned and headed through the woods back to his uncle’s house. He stopped, though, when the burden he carried on his left shoulder slid out of his old hockey pants—that were shorts on him when he was twelve but ski pants on Blayne—and hit the ground. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Bo reached down to grab her, but she’d already taken off running.

  “You’ll so never catch me!” she screamed at him over her shoulder.

  This wouldn’t be so bad if she were drunk like Dr. Luntz. But Blayne was stone-cold sober and on a caffeine-sugar rush the like the world had never known before.

  “Damn you, sugar,” Bo yelled at the heavens. “Damn you!”

  He’d be better off trying to control a six-year-old after straight sugar had been poured into his mouth, rather than a crazed wolfdog running around Ursus County territory in the snow…with no pants on.

  “Blayne Thorpe, get back here!”

  She laughed and kept going, forcing him to run after her twice in one day.

  And if Blayne was fast simply from her combined bloodlines, adding sugar and caffeine to that mix made her a jet, shooting through the woods and other bear’s territory until she reached his uncle’s house. That’s when she stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

  “Don’t move,” Bo said as he carefully approached.

  He almost had her, too, until she yelled, “Catch me!”

  “I don’t want to catch you.”

  “Then I guess you never will!”

  She took off again, laughing, and Bo took several steps back, then charged forward. He planted one foot on the stoop and propelled himself to the roof. He charged up and over it, leaping from the base of it and straight down at Blayne who’d turned to head off into the woods behind Grigori’s house.

  Bo tackled her from behind, his arms going around her and pulling her into his body. She squealed as they sped toward the ground, but he turned and took the brunt of the contact on his shoulder and back.

  They landed hard, Bo knowing from experience that his shoulder had probably taken the worst of it. They lay there for a long moment, both panting, Bo flat on his back and Blayne on top of him, facing up at the dark sky.

  But they didn’t lie there long before Blayne said, “I still wanna run.” She tried to pull out of his arms, but Bo held her tight. “I wanna run,” she insisted.

  “I don’t care, Blayne.”

  “You can’t hold me here, you Visigoth!”

  “I can. I will.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ll run and run and run…with no flippin’ idea of how to get back here. You’ll get lost in the snow and then me and the rest of the town will have to track your ass down. It’s not happening.”

  She let out a breath, her body going lax. But Bo wasn’t fooled. After less than a minute, she desperately tried to wiggle out of his arms again, snarling and snapping at him. He let her do it. He let her snarl and snap and growl and fight and struggle and anything else she could think of. He let her keep it up for what felt like a good thirty to forty minutes while he held her. Then, panting harder than she had before, she sort of dropped against him. Figuring she’d worked her energy off, he got to his feet, still keeping his arms tight around her waist, and carried her into his uncle’s house.

  Once inside, and while still holding her, Bo decided she needed some warm milk. That had always helped him sleep when he was a kid. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt. While Bo put some milk in a saucepan to warm up and threw some logs into the fire-place along with some newspaper before getting the flames good and roaring, he still carried Blayne around. He simply couldn’t risk putting her down yet. Couldn’t risk she’d bolt on him. Especially when he heard the wind pick up outside, another storm hitting them.

  He poured the milk into a mug and carried it and Blayne back into the living room. Once he had her settled on the couch, he handed the mug to her and she took it. That’s when he realized Blayne was shaking, her teeth chattering together. He quickly grabbed one of the blankets off the couch and wrapped it around her legs.

  “Better?”

  She nodded. “It’s so cold.”

  “Your adrenaline rush wore off. And you’re not wearing any pants.”

  “They were too big. You must have been a freakishly sized child.”

  “Which is why Fabi still calls me ‘Speck’?”

  She sipped the milk, scrunched up her face. “Can’t I have some chocolate in”

  “Not in this lifetime.” Or at the very least not tonight. “No sugar, no caffeine. Chocolate has both. You just drink that as it is and relax.”

  She pouted and Bo warned, “And don’t throw it, either. Just drink it, Blayne. Now.”

  “I don’t like plain milk.”

  “I don’t care. Now drink.”

  She did, but if he didn’t know better he’d swear he was force-feeding her arsenic. When she was done, he took the mug and returned it to the kitchen. He thought about washing it now, and normally he would. But for some reason…

  By the time Bo made it into the hallway, Blayne had already sprinted out the front door. He didn’t go after her this time, though. He simply watched.

  Blayne sprinted outside, ready to go for a nice long run. She was soooo bored! She hated being bored. She hated being trapped in one place for to
o long. She hated being unable to do what she wanted, when she wanted. And she knew, once she got her stride, that Bo “I’m God’s gift to the universe and hockey” wouldn’t get close to her. She was that fast. The combo wild dog and wolf speed made her nearly as fast as the cheetahs. The only downside was she didn’t have the cheetah lung capacity, so sometimes when she ran fast for very long stretches, it felt like her chest was going to explode and she sometimes passed out, not waking up for days—but she’d worry about that tomorrow!

  Right now she simply wanted to run and run and run and…

  Holy shit! It’s cold!

  The snow came down in one big blanket, and the wind nearly knocked her off the porch. Squealing, she ran back into the house and slammed the door.

  Bo leaned against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face. Haughty! That was the only way she could explain the expression he wore. Haughty and rude!

  “A little nippy outside?” he asked.

  “Oh, shut up!” She paced by the door, wondering what she would do now. Then she remembered the television.

  She had the remote in her hand and aimed at the TV when Bo walked into the living room behind her and said, “Cable’s out.”

  “What?” She turned on the TV anyway, and there was more snow there than outside. “What the hell?”

  “Cable usually goes out when it snows like this.”

  “It’s like the Dark Ages!” she yelled, shutting off the TV, unable to stand looking at all that fuzzy white, and brought her arm back.

  “Don’t throw the remote,” Bo said. “You break it and Grigori will lose his mind.”

  Growling in frustration, she dropped the remote on the couch and began pacing again.

  “I am so damn bored!”

  “And what are we going to do with you so bored?”

  “I don’t know!”

  He relaxed against the wall. “You could read?”

  “Read?” She wanted to spit at him. “Does it look like I can sit and read for a few hours?”

  “No TV, no running, and no reading… my God, what will you do to get rid of all that excess energy?”

  “I don’t know!” she wailed, despondent.

  “Well, while you think of something, I’m going to bed. Of course, you can join me.”

  “I’m not tired!”

  “Okay. Good luck then. If you need me for anything, I’ll be in bed. Naked.”

  Blayne froze. Naked. Naked Bo. And if she were naked, too…

  She turned around but he was already gone.

  Bastard.

  Bo heard something behind him, but when he looked over his shoulder, he only saw the empty hallway. Shrugging, he faced forward again, and immediately stopped.

  Blayne stood in front of the bedroom door, one hand pressed against the doorway, the other on her waist. How she got past him…

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “So… uh…you busy?”

  “Just going to bed. I’m tired and the sun’s almost up. Mind moving?”

  He tried to step around her, but she crowded up in the corner, blocking him. “Are you really tired?”

  “Exhausted. Had that game and a really late night at the bar. What’s a guy like me to do?”

  “Oh, gee, I don’t know.” She moved into him, wrapping her arms around his chest. “Anything you want?”

  “I get that anyway. What are you offering me that makes you special?”

  Blayne gasped. “You rude, son of a—”

  “That’s what I thought.” He reached around her, opened the door, and stepped into the room.

  “You’re just walking away?”

  “Not walking away. Stepping away. To my bed.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Night, Blayne.” He reached behind him and gathered up his jersey, pulling it over his head. When he shook his hair out of his eyes, Blayne stood in front of him and she still wasn’t wearing any pants. “Yes?” he asked.

  “Let’s lay our cards on the table here. Okay? I don’t have a lot of options right now and,”—she shrugged—“you’ll do.”

  “I’ll do?”

  “Isn’t that good enough at the moment?”

  “No.” He pushed her aside and sat on the bed, removing his boots.

  “Oh, come on, Bo. Help a girl out.”

  He tossed the boots aside and stood. “I could. But what am I getting out of it? It seems one sided, don’t you think?”

  “One sided? You’re getting me! And you’re damn lucky, too!”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  Bo stripped off the rest of his clothes and stretched out on the bed. He placed his hands behind his head and watched her. “You haven’t exactly given me anything to change my mind.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that.” She went for the boots first, but she must have forgotten that she’d laced them up tight in the front so when Blayne tried to slip the right one off by using her left foot, she ended up sprawled flat on the floor. Bo cringed when he heard her hit the hard wood.

  “Blayne?”

  “I’m fine. Just shut up!”

  He heard her muttering about “goddamn knots,” but she eventually got to her now bare feet.

  She’d borrowed someone’s soft hair band to pull her mass of hair into a high ponytail when they were dancing. She tugged it out with one hand, but ended up cursing as stray hairs were caught between the twisted material. That was another three minutes of Blayne trying to get that loose since she wasn’t about to yank it out and risk pulling out what she insisted on calling her “precious tresses” in the process. When she finally got that done, she tossed the hair band aside and shook her hair out. She gave him a small, ridiculously sexy smile, before reaching for the jersey she still had on. She got that off without any problem. And the sweatshirt under that. And the thermal shirt. And the T-shirt because the thermal material made her chest itch.

  By then Bo was laughing so hard he was on his side, curled into a ball.

  “I give up,” she said. “The whole sexy beyond belief thing is just so not me. I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

  That snapped him out of his hysterical laughter and he was up and reaching for her arm before she even got to the door. He tossed her back on the bed, her panicked squeal making him laugh again.

  “Why leave after it took ten hours to finally get you naked.”

  “Gee. Thanks. How can I turn down that offer?”

  “You can’t.”

  “Actually, I think I can. I will.” She tried to get off the bed but Bo had her around the waist, pulling her up against his chest.

  “You can keep running, Blayne. But I’ll eventually catch you.”

  “I’m faster.”

  “I can hold out longer.”

  “Barely.”

  “Enough.” He kissed her neck, her shoulder. “Besides. You need help with all this untapped energy. Can’t have you running around my uncle’s house in circles, now can we?”

  “I can chase my tail for a few hours. That’ll work.”

  “I’ll chase your tail.” He pressed his hand against her groin, forcing her ass to rock back against his hard cock. “You just try not to trip over your own two feet in the process.”

  Bastard. Now she realized why Marci Luntz kept telling her to “watch yourself with those Novikov boys.”

  The man had a way of teasing her until she wanted to punch him while making her wet and horny at the same time. How was that fair?

  One of Bo’s fingers slipped inside her pussy, and Blayne gasped, her hips rocking against his hand while her arms reached back to wrap around his neck. Unable to reach his neck, she settled on his arms and turned her face up so that he could kiss her, his tongue sliding past her lips and invading her mouth. Blayne groaned, her fingers digging into his flesh.

  A second finger slid into her and with his other hand, Bo stroked her clit. He took his time, leaning over her shoulder so he could watch as his han
ds slowly and deftly brought her off.

  She panted, her body weakening, as the orgasm tore through her.

  Bo’s fingers left her, and Blayne went to lie down. That’s when he grabbed her legs, lifting her up until her knees rested on his shoulders.

  “Hey!”

  With her clit still sensitive from the recent orgasm, Blayne winced when Bo’s mouth pressed against her pussy, his tongue first teasing her clit, then those goddamn lips.

  Blayne squealed. “Wait!” she begged. “Wait!”

  Blue eyes changing to gold watched her. The brown mane beneath the white was now longer, reaching past his shoulders.

  “Bo!” She tried to twist away from him, but his grip on her thighs was powerful and unrelenting. His lips began to twist and turn her clit, and Blayne’s body shook as another orgasm built and built, finally ripping through her. Her neck arched and she screamed out her release, her hands able to reach the ceiling to steady herself.

  When the last shudder rocked through her, she was laid out on the bed and Blayne opened her eyes. Bo stared down at her, one hand petting her cheek.

  She reached out for him with both arms, but he took hold of her wrists, gripping them in one hand, and pushing them over her head and into the mattress.

  “Wait—”

  It was too late. He licked his lips, studied her chest for a moment, and then leaned down, licking her nipple. His lips wrapped around it and Bo tugged, pulled, while his free hand was busy invading her pussy again with his fingers.

  Blayne, too weak to fight at this point, could only groan and wait for it. She waited and it hit, slamming into her, careening through her system. She came hard, her body writhing beneath Bo’s, the sensation that her arms were pinned, increasing the intensity until she exploded around the hybrid who’d done this to her.