Chapter 4 - Bear Down

The woman (switch) froze. Held out her hand. He grabbed it up before the chance passed, wondering who was being swept away and who was the lifeline.

But all Flint could do was stare. Straight, blonde hair, a heart-shaped face, with the widest, clearest cornflower blue eyes he’d ever seen. Petite, slim-hipped, with slender, soft fingers he knew he was holding too tightly, but that was only because Flint’s heart had sped up when he touched her, and now he was afraid it might stop if she pulled away. No big deal. Shit.

Their eyes locked. His face felt hot and he didn’t like it. Where had Pumpkin come from? If this switch was anything like Cora he might be about to be lit up, depending on if she knew her magic or not. She was switched on, that was for sure, because switches did not glow until they’d encountered at least one vampire.

Something in her face told him this was her first vampire chase. She looked terrified of her own actions. He’d seen that look before, on Cora. Shit, and here came his part. Soothe her, contain her, help her, guide her, point her to the vampire, hold him for her, keep him from phazing, keep her safe while she took him out.

Had he pissed her off with the endearment? She was still frozen, staring at him, had not pulled her hand back from his. Her lips were parted slightly as she stared at him.

His eyes dropped to her feet as if drawn there. Light blue socks. With pumpkins on them. And cartoon mice. He must have seen them as he approached her and thought pumpkin, and out it slipped. Oh Bear, he was an idiot. He was going to lose her before he even had a chance to tell her what she was.

But she still didn’t run. She just stared at him with quiet dismay on her face.

Flint threw another look over her shoulder at the limo pulling away on the dark street. They could still catch it, but it probably wasn’t smart. She did not look like she was happy about standing in the middle of the road with him, so chasing vampires with him was probably out of the question right at that moment.

The curve of her waist, the slender strength of her legs, the oceans-deep blue of her bright, open-book eyes all called to him. He was suddenly, painfully aware that her gaze had sharpened and was locked hungrily on his lips, while she licked hers deliberately, her intent perfectly clear. She wanted to taste him. She might even have liked being called Pumpkin. Oh Bear.

He swallowed. Her lips looked sweet like honey and she would taste so good. His hand twitched, applying the slightest pressure to her wrist, pulling her to him. What she wanted was seeming like a really good idea all of a sudden.

The street was empty. The limo gone, a bus blocks away, the tick tick tick of the crossing sign counting down seconds the only noise he could hear over the pounding of his own blood in his ears. The switch whose name he didn’t even know drifted straight into his arms, her eyes never straying from his mouth.

Her response threw Flint off balance. His head told him this was normal switch/shifter behavior, normal man/woman behavior, normal for someone, dammit, and perfectly fucking right and he could kiss her. She hadn’t spoken a word to him. But she was about to jump him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it but at the same time he felt pretty fucking good about it. Use me, pumpkin. I want to be used. Rough and ready for you.

Her scent reached inside his brain and twisted the images there, until all he could see was her perfect little pocket-rocket body on top of his, holding her up while she climbed him and used his ‘equipment’ like a jungle gym. The fingers of one of her hands pulled free and went to his shirt, twisting at it, wringing it with an urgency that was reflected in her eyes. A perfect storm of passion, it seemed to him, and he couldn’t breathe again just standing on the street, in the evening air, surrounded by quiet town and empty sidewalks.

She leaned in. Kissed him. His cock hardened to granite in his pants in a second flat. He kissed her back and his emotions toppled, senses gone, desire the only thing left to him. He pulled her in closer, right there in the middle of the street, crushing her to him.

She climbed him, her legs wrapping around him, pressing up against him. He moved his fingers to cradle her ass, holding her up so she could kiss him and kiss him and wiggle her heat against him. It felt so good, so perfect.

His cock gave a throb she must have felt, the way she gasped into his mouth. Flint tilted his head and slipped his tongue farther inside, groaning when she sucked it deeper and spread her thighs further, getting closer to him. Her breasts brushed his chest, her pebbled nipples rubbing against him through too many layers of clothing.

A cough from nearby brought Flint screeching back to reality even as the buzz continued to circulate through his body. They were on a city street, and she was… they were... Flint wrestled his greedy lust down and put his hands over the smaller ones that roamed his shoulders, feeling his muscles, as she practically purred at him. Shit.

The switch pushed back as she came to her senses only a second or two after him. She dropped her gaze from his, eyes narrowed, then softening. The anger and lust leaked out of her face, from the set of her back. She dropped the nail file and stared at him, touching her lip softly, her expression mostly full of hot, horrified shame.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said softly, and turned to run, but the opposite way than she’d wanted to run just a moment ago. She spoke to the ground as she moved. “I don’t know why… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He stopped her with a hand, wanting to treat her like the switch she was but also like the normal woman she was. “You okay? Better now?” Shit. What would she think of that? How had Jameson managed to help Cora when she was reeling in the aftermath of vampire-hate?

The blush was back on the newly-discovered switch’s cheeks, deeper than before. She stammered, “Please, I have to go, I have to get back to… go back home.”

Flint was charmed by her, and so worried he wasn’t going to pull this off. That she would disappear into the night.

Her eyes were bouncing around as if she was about to dart away.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault. It was...” How to explain it? They needed a script. A card to hand out.

You are a switch, a savage witch who fights vampires, which makes you prone to violent outbursts. And sexual ones. But that’s okay, because I am ready for both. Yeah, that would go over well.

He changed tactics. “Do you need an ambulance?”

She stared at him while she touched her neck and chest and face. “I’m okay. Just a little sore. No ambulance.” Her eyes were on his scar, the nasty one running down his neck, from under one ear towards the center of his throat.

Her expression went a little dreamy and she smiled softly as she studied the scar, giving him pause. He’d never seen that reaction in a woman before.

What did she know about who she was? What didn’t she know? He decided to ask, waving a car that had stopped behind them through the intersection. Go around, quit honking, we know what we’re doing here. “What happened?” he asked. “Who were you chasing?” He kept the second part of that question, “Do you even know?” to himself.

She didn’t answer, only stared. Now he was getting worried. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance? You know who and where you are, right? What year it is? Your name?”

At that the switch straightened and stuck her hand out, as if they were meeting in a coffee shop. “Goldie Peletier. I am so very pleased to meet you.”

Flint took her hand again, warmth traveling up his arm. Goldie. He loved it. He cleared his throat and tried to smile as he spoke. “Flint Gibson.” Shifter. Covenbound to the same coven you are. Vampires. All that stuff. Shit, how to even start to tell her?

She frowned and began to back up. “I really have to go. I missed the bus. Sorry about… you know. Um. Sorry.”

“Wait!” he called. “Wait.” How to play it? Concerned. “I’m really worried about you. Can I at least give you a ride? There won’t be another bus along for an hour.”

The switch stared at him in the street. If she didn’t say yes, he was going to have to think of a plan B that did not include her calling the cops on him as a stalker, especially after all that kissing-her-back stuff he just did.

She stared. He stayed silent.

Wow, so awkward.

But worth it if she let him drive her home.

He waited for her answer.