What a Bear Needs (The Wild Side) (7 page)

“Right,” she stated slowly. “This alternate universe that you live in, is there crack?”

“No but there are masturbatory visions of you and that’s really all I need.”

God he was insane.

“Maddox. Go away.”

“You’ve been telling me to do that since this morning but you haven’t give me an incentive to follow through.”

“If you leave now, I
won’t
be tempted to leave you naked and crying on your brother’s steps.”

His eyes twinkled in the dimming light of the sun. “You want to see me naked. Admit it, you’re obsessed with all my glory.”

She sighed. “Can you just…annoy other people?”

Maddox’s head cocked. “You really want me to go?”

“I
really
want you to go.”
Before I do something stupid like ask you to stay for dinner.

“Fine,” he replied, straightening his shirt. “I have other things to do; important things.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes.” His expression turned haughty. “Things that don’t involve moody little shifters.”

He started to walk away.

Cree breathed a sigh of relief and started up her porch steps brut froze when he said, “Oh and Cree?”

Shoulders tense, she waited. 

“Moody or not, you’re still the center of my masturbatory visions.”

She would not laugh. She would
not
laugh.
Goddammit!
The hand she slapped over her mouth did her no good and from the way Maddox ambled off whistling, she knew he’d heard her.

Five

 “So
this
is what you do every morning,” Maddox murmured staring down at Cree. “Can’t claim that I’m particularly opposed but it is a bit,”—he grimaced—“gruesome to say the least.”

Rather than leap up like he expected, his delicate little flower rolled over to her side on the ground, mouth parting on a sleep growl that was both disturbing and
cute. Disturbing particularly because she was resting a few feet away from a deer that Maddox silently hoped had a will for its young; as it was now missing its head and back left leg. When he found himself at her front door just before the sun rose, he hadn’t counted on the wood hanging off its hinges and her scent being sharp enough that he had no choice but to follow it. His bear had led him at least a mile away from the lodge and in no time, he’d stumbled across a peacefully sleeping, incredibly naked, blood covered Cree. In all honesty, the sleeping and naked parts made him quite happy. They also made his cock hard enough to drill for oil but the blood…

Maddox squatted. “Cree?”

Her hands and feet twitched and he laughed softly. Reaching out, he brushed her hair back from her face. “Cree?”

One hand shot up and grasped his in a hold that was surprisingly strong before her eyes opened wide. He held his breath as irises the color of fire took him in with one fell swoop before bleeding into a fathomless black then finally fading into the topaz shade he’d come to know so well. Her lashes fanned a few times as a line formed between her brows. “Maddox?”

He exhaled.
Jesus.

She looked down at his hand. “What are you…?” Her words trailed off as she took in the fact that they were outside. Her stare landed on the mangled deer, bounced to her bare form and then jerked up to what he knew
was an extremely confused expression.
“Fu-huck
,” she whispered.

That about summed it up for him too. Cree finally let him go and jumped up. “Shit, shit, shit…Oh my God…what did I…shit, shit, shit…Oh my God…”

Maddox sat back on the ground, forearms resting on his knees as he watched her. Even while looking distinctly like a murder suspect—which if they were being honest, her victim was
slain horribly—she was beautiful. Hands in her hair, back to him, she stood facing the sun and he could see every curve of her, worthy to be exalted, physique outlined in the rays, her skin glowing faintly. Her shoulders were small but strong, leading to a smooth, well defined back, hips that curved delicately and legs that stretched on silkily.

The halves of her buttocks were so perfectly formed that for a moment he considered forgetting all about the horror crime scene he’d found her in and the demonic gaze. Maddox simply wanted to crawl towards her on all fours, panting and begging for a chance to skirt the golden flesh with his teeth before…

She abruptly turned around, selfishly depriving him of his view!

“Maddox?”

The way she said his name, the plea in her voice, had his scrotum drawing up. He put his stare on her face and not her nipples. Although he
really
wanted to stare at her nipples. “Yes?”

Cree folded her arms across her chest, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she shifted from one foot to the other. Her face told him how lost she was. “I need a favor.”

His head tilted. “From…?”

She blew out a hard breath. “You
.”

He blinked. “You want a favor from
me?”

“Yes.
You.”

He went back on his elbows. “And this favor would be…?”

“Your shirt.”

Maddox quirked a brow. “My shirt?”

“Yes. You’re shirt.”

“Because you’re naked,” he stated, running his eyes down the curves of her frame again. Bloody or not, he really wanted to find a soft patch of dirt and see if he could knock down the walls of her pu—

“Yes
,”
Cree snapped. “Because I’m naked!”

“Heh.” Maddox lay all the way back on the ground, folding his arms beneath his head as he gazed up at the sky. He’d spent the night before replaying the sound of Cree’s laughter in his head over and over again before he’d finally fallen asleep just to jerk upwards hours later with his cock tenting the sheets and his skin hot. Like a demon she haunted him; her ever changing smell, her impish grin and her husky voice. He didn’t pretend to know what it was that he’d encountered this morning and truthfully, he wasn’t sure he was completely ready to understand it, but the fact that she needed him for something—
anything—
stroked over the basic male side of him.

He suddenly had almost six feet of glaring female blocking out his view of the clouds. “Well?”

Maddox’s mouth twisted. “Well what?”

Cree momentarily tucked in her lips. “Are you going to give me your shirt?”

“Perhaps if you asked a bit nicer…”

“Can I have your shirt before I give into the overwhelming urge to beat you with the carcass a few feet away?”

“That wasn’t very nice,” he tsked, wagging his finger in admonishment.

She stepped back, tugged at her locks and sighed, “Maddox…
please.”

Chuckling, he sat up. “On one condition.”

He watched as she stiffened. “What?”

Holding her stare, Maddox quietly answered, “Let me spend a day with you.”

Cree’s eyes narrowed. “You want to spend a day with me?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “
You.
Cree Chayton. Five-foot-eleven. Approximately 160 pounds of sin and decadence. The owner of amazing hair, a wonderful smile, sick sense of humor and tits that could bring down a fighter jet.”

She rubbed her temples. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to spend a day with me?” Poor thing looked genuinely confused; as if it were beyond her comprehension. She had no idea did she? She really
didn’t know.

Rolling his shoulders, he retorted, “For all the reasons I just named
and
because I want to see if my theory is correct.”

“And that would be…?”

Maddox gave her his widest grin. “Whether or not my cock seeks you out like a drug dog hunting illegal contraband.”

Her lips parted and he could see a response forming on her mouth but she shook her head and only questioned, “You’re not even going to ask about”—she waved a hand at the deer—“that?”

He shrugged. “You planning on repeating those heinous offenses against nature on yours truly?”

Her face reddened. “No.”

“Well then I find myself uninterested in such things.” At least for now. Oh, he had many
questions about this but at the moment, intuition told him that even uttering
one
would have her sprinting off and once again avoiding him. Couldn’t have that now could he? He’d play naïve, give her the innocent stare and when she was nice and placid, jump on her like a cougar with an unaware runner.

Surprise briefly crossed her features. “Fine.”
 

With a smile, he stood and gripped the bottom of his tee. “Swear on your favorite pair of hiking boots.”

A muscle leaped in her jaw.

“Cree…”

“I fucking swear on my favorite fucking pair of fucking hiking boots,” she ground out.

So. Goddamn. Adorable. Maddox lifted his shirt and shrugged out of the soft cotton, not caring that she’d ruin it. When he looked up Cree was staring, mouth slightly ajar.

Feeling self-conscience he frowned. “What?”

She jumped. “Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“So...?”

“So, why were you staring?” He covered his chest.

“Uh…”

Maddox started to panic a bit. “You can see it can’t you?” he accused.

It was Cree’s turn to frown. “See
what
?”

Pausing, he realized she had no idea what he was talking about. “Nothing,” he muttered handing the shirt off to her.

Her eyes roamed his face in clear suspicion as she took it. “Why are you twitching?”

“Twitching? Who’s twitching? I’m not twitching,” Maddox adamantly denied.

“You are,” she argued. “You’re twitching right now.”

He cleared his throat, took a step back. “No, I’m not.”

Head cocking, she took a step forward. “You
are.”

Maddox stuffed his hands down into the pockets of his jeans and tried to stay still under her silent observation. She wouldn’t spot it. She couldn’t
.
It was a birthmark, it had
always
looked like a birthmark despite its original origin and before she even figured it out—

“Oooh,” Cree suddenly said. “You were afraid I’d see
that.”
She pointed to a spot on his abdomen.

He looked down at said spot and sure enough, it was his birthmark. The birthmark that used to be something else. Scoffing, he went, “Wh-why would I be concerned about that? It’s—”

“Where your third nipple used to be before you were finally able to get it removed, leaving behind a pear shaped scar?” she asked innocently.

Maddox stared at her and she stared back. “I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Ransom.” Petty as it may have been, the small defect had been the bane of his existence as a cub and taking off his shirt in public for any reason led to torment, jokes, and nicknames that he dare not repeat for fear of a rage blackout. He’d sworn his brother to secrecy after getting it removed because honestly, it still made him very aware that he hadn’t always been so confident. 

She snorted as she finally slid the t-shirt on, effectively blocking his view from the most incredible parts of her. “Why?”

“Because that hairy, motherfu—”

“Maddox,” she interrupted, stopping his tirade. “Consider yourself lucky that the only extra thing you got at birth was a nipple.”

There was something in her eyes that unsettled him; a sadness that had replaced the wry amusement he’d seen there. He knew it had something to do with the poor woodland creature she’d sent to an early grave. He wanted that amusement back. He wanted to hear her laugh. Maddox preferred
anything
over this. Therefore, the next thing he said was totally justifiable.

“I sometimes miss the added sensation.”

Cree looked up and then down again. “Wait…what?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I miss the way it used to feel under a t-shirt straight from the dryer.”

“Sir…”

“You haven’t known pleasure until you’ve tried a three prong clamp.”

“
Annnd
we’re done here,” she retorted, turning on the heels of her bare feet. But it wasn’t before he saw her slight smile.

Maddox breathed a sigh of relief that shuddered out as he cast a quick glance towards Cree’s breakfast. “Yeah…no…sometimes it’s just best to not ask any questions.”

With a deep inhale he followed after the mysterious shifter who expanded his interest in her at every turn.

***

She couldn’t remember leaving her cabin. Cree’s steps were slow and heavy, the sensation of dried blood caked against her skin beneath Maddox’s t-shirt felt with every brush of the fabric. Fragmented pieces of her hitting the ground running bombarded her each time she closed her eyes but the pull to get up—to physically walk out of her door—evaded her. How long she’d been gone and how many other things she’d killed in that span of time she didn’t know. But she was well aware that she couldn’t be held completely accountable. She was well aware that any acts committed on her part were forced through the strength of something that was far beyond her command.

Years ago she’d read a case study on sleepwalkers and individuals who had fragmented memory loss. Cree could remember some of the narratives that described the utter terror they felt waking up in a place that wasn’t home, wasn’t even remotely familiar and having to piece together only what their thoughts. She didn’t know what was more horrifying, the fact that she’d blacked out after going to bed or the fact that she’d woken to a face that she knew all too well; which meant that she hadn’t gotten far away from the lodge.

Someone could’ve been hurt. Someone could’ve been hurt because of
her.
What was worse was that she didn’t even know
which
form she’d been in. Obviously whatever it was had been was strong enough to take down a buck, leaving it headless. Unless she’d healed in her sleep, Cree had to guess that said beast also had the power to avoid getting gouged by the animal’s antlers. She almost felt remorseful. Hunting was a regular part of her life, had always been, but what she’d done was closer to mutilation.

Maddox
had seen it. Maddox who’d been silent for the last ten minutes, simply walking beside her without a judgment or a question. Maddox who hadn’t been staring at her in complete horror when she’d opened her eyes. Maddox who’d looked adorably insecure over something so small. Maddox who’d traded his shirt—a shirt that smelled fucking
incredible–
just for the opportunity to spend a day with her.