Page 21 of Trusting Her Bear

I put my hands on my cheeks. I think the last time I dry-humped a man was in high school. The experience was nothing like the one in the closet. I haven’t had tons of experience; with four uncles watching over me, there was little opportunity to have sex. I had a couple of boyfriends in school, but they were human, and I knew it would lead to nothing. After I graduated, I had a little more freedom to choose a partner, but I was never satisfied. I met a lion shifter in my late twenties, and we were attracted, so we slept together off and on for a few years. We both knew it wouldn’t go anywhere, but we were lonely. He finally met his mate, and then it was over.

The scene in the closet tops everything. I still had my clothes on. Shit. I tip back my head. He had a wet spot on his pants. I was equal parts mortified and pleased. Pleased because he wore it with pride and mortified because of the obvious.

The heat is no joke.

The orgasm took some of the edge off, but minutes later, I was turned on again. I watched my mate cook me breakfast, and I was wet. He could do anything, and I would want him. His consideration and patience mean everything.

He knows what I have been through. I could tell, yet he didn’t force me to discuss it. I know I will eventually open up to him. Quinn will want complete transparency. It will work both ways. He has a story to tell, and I can tell he is hesitant to share.

I have to dim my hearing so I don’t invade the client's privacy. My ears can pick up everything for miles around me. It takes practice and time for a shifter to shut off their abilities, but I have lived in a house with lots of noise, so I’ve had lots of experience doing it. Every shifter is taught the basic rules of being a shifter, the most important being “do not reveal that you are one.” There are exceptions to this rule, one being if you find your mate and they are human. I am so glad my mate is a bear. I don’t envy those in our community who have to convince their mate that they aren’t crazy. To a human who didn’t know our ways, it would be odd to automatically give so much trust to a stranger.

We also have to be careful when showing off our strength. A young shifter has to learn to pull back every move. Our bodies are weapons, and we have to choose when it’s necessary to use them.

We use our smell to sense our mates, enemies, friends, species, liars, and danger. Every different breed of shifter has a unique smell, but they also have something underlying that is all their own. The vampires don’t have a smell. The lack of scent in a world full of them is the giveaway. They have an aura that is unique to each vampire. When they meet their mate, a white ring appears around the outside of their eye.

The front door slams open, startling me as it hits the wall, and I jump up. A human barrels inside and straight to the desk. He charges around it, and I move back quickly, hitting my hip on the edge of the wood.

“Where the fuck is she?” he yells as he barrels toward me, and I open my mouth to ask who when Quinn is suddenly there.

Quinn grabs his neck and slams him into the wall. His body vibrates with rage. His feet are braced apart, and his focus is on the angry man's face.

“Steph, move away,” he demands. I quickly move backward until I hit the wall across from them. “I know you like to hit women, but try coming at me.”

“You took her from me,” the man sputters, gasping from the vicious grip on his throat.

“I didn’t take shit.” Quinn glares.

“Fuck yes, you did. She was happy with me, and you put crap in her head. She made it all up. She took my kids, and you helped her,” he accuses.

I am amazed at the restraint Quinn is displaying. He could kill him with a flick of his wrist. His power is alluring.

Quinn leans close and whispers, “She didn’t lie. I saw the fucking bruises. I saw the fear in her eyes and every movement she made. You did that, you piece of shit. She didn’t even have to pay me to help her. I relished the opportunity to make you suffer.”

“Fuck you,” he snaps, his face twisted in rage.

“You enjoyed the pain you caused. What kind of man hits his wife? A coward.”

“She fucking asked for it.” The man narrows his eyes. “If only she would have done what she was told.”

“When she was on the ground while you kicked her, what did she do to deserve that?” Quinn asks, his voice quietly lethal.

“She knows she shouldn’t talk back. She should have shut the fuck up. She doesn’t have the right to question me.”

“So you kicked her, punched her?”

“Fuck yeah, I did. She belongs to me, and those kids belong to me,” he shouts.

Quinn lowers his voice further and whispers in his ear. “You have to earn that belonging. I could kill you now, and the world would rejoice in a piece of shit getting what he deserved. You might have fooled your family, but I can see through you. You don’t deserve a woman. You don’t deserve those kids.” Quinn pulls him away from the wall and wraps his arm around his neck.

I smell rabbit before I see her. Sally strolls through the open door, glancing at Quinn as if this is a regular occurrence, before coming to stand beside me.

The man under Quinn’s control goes limp, his body dropping at his feet.

“Damn, I missed the show,” Sally says.

My mouth drops as I turn to her. “What?”

“The show,” she says, pointing to Quinn. “I bet it was hot.”

---