Bloodrunner Bear (Harper's Mountains Book 2) (12 page)

She could. Nothing was stopping her. It’s not like she could Turn him into a human. It would just be a mark that told other woman to back the fuck off her man, and right now that sounded pretty damn good.

Could she tap into her animal side and actually bite him, though? Could she hurt him with her teeth?

Aaron drew out of her and thrust hard again. She was getting close to another orgasm. He drove her farther up the bed, spread his knees wider, and bucked against her again and again, harder and harder. His hand tightened at the back of her hair, and he rasped out a word that changed everything. “Please.”

And she was lost to the moment, his hand pulling her to him, his dick swelling inside of her, every tensed muscle in his body curved around her in a way that begged her to bite him.

Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw and pierced his skin.

“Harder,” he demanded.

Clutching at his back as he pounded into her, she bit him as hard as she could. Warmth trickled into her mouth, but Aaron didn’t even flinch in pain. Instead, he clutched her tighter as the sound in this throat rumbled through her mind, filling her senses. She released him and threw her head back as he slammed into her, faster, faster. Gone. She was gone. Every nerve in her body reached for him. His skin was too hot right now, but she didn’t want to ever disengage. She would burn before she let him go.

Aaron let off a helpless noise as he slammed into her and froze. His shaft swelled and pulsed inside of her with the first shot of release, and her body reacted with the first explosive pulse of another orgasm. She screamed Aaron’s name because nothing had felt like this, nothing in her life had been as big as this moment, as mind-blowing. Desperately, she moved her hips against his as pulse after pulse rocked her body. Aaron eased back by inches, then rammed her, shooting another hot jet of seed into her.

Now, she was hot on the inside, too. How could another person consume her like this? How could he make every cell in her body
feel
him? She was a matchstick and Aaron was fire.

Burying his face against her neck, Aaron twitched over and over, slower and slower until both of their aftershocks had faded away.

She thought he would pull away and disappear into the bathroom like the other men in her life had done, but instead Aaron lifted her up, straddled her on his lap, and just sat there on the edge of the bed, holding her. Rocking her. Smelling her neck. Rubbing her back right along her spine with such a gentle touch it made her want to cry for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Moments ago, he’d been wild and barely in control, but now he was showing a tenderness she’d never seen in any man.

His shoulders were tense, so she cared for him, massaging them until he relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, successfully confusing the hell out of her.

Easing back, she said, “It’s okay. That was…” Helpless, she shook her head. There wasn’t a word big enough. Dipping her voice to a whisper, she murmured, “That was everything.”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to bite me.”

His neck had bled freely, red trickling down and pooling in the bowl created by his collar bone.

The guilt settled in. “Does it hurt?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just wanted to take things as slow as you wanted.”

An accidental smile stretched her lips.

“What?” he asked.

“You were successful, Aaron Keller. We took it as slow as I wanted, and apparently, I wanted to bite you.” She made chomping sounds against his throat and then giggled when he tickled her waist.

“Swear,” he demanded, but at least his voice was lighter now, less growly. “Swear you aren’t mad at me for pushing us.”

“So worried for nothing,” she murmured. His eyes reflected strangely in the moonlight. “Silly beast, worrying about the feelings of your prey.”

“No, Alana.” Aaron ran his thumb reverently over the deep scar on her lip. When he pulled his hand back, blood was smeared on it. “You’re the beast, and I’m your prey. My heart is yours. My bear, my life, everything. You can have it all. Just give me a chance to make you happy.”

He was asking her to stay, and she already knew her answer. She’d known it from the moment she’d admitted to him how she wished she was stronger, and he’d deemed her good enough. Her heart felt bound to him in ways she’d never been able to fathom before it happened. This was the moment she’d always dreamed of—the moment when she belonged to another completely, and he belonged to her.

There would be no leaving Bryson City now. There would be no more planning a perfect future. There would only be building a new one here, with Aaron.

Alana sighed and slid her arms around his neck, rested her cheek against his shoulder, and kissed the claiming mark she’d given him. “Whether you Turn me or not, I’m yours, Aaron. I’m not going anywhere. As long as you want me to stay, I will.”

“Always,” he murmured, rocking her gently.

Dreamily, she asked, “Hmm?”

She could feel his smile against her cheek as he let his lips linger there. “I want you to stay for always.”

Alana’s eyes burned with emotion. What a beautiful offer that was. Having a man she cared for so completely asking her to put down roots deep and wide—to intertwine them with his own and start a future with him. Her life here wasn’t ending as she’d been convinced it was. Aaron had come in and breathed brilliance into this place, made her see herself and her list of plans differently.

Always.

Alana smiled and hugged him closer.

Always was a good start.

Bam, bam, bam!

Alana yelped and sat up in bed, scrambling with the sheet to keep her boobs covered. “What is happening?” She searched frantically for Aaron, but his side of the bed was empty.

When the muffled sound of laughter drifted through the log walls, she sighed with relief. The banging picked up again, and she blew a curl out of her face, then slid out of bed, dragging the entire sheet with her.

First, she peeked out the bedroom door to the living room and kitchen, but the house seemed to be empty. Alana shut the bedroom door and made her way to the bathroom as waves of masculine voices floated this way and that through the walls. She expected to be horrified when she looked in the mirror, but she was pleasantly surprised, likely do to the epic and thorough boinking Aaron had given her last night. Her hair was Texas-big but her curls had held, and her cheeks had a rosy tint to them. She didn’t look exhausted like she did most mornings. Just happy.

What time was it?

She picked up Aaron’s watch on the counter and gasped at how late it was. Ten o’clock? She’d practically slept all day! Thank goodness for her part-time employee, Marina, running the café on Fridays so Alana could have a day off to pick up her nieces from school and spend the evening in Asheville. Lissa had always been so protective and borderline judgmental. Alana had never dated a guy Lissa was pleased with. It was as if her twin sister had taken over the role of mom after their mother had passed. She was pretty sure Dad would be an easier sell on Aaron than Lissa would be, but okay. She would have to be brave and just lay it out on the line because she loved Aaron.

Loved Aaron?

Alana’s reflection looked utterly shocked, and then she grinned. Yeah, that felt right. She loved him. Maybe it was fast for normal people, but Aaron was different. Their relationship was different.

“He’s the one,” she whispered, excitement nearly doubling her over as she tried to keep her happy squeal in her throat.

Lissa could get on board or not, but Alana was doing this. On second thought, though, maybe she wouldn’t mention how she’d bitten Aaron last night. Lissa wouldn’t understand it was special and not gross.

She readied for the day quickly so she could see Aaron sooner, and by the time she bounced out of the house and onto the saggy front porch, she was nearly humming from the inside out with anticipation.

“There she is,” Ryder drawled from his place lying face down on an old plastic lawn lounger in the yard. He was wearing gym shorts and a smile and nothing else.

“Hey,” Aaron said from the side of the cabin where he was holding up a dark green shutter next to the window while Weston drilled it in. Aaron’s smile stretched across his entire face and landed in his blue eyes. He usually gelled his longer hair back, but today it was loose and falling in his face on once side, and he hadn’t shaved this morning, so his jaw glistened with blond stubble. A white skin-tight sweater clung to his muscular torso, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing those tattoos she found so gosh-dang sexy. How had she ever thought they made him look like a bad boy? Aaron was a good man.

“I’ve got the rest of this one,” Weston murmured around a couple of screws hanging out of his mouth.

Aaron pushed off the shutter and strode directly over to her, hopped up onto the porch, and squared up to her. With an easy smile that shook up the butterflies in her stomach, he leaned down and sipped at her lips until she melted against him. Resting his forehead on hers, he murmured, “Damn, it was hard not to wake you up.”

“You missed me?”

His grin widened, and his cheeks turned a rosy color.

“Oh my gosh, are you blushing?” she asked.

Ryder made an offended sound in his throat. “Aaron, hold on tighter! Don’t let go of your man card.”

Aaron shook his head and bit his bottom lip as his cheeks turned redder. And now the butterflies in her stomach turned to falcons as her own cheeks heated with pleasure. Big, burly tatted-up, feral shifter, and Aaron Keller was blushing for her?

“Next one,” Weston said.

Aaron squeezed Alana’s ass firmly, gave her a wink, and made his way to a pair of dark green shutters that were lying in the grass near 1010. When movement caught her eye, Alana looked up to see Wyatt pacing the road by the gate. His voice echoed through the clearing as he called, “Anything yet?”

“No, Wyatt!” Ryder yelled. “Queen Sky Lizard hasn’t called us, and if she wanted you to know where she was, she would’ve sent you a memo.” Ryder stretched his fingers for a small blue cooler that was just out of his reach and grunted. “Alana,” he whined.

“Are you serious?” she asked, highly amused as he wiggled on his stomach closer to the edge of the white lounge chair.

“I’ll be your best friend.”

“Sorry, man,” Aaron said, holding up another shutter for Weston to screw in on the other side of the front window. “Her best friend card is full.”

“Second best friend,” Ryder amended. He reached half-heartedly again, wiggling his fingers pathetically. “Please,” he rasped.

“Helpless man,” she said through a giggle as she pulled a drink out of the cooler. “A canned margarita? Really?” Whose man card was in danger now?

“And that straw.” Ryder pointed to a green swirly straw resting inside the cooler.

Alana shook her head, opened his margarita, and shoved the straw in, and all the while she lectured him. “Ryder, if you’re trying to tan your pasty skin, maybe don’t do it when it’s forty degrees and cloudy.”

He slurped out of the can and sighed like he’d been parched. “I saved a seat for you.”

“Where?”

He moved his foot over a few inches. “Just there. On the corner. Second best friends only.”

“Don’t touch me with your feet.”

He smiled sweetly around the swirly straw. With his freckles and muscles and bright red hair, she imagined he got whatever he wanted from the ladies. Usually men like him annoyed her, but Ryder was funny, so she pulled out a margarita of her own, shook the ice off the top lip, and sat on the corner of his lounger.

“We can share the straw if you want?” Ryder offered.

“Ew, no.” She swatted his legs to make more room because her ass needed more than the four inches of space he’d made for her.

“Anything?” Wyatt asked from the gate.

Ryder thrashed around dramatically and pushed his torso off the lounger. “No, Wyatt! Harper’s a fucking fire-breathing dragon, and she doesn’t need to be coddled! She’s probably in town getting you a two-month anniversary present or something else equally disgusting.”

Wyatt went quiet, and Ryder settled back to slurp on his straw.

“Our two-month anniversary was last Friday,” Wyatt called.

Ryder’s eyes went dead. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Aaron tossed Alana a grin over his shoulder as though he was as amused as she was.

When he let go of the shutter, it held. Wiping his dusty hands on his pants, he made his way to the back of a jacked-up truck with the tailgate down. There were piles of supplies inside, including yet another pair of green shutters. They didn’t really go with the rustic cabin, though.

“What are you guys doing?” she asked.

“This is what it looks like when shifters go insane,” Ryder explained.

“Not insane, just superstitious,” Aaron murmured, pulling old rusty screws from the cheap plastic.

“When Weston had his first dream about you, he called home and asked for the shutters of an old trailer that got passed around the crews when we were growing up. And if that isn’t crazy enough, we had to stop by the feed store in town to buy this.” Ryder reached behind the lounger and picked up a small plastic cage filled with wood chips. Inside was a little black and white mouse dragging a giant nutsack.

Alana startled and moved to the edge of the seat when Ryder shoved the cage closer to her. “Are you going to eat him?” she cried.

“What? Why would I eat him?” Ryder asked. Realization spread across his face so fast his ears moved back. “Oh, because I’m an owl shifter?” He shook his head like he’d never been so disappointed in all his life. “I eat steak, Alana. Cooked steak.” He shoved the mouse cage in her lap and plopped down. “My own second best friend…”

“I apologize for him,” Weston said. “He was raised by animals.”

Alana laughed and relaxed back onto the seat to better see the little mouse that was eating a pile of seeds in the cage. If she ignored the giant nards, he was pretty dang cute with his little pink ears and teeny tiny whiskers. “What’s his name?”

“Sammy Scrotum.”

“Dammit, Ryder,” Weston growled from around the screws in his mouth. “I told you we aren’t naming him Sammy Scrotum.”

“Fine. Swampnuggets. Timmy Testes. Gary Gonads. Double Truffles. I mean come
on
, Weston, the little guy has an awesome set of ’em. It’s like dragging a damn trophy everywhere he goes, and you’re going to deprive him of a warrior’s name?”

Alana pursed her lips against her laugh because Weston looked really annoyed at Ryder now.

“How about Alana picks the name?” Aaron said. “He’s really for her, right?”

“Okay, I choose Sammy Scrotum, and what do you mean?”

Ryder pumped his fist at the name she chose and then explained, “The old trailer, ten-ten, was magic. It always had a resident mouse running around in it for as long as I could remember.”

“But why are you doing this for me?”

“Because we want to keep you,” Weston said. He locked his bright green gaze on hers and dared her to look away. “I’m superstitious because I know there are some things that are unexplainable. If there is a tiny fraction of a chance that the shutters from the old trailer and a mouse in the house can make you any safer, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Okay then.

Aaron jerked his attention to the front of the property, and a moment later, Ryder and Weston swung their gazes that way, too. Wyatt was already pulling open the gate.

“She’s baaaack,” Ryder drawled softly, sitting up. “Wyatt’s gonna be pissed.”

“Why?” Alana asked.

Aaron came to stand beside Alana, hands on his hips as he sighed a troubled sound. “Because Harper ordered the three of us to stay put and keep Wyatt distracted so she could do something reckless.”

“Reckless how?” Alana asked, but the boys had gone still and silent, watching grimly as the white diesel pickup truck bumped and bounced up the road toward them. Harper parked in the yard by Weston’s truck, then got out slowly.

Her arm was covered in streams of red, but she didn’t seem to favor it as she slammed the door. And when Harper swung her gaze to Alana, both of her eyes were glowing blue with elongated pupils. Alana hunched inward instinctively and clutched Sammy Scrotum’s cage tightly to her stomach. Right now, something about Harper amped up her instinct to flee.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Wyatt asked, horror and fury tainting his voice as he brushed his finger down his mate’s arm. The blood was dry.

“It’s healed, let it be. Crew meeting.”

Alana squeezed Aaron’s hand and moved to excuse herself.

“Alana, you stay. You’re part of this now.” Harper approached slowly, lifted her chin, and then with a slow blink, looked at the bite Alana had made on Aaron’s neck. “Aaron, the vamps won’t come after your mate again.”

Aaron swallowed hard, his face angled away as he exposed his throat to his dragon-blooded alpha. “What did you do?”

“I went to Aric’s house, and then I ripped the boards off his basement windows and let the sunlight in.”

“Is he dead?” Aaron asked in a hard voice.

Harper sighed, but the breath was punctuated by a soft prehistoric rumble that lifted the fine hairs all over Alana’s body. “No, he isn’t dead. Singed yes, but not to ashes. There is still a part of me that wants to avoid a war with the vamps. I have a feeling we would lose lives on both sides, and I can’t stomach the thought that I could’ve avoided that. This is his last warning, though. I recited the names and addresses of every member of the Asheville Coven to him and warned him that I
will
drag every fucking one of his vamps from their beds and into the sunlight if any one of us is harmed again.”

“I had it handled,” Aaron gritted out.

“It isn’t your responsibility to handle it alone, Aaron. Look at your neck. Look at Wyatt’s.” Harper jammed a finger at the thick scarring on her mate’s neck. “Mine.” She gestured to faint scars on her own throat. “And now Alana’s? Too many people in my crew have been bitten, and Aric’s attack last night proved they aren’t finished with their destruction. I’m fucking done giving those bloodsuckers chances to kill us. Things are changing as of now. We’re shifters, born of some of the most powerful bloodlines in the world, and we’ve been rolling over trying to tiptoe down lines other supernaturals have drawn. This is where we draw our own line.”

“How did you find their addresses?” Wyatt asked in a careful tone.

“I began tracking them the night after you killed the queen.”

“Whoa,” Ryder said, sounding impressed. “Damon Junior.”

Harper’s eyes flashed with anger. “My grandfather isn’t here, and he has nothing to do with what happens to us. I’m not Damon Junior. I’m Harper of the Bloodrunners, and my patience in this matter is done. Any slight done to you by the vampires, you bring it to me. That’s an order.” Her voice shook with barely checked rage. “If a single…hair…is harmed on one of your heads, I will burn the Asheville Coven to nothing and devour their ashes.”