In the end, I distracted the plain clothes officer while a slashed and bleeding Nick fetched the body bag from my trunk. By the time I’d returned to the apartment with my empty bowl of freshly popped popcorn, Nick had stashed the body and disappeared both it and the lime green bag of death.
He’d also disappeared.
I locked the sliding glass door and pulled the blinds before retreating to the living room where a mobster would have a harder time shooting me. The movie had continued merrily along, now featuring yet another lurid sex scene. And to think, I could be doing something very much like that right now if it weren’t for crime bosses and crime minions…or whatever. I growled under my breath, picking up beer bottles to deposit in the recycling.
Empty bottles. Nick had guzzled at least one recently and had gone through two more before that. He could be stopped for driving under the influence. With a body bag. That included a dead body.
“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh fuck.” I paced the kitchen, glancing out to make sure the resident cop hadn’t budged.
A dark head was barely visible in the car stationed in the spot beside mine.
I gritted my teeth at him, cursing beneath my breath in a combination of fear and frustration. If the cop had been assigned to protect me, he needed to be fired. But what if protection wasn’t the reason the city of Dallas had spared one of their most important resources to babysit me?
I was bait. That was why they’d barely blinked when I’d invited an unknown man into my apartment.
Needing something to keep me from unraveling, I stopped the DVD player and removed the disk, sticking it back in its plastic sleeve. So much for that dollar.
Next up was cleaning my almost spotless tub. I scrubbed it inside and out, and then hit the toilet with a vengeance. I’d cleaned the bathroom sink and had moved onto scrubbing the tiles when something banged on the sliding glass door, scaring me near to death.
“Shelby.” He’d been quiet, but I could clearly hear Nick through the wall and glass.
I pounced to my feet, ignoring my sweaty and bedraggled appearance. Whipping the blinds aside, I broke into a relieved smile. Nick stood looking tired, in a fresh pair of work out shorts and a plain white t-shirt.
I opened the door, swallowing a slew of jumbled questions.
He crossed inside and slid the door behind him as he gestured at my dresser. “Pack some things. You’re not staying here.”
“What?”
Lifting his eyebrows, Nick paused two seconds before folding both arms across his chest. “Because someone tried to shoot you through your bedroom door while a cop was out front.”
“Oh.”
I felt like an idiot. But I reached for a duffle bag and packed. Unsure how long I’d be gone, I included enough for four days including my toiletries. I hesitated at the bed, considering bringing my favorite blanket. No doubt Nick had blankets, and bringing my own might be an insult.
“Wait,” I said. “Shouldn’t I tell the cop out front?”
Nick’s white knit shirt bulged in a way I’d have called pleasing any other time. His steady stare had me flushing in embarrassment. What had I said?
One eyebrow lifted higher than the other on Nick’s smooth forehead. “And tell them that I just killed someone and made him disappear?”
“Oh.”
He gestured behind me. “Lock the front door and leave the light on in the living room. We’re going out the back.”
I locked the front as he’d said. At the back, I stared at the glass door, contemplating how I could lock it from the outside.
Nick waved me ahead of him. “You’re going out. I’m locking it, and then crawling out the window. I already pulled the screen down.”
And we’re doing all of this because…?
One corner of his mouth lifted. “The rookie out front needs to think you’re still inside or the crime boss will know you’ve left. We’re buying ourselves a few days of peace.”
Again I felt stupid and more than a little wigged out that he could read my face so easily. But I shuffled out onto the patio with my duffle bag and a light coat over myself. True to his word, Nick locked the door behind me and pulled the blinds. He’d hopped out the side window, closed it, and replaced the screen before I could ask if he needed help.
Seconds later we were walking to the other side of the complex where he’d parked his car.
Nick’s place was in Dallas’s West End and surrounded by far too many buildings. In a comparably squat, four-story structure, the loft apartment consisted of a quarter of the top two floors. The building’s claim to fame was being tacked onto the outside of a parking garage. Which came first was unclear.
Whatever the case, Nick parked his car on the second floor of the garage and guided me into an elevator that required a special key for his floor. We were deposited into a brick hallway with track lighting and mirrors inset in faux window sills, a swanky combination. I assumed the black door at the end of the corridor went to Nick’s place, and wasn’t disappointed.
He unlocked it and swept inside. The apartment—or perhaps condo—had an open-plan dining room, living room, and kitchen only divided by a breakfast bar and one support column. Dark wood floors offset the pale gray walls and sand-colored chenille furniture. A flat television stretched along the wall over a gas fireplace. Both were dark, though no doubt ready at the flip of a switch. The item that drew my attention most was the sinewy floor-to-ceiling sculpture in steel and wood—some sort of modern piece I didn’t understand but couldn’t take my eyes off of.
Nick pointed behind him to a door at my left, dragging my attention away. “Bathroom there.” He strode to the opposite side where a black wrought iron banister guarded the start of the stairs to the second floor. “Up here.”
I followed because he’d taken my bag with him. I studied the lovely sculpture on my way.
The thirteen plush carpeted stairs led to a second floor that was almost as big as the first. Nearly the entire floor was a bedroom. A really large bedroom featuring an equally spacious king-sized bed decked out in a white down comforter. Two narrow tables flanked the bed with lanky lamps that reminded me of paper lanterns on sticks. One had been lit, casting a soft glow across the room. In addition to the bed and tables that appeared tiny in the massive room, Nick had placed a redwood computer desk and swiveling chair between a closet door and curtained French doors. Bright light flashing through the heavy gray and white fabric hinted the view would be of the street.
Another sculpture, this one shoulder height, reminded me of a bird despite its abstract shape. The art piece’s matte white material contrasted with the brick wall, breaking up the harsh color. Still, the art did little to fill the space. He needed more furniture. Or to turn this into multiple rooms. Such a waste of space.
“Bathroom in there, too,” he said, gesturing at the door to my left again.
I craned my neck to get a look. Soft light flared from beneath the stone console at the other end and along the ceiling, illuminating pink marble floors. Featuring a stone surround tub and stone stand-up shower, the master bathroom could have also fit a twin bed. Why did a one-bedroom condo need a bathroom with two sinks upstairs anyway? That must be one of those rich-people things I didn’t understand.
Nick tossed my bag onto the bed. “Will the down be enough or do you want a blanket, too?”
I tore my gaze from the bathroom and gave him a confused look. “I’ll need a blanket for the sofa.”
“You’re not sleeping on the sofa.” He pointed at the bed. “You’ll be there. I’ll take the floor.”
Laughing nervously, I said, “You don’t have to sleep on your own floor.”
Nick grunted. “I don’t mind.”
“I do.” I braced my legs apart to show how much I minded. “It’s bad enough that you’ve been sleeping on my floor. You don’t need to come home and do the same thing.”
“It’s not a big deal. I sleep on worse a few nights a month.”
Nick wanted me to ask what he meant, but I didn’t want to know. Blissful obliviousness suited me fine. “You don’t have to tonight.”
He shook his head. “Shelby, it’s fine.”
“I’m serious. I don’t mind. I’ll sleep wherever. You can have your bed.”
“If you’ll sleep wherever,” he gave me a hard look, eyes cooling, “then you’ll sleep on my bed.”
“Fine, then we’ll both sleep there.”
Nick made a choked sound and grabbed something off the floor, balling it up. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
My eyes pinched tight. “You were ready to do a little bit more a few hours ago.”
He tossed the thing in his hand across the room, letting it land into a laundry basket I hadn’t seen. His hard look calmed to a warmer cast. I shivered as I remembered how he’d held me down and did nice things. “And if I get in that bed with you, Shelby, that’s exactly what we’d be doing.”
Trying not to visibly flush, I said, “Why is there a problem now when there wasn’t earlier? Is it because there’s no beer?”
“I haven’t even showered off tonight’s murder,” he said in a low, growling voice.
He was trying to frighten me. And though I should be scared—though he had killed someone—I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.
“It’s not murder if its self-defense,” I said.
“That’s what you’ll tell the jury if you defend yourself against one of these guys and the cops find out. But if they ask me why I did it? I can’t say the same.”
“You are as much a witness as I am.”
“The mafia doesn’t know that.”
“This argument has nothing to do with why you won’t sleep in your own bed.”
He scraped a hand through his hair, pacing to the French doors and back. “I won’t sleep in my bed, with you, unless I can fuck you.” Nick turned, fixing sharp eyes on me that glistened from the single paper lantern’s light. “And when I fuck you, I’ll fuck you so hard that a little piece of me stays inside you, reminding you of me every time you touch yourself. Every time someone else touches you. You’ll never have pleasure again without missing me, needing me. But I won’t do any of that until you know exactly what you’re getting into.”
My body tingled as if he’d grazed a fingernail across multiple points at once. I pulled in a steadying breath even as my pulse sped. “What am I getting into?”
Nick tossed up a palm almost helplessly. “Nothing. Just go to bed. I need to take a shower.” He stomped past me to the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind him.
I gaped. Had he seriously just done that?
Three days ago he’d teased me against a wall in a public bar. An few hours ago he’d practically initiated sex against a different wall. What had changed?
Whatever it was, I was having none of it.
Sneaking up on a guy in a shower ought to have been easy. But when that guy could turn into a wild animal, he apparently could hear everything. Even over a powerful spray of steaming, fragrant water. Whatever he used to wash himself smelled divine—manly and mouthwatering.
Nick faced the door the moment I entered the bathroom. The condensation on his glass surround hid little of his naked body. Tall, lean, and gorgeous absolutely everywhere, Nick’s body buoyed my determination. The respectable sized, even while flaccid, cock resting against his thigh was smooth and just beginning to stir. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it.
No doubt he could see just as much of me as I could of him. I did my best not to cover myself as I strode in naked, head held high and grabbed the latch on the shower door.
Wide-eyed and wary, Nick made room for me, hand stuck against his belly in the act of soaping. He kept his gaze fixed on my face despite all the bare flesh on display. “This isn’t a good idea, Shelby.”
“Why not?” I kept my tone steady despite wanting to touch him.
“Because I don’t want to keep my hands to myself.” Those hands remained pale and flexed against his skin.
“I’d be a little upset if you did.” I smirked. “But I can work around that in any case.” I sank to my knees and let the water soak my hair while he got accustomed to the idea of me there.
Nick shook his head, groaning. “There’s too much you don’t know.”
“So tell me.”
“It’s not the sexiest of chats. And I don’t want you on your knees for it.” But his cock had lifted from the surrounding crop of trimmed, dark hair, obviously not caring about the chat he wanted to have.
“A few minutes ago you weren’t going to tell me anything,” I said.
He let his gaze sweep down my chest, taking in everything I offered. They lingered on my nipples as he groaned. “You don’t know how much I want to tell you everything while I finger fuck you so you forget why you shouldn’t be near me.” He turned his back on me, smacking the soap onto a ledge beside him. “Shelby, for your own good, don’t tempt me. Grab my towel and wait for me out there. And put on some fucking clothes.”
Swallowing down a whimper at how he wasn’t going to do what we wanted, I said, “Are you going to tell me whatever it is that’s worrying you?”
“If you leave,” he said.
I rose and squeezed the water from my hair, sighing because once again I wasn’t getting what I needed. Opening the glass door, I took the towel he’d dropped on the floor and wrapped it around myself. A door set in the wall beside the shower likely held more towels. I opened it and pulled out a fresh one for him.
“Put on clothes,” he called as I left the bathroom.
I toweled off, and then tugged on the bare minimum—a tank top and panties. Strictly speaking they were clothes.
Lounging on the bed, I did a longer perusal of his room. With few items scattered—keys and wallet on a side table, two envelopes hidden under the monitor on the desk, and a box of tissues on the other side table—the place looked more like a staged real estate property than someplace a man lived in. From my brief walk in the downstairs area, I thought the rest of his condo suffered the same sparseness. Either Nick was fastidious or he didn’t spend much time here. Shame, considering how much the property probably cost.
The water turned off. Minutes passed without him emerging. I flopped back on the bed, contemplating fixing my top so that it rode up indecently. The door opened, and Nick appeared, rubbing his head with the towel I’d left him. He’d pulled on blue plaid boxers I hadn’t noticed in the bathroom. His clean scent made me want to lick him all over.
Freezing where he was, he frowned. His damp hair clung to the sides of his lovely face. “You’re missing at least one item of clothing.”
“That’s up for debate.”
He sighed my name but retreated to the desk a few feet away. Nick dropped onto the chair backwards as if he needed the back between us to keep from launching at me. I frowned because I couldn’t see anything except a little bit of chest and everything above his shoulders.
Nick dug a hand in his hair, making it stick up between his fingers. “I’m infected.” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “The affliction…it’s not a sexually transmitted disease, but it’s infectious. Basically.”
Pulling up onto my elbows, I gave him a look that felt equal parts twisted and confused. “Basically?”
He winced at my sharp tone. “If I cut myself and the blood gets into a cut of yours or if I bite you, you don’t immediately get infected. It’s like vampires—there’s an extra step.”
Though I’d seen vampires on the evening news, I’d never met one and hadn’t really believed they existed, despite the many documentaries and articles proclaiming them to be real. Apparently Nick believed.
“Um…I didn’t know there was an extra step for vampires,” I said.
He nodded, lips twisting in a half frown. “They have to drain their victim, and then feed them their blood.” He made a dismissive gesture. “That’s not the point. The point is that you could get this from me. I’d have to hurt you pretty badly, but it’s a possibility.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Hurt me…how?”
“I’d have to gouge or bite you pretty deep,” he said.
“Do you get that rough while having sex?” Based on his earlier statement about leaving a piece inside of me, I feared the answer might be yes. Worse, I feared I’d want it anyway.
He stretched a hand over his shoulder, scratching between his shoulder blades. “Not…really. But it’s more than that. If I get you pregnant…the kid would be infected.”
“I’d kind of figured condoms would be involved.” My voice was wry though I felt anything but. “Do condoms not work with…you?” I’d almost asked if they worked with Were in general but decided against it at the last second.
“They work,” he said. “I mean…about as well as with anyone.”
I let my fingers trail over his smooth comforter. “Have you accidentally gotten someone else pregnant? Is that why you’re so worried?”
“No.” He jerked against the chair, eyes going wide in what might have been horror.
“Have you accidentally infected someone else?”
“No.” Nick’s mouth went tight.
“Okay then,” I said, drawling the syllables. “Have you not had sex since you were…afflicted?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “I’ve had sex.”
I turned the look back on him two-fold. “With someone other than yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is this such a problem?”
“Because they didn’t know I was infected. I was careful with them.”
I sat up fully, pinning him with my darkest glare. “You’re not going to be careful with me?”
“Shelby, I’ll be careful if you want.” His fingers came down on the back of the chair, knuckles going white. “But I want to fuck you as hard as you can handle. And I want to do it again and again and again. I don’t want to fucking stop until we can’t move a single limb. That won’t even be the end of it. I’ll be inside you as much as you’ll let me.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of me. “We’ve not even had sex. How do you know you’ll want it again?”
“I know.”
His smoky answer wiped the smile off my face. “Is this because I do know you’re infected?”
“That helps,” he said. “But I wanted to fuck you when I saw you in that stupid glittery costume.” He made a derisive sound as his gaze went distant, perhaps recalling the costume. “I secretly hoped you’d find out what I was even though it’d become a problem.”
That’s right, he’d said his Alpha would have to do something about me because I knew. Nick probably secretly hoped every woman he was attracted to discovered his affliction.
I tapped my fingers against the bed. There was one more question I needed answered, but I was concerned with how to phrase it so as not to offend. Rubbing my cheek, I exhaled. “What would happen to me if for some reason you did hurt me enough for it to be the extra step?”
Nick pushed air through his nose and fixed me with stark eyes. “You’d get sick. Very sick. Your body would fight it. If it won, you’d die. If it lost, you’d become like me.”
I’d die. I’d fucking die.
I covered my mouth and tried to hide my horror. Nick rubbed his forehead and intermittently watched the floor and me. Now I understood why he’d wanted to have this chat first.
I calmed enough to ask, “What…are you?”
His gaze came up, hopeful and bright. “The generic term is Werebear. Specifically, I Transform into an Asian black bear. It’s a strain of the Were virus only found in Asia.”
“So…did one show up here and maul you or something?”
Nick shook his head. “I went to Korea between my junior and senior years of college to do an internship and meet the part of my family that still lives there. I was attacked while on a hike in the Baekdudaegan.”
I stared, stunned not because of what he’d said, but because I hadn’t the first idea what he’d studied in school or even what he did for a living. What did I really know about this man other than he was dangerous yet insisted on protecting me?
“That explains why no one else in your family is like you,” I said.
He nodded.
I bit my lip, trying to understand what he must have gone through. I couldn’t imagine it—him almost alone in an essentially foreign country and attacked in the middle of the wilderness. “Was it very bad?”
Nick watched me for several silent moments. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Nick.”
He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I lived.”
“Still…”
“I’m gonna need beer if you keep pitying me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not pity. It’s sympathy.”
“Whatever it is,” he said, grumbling.
“Do you want beer?”
“Beer will make me handsy.”
Popping to the side of the bed, I stood. “I’ll get us both a bottle.”
I didn’t see him move but he had my forearm in hand and tugged me before I’d levered up. My pelvis smacked into him, hard bone against hard muscle.
Nick’s palm fit along my stomach just above my waistband, warm and teasing. “You want me to be handsy?”
“Yes.” As breathless as a silver screen siren, I tried not to feel ridiculous. I reached for the hard muscle between us, earning myself a groan as I formed my fingers around the crown of his cock. His boxers were thin, but they could be thinner. Or better yet…
I flicked my hand beneath the elastic and took him in my palm. He was hot, pulsing with life. I wanted to feel that everywhere. But first…
“I want to get mouthy.” I sank to my knees again, letting my fingers tug the fabric down on my way.
His cock popped free, bouncing happily. I grinned up at him until I saw his expression. Fierce. Dark. Hungry.
As if he hadn’t been gorgeous enough before. “Fuck,” I whispered.
Nick slid his fingers into my hair and curled them along my scalp. “You don’t have to do this.”
I flicked out my tongue, running the tip along the purple head. “I don’t mind.”
He shivered, recovering quickly. “I didn’t mean you don’t have to give me head.” He studied my face, completely serious. “You don’t have to stay. I won’t stalk you…once the crime boss situation is resolved.”
“I owe you this, don’t I?”
Nick pulled in his eyebrows, frowning. “For what?”
“For the messes you’ve cleaned up on my behalf.” That was understating the situation, wasn’t it? But I couldn’t come out and say, Nick, thank you for killing those guys before they killed us.
He tightened his grip on my hair. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Admit it,” I flicked my tongue over his salty tip, “you did all that because you wanted my mouth around your cock.”
His expression morphed from a frown to something I didn’t recognize, something intense and almost frightening. Nick released my hair and slid his hands beneath my armpits, hauling me off my knees. He carried me the scant foot to the bed and laid me in the middle, following me down. Like earlier, Nick grabbed my wrists and held them over my head. I smothered a moan because I didn’t want him knowing how well that dominating move worked on me.
The lamp glow bathed half of his beautiful face in gold but shadowed his eyes. “I did all that because you were in danger,” he said, hovering over me like an avenging angel. “I felt somewhat responsible because if I hadn’t pissed you off, you wouldn’t have been in that police car.”
I shook my head, hair probably frizzing against the bed clothes. “I was about to leave the party anyway. I would have been in that car alone if you hadn’t pissed me off. And I’d be dead right now.”
His hand clenched on my wrists. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
I made the pointless effort of lifting my arms. They, of course, didn’t budge. Giving him a seductive smile, I said, “I really do want to suck your cock, Nick.”
“I’d rather come inside you.” Lightning quick, he rose above me, opened a hidden drawer on his side table and produced a condom. Tearing the foil at normal speed, he held my arms with one hand and worked the packet with his other.
“You don’t have to come in my mouth,” I said, grinning. “I could tease you a little and then take a break.”
“You need something in your mouth.” Nick centered the condom over the tip of his cock, rolling it over, and then he bore down on me, lips clamping over mine. His tongue pushed in, tangling silky and urgent. He tasted of mint and need, and I wanted more. Much more.
The organ resting on my belly made me wish I had use of my hands. I curled a foot behind his ass and tugged. He made a dark sound that rumbled his body in a way that was too sexy. I used my foot to caress his balls, knowing I was probably courting trouble.
Nick yanked away his mouth, shoving my tank top to my throat. His tongue came down on my nipple, flicking with a ruthless pressure. Desire throbbed at my center and drew a moan as I heated from the inside out.
“Nick,” I said once I’d realized my mouth wasn’t in use. “Your cock needs to be inside me somewhere right the fuck now.”
He made a sound halfway between a growl and a laugh over my breast, hand gripping my wrists tighter. “You sure you want to be ruined for anyone else?”
“Bring it,” I said, laughing.
Nick drew up onto one elbow, dark eyes gazing the short distance yet feeling as if they were an inch away. “You don’t believe I can do it.”
“I don’t care. I just need you to fuck me.”
“When I saw you in that costume, your ass barely covered, all I wanted was to fuck you. Then I saw you in that slim skirt at the restaurant with your friend and decided you were a good girl. But maybe you really are Tinker bell’s loose sister.”
My eyebrows furrowed while I tried to work out if he’d just insulted me again. “Are you trying to say you don’t want me to tell you what I want and what I need?”
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re a good girl with a bad mouth. Or a bad girl. Which is it, Shelby?”
Getting more frustrated by the second, I felt the beginnings of a glare pinching the spot above my nose. “Does it matter right now?”
Nick rolled back onto his shins. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but yes, it does matter right now.”
I didn’t want to admit I was a good girl because, based on everything I’d done and said tonight, I felt anything but good. I also didn’t like the implication that he’d treat me differently depending on my answer.
“Why?” I asked.
He studied my face, frowning slightly as he did. “It just does.”
I sighed and tilted my head away from him. There’d be no fucking tonight. How disappointing. I was going to get a complex. Then again, it was clear Nick had some serious problems that had nothing to do with me.
“You’re not going to answer,” he said after a moment.
I shook my head.
“Why?”
“Why should I explain when you won’t?” I’d managed not to sound as petulant as I felt.
He took a turn sighing. Gently he pried his fingers from my wrists and rolled off me. “I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.”
I needed him between my legs and inside me. But not if he was going to be weird about it. So I let him slink down the stairs, leaving me alone in his too-big bed.