When he moved behind her she knew. And I thought I was the perv.

“Okay. Go.”

She teased him, sliding the skirt up slowly, giving him the show he so obviously wanted. She even made sure to wiggle her ass as the skirt slid up those final few inches, causing it to sway enticingly.

He moved in close behind her, lifting his hair and sliding it over her shoulders until it cascaded over her breasts. “Hold still, sweetheart.”

Cyn did as he asked, wondering what he was going to do next. She didn’t have to wait long. He slid his hands under the skirt and palmed her ass. He began nibbling on her neck again. “You like this?”

It had potential. “You going to do anything besides feel me up?”

“I was thinking of fucking you. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Oh. No. That’s okay.” He was suddenly stroking her pussy, his fingers playing with the curls. “Fucking’s good.”

I have got to stop sounding like a squeaky toy when he touches me there.

He licked another spot on her neck. “Walk forward.”

Forward was the stairway. Were they going upstairs? She was so ready to be fucked into the mattress.

Cyn took a tentative step forward and Julian moved in sync with her, the two of them awkward in all the right ways.

Suddenly she was pushed forward, her hands landing on one of the steps. “Have I mentioned how much I love your ass?”

She squirmed as he stroked the round globes. “You’re not going there.” Not now, anyway. If they ever did that, she was going to be well prepared, well lubed, and well and truly drunk. He wasn’t about to go where no man had gone before without making sure both her inside and her outside were greased.

He laughed. “That’s not the hole I’m looking for.”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “So what are you looking for?”

He grinned that evil, Grinchy grin, and got on his knees behind her. Within seconds his tongue was in her pussy and she was nearly on her knees herself. She went up on her toes as he found a really good spot to suck. “Oh God. Jules.” Her hands clenched in the carpet. The pleasure was overwhelming. She folded her arms on the step and rested her head on them, watching her red skirt sway gently as her mate ate her out.

She began to push back against him. She needed something larger than his tongue in her. “Fuck me, Jules.”

He gave her one last swipe before he stood. “Sure you don’t want to come first?”

She growled, low and inhuman. If her mate didn’t get his dick in her in the next two seconds she was going to jump his ass and do it herself.

Julian grasped her hips in a firm grip and pulled her back. He slid into her with a moan, his hips slapping against her ass at the force. He leaned over her and placed his hands on either side of her head, his hair a curtain around them, locking them in their own little world.

“Tug on my hair. Play with it. Do whatever you want,” he whispered in her ear. She shivered as he gave her shoulder a gentle bite, not strong enough to break the skin. He ground his hips against her, driving his cock even deeper. “I wanted to do this the minute I saw this skirt.”

She shifted position until she was kneeling on the steps. She spread her legs wider, wanting him as deep as he could get. “Give it to me.” She tugged his hair hard and was rewarded by his Bear growl.

Fuck. She never thought hearing him growl like that would be such a turn-on.

She tugged on his hair again and Julian went wild, pulling upright to pound into her with such force she had to brace herself on the step. He kept pulling her toward him as he fucked her until she got the message and began thrusting back, making them both work for it. She stroked her clit furiously, ready to come. “Jules. God, Jules.”

With a strangled groan he came, pouring inside her in a hot wave.

Shit. She was so. Damn. Close. Just two more seconds. That was all she—

Razor-sharp fangs sank into her and she screamed, coming in a white wave of pleasure so brutal she nearly passed out.

Julian draped himself over her and panted in her ear. “I love this skirt.”

Damn it. There went those stupid, happy giggles again. One of these days she was going to have to admit why he made her so happy all the fucking time.

He kissed the side of her neck and helped her to her feet. “Bed.”

“Bed,” she agreed, and staggered up the stairs with him. Snuggling down with him in the warmth of his bedroom both scared her silly and made her yearn to say three simple words. She snuggled up against him as they drifted off together, her last thought one of self-preservation.

But not today.

Finding Ryan was turning out to be harder than she thought. It was like the man had fallen off the face of the earth. The amazing Super Bear said he couldn’t sense Ryan, even when they left the town limits. They’d spent two whole days just combing the campus, only to come up empty-handed.

Today, Julian was returning to work and Cyn was going with him. She was looking forward to seeing him do what he loved. And it was obvious he loved helping people. He put on those blue scrubs, and his whole face lit up. His smile was brighter, his walk lighter. There was a sparkle in his eye that had been missing for the last few days. Just listening to him chatter about his upcoming day while they ate breakfast together was enough to drive home one simple fact. There was no way she’d ever be able to take this away from him. She would do better to just pluck his heart from his chest and have done with it.

Cyn understood. She missed Living Art like she’d miss an arm or leg. Her fingers were itching to get back to work, to make the art that she loved. He’d bought her some sketchpads and some pencils, but it just wasn’t the same. When they weren’t hunting for Ryan or sleeping, she was drawing new flash for the display cases. She had one in particular that she thought she might want to ink on Julian, but she’d have to run it by him first. He was the only man she’d ever been with whose skin was ink free, and she longed to change that.

“You’re going to be a good girl today, right, and let Daddy work?” She glared at him, but all he did was chuckle. “You’ll sit quietly and eat your cookie and drink your juice?”

“Only if the juice has vodka in it,” Cyn muttered. She held up her sketchbook. “Do I get to color too?”

“Only if you’re coming up with a tattoo for me.” He shot her a cheesy grin. “Remember, it has to say ‘Property of Cyn’ in big, bold letters.”




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