Alyssa blinked, her mind too dull and her emotions too wrung out to fully process what he’d just said. Still, she gave it her best, echoing what she thought she’d heard.
“Bear-shifters are a Detroit gang?”
“The Griz, I believe.” He rolled his eyes. “Really obvious name, but no one asked me.”
She wasn’t very familiar with Detroit gangs, but the Griz were near enough to her neighborhood that she was aware of them. They did the usual: drugs, guns, booze, and really loud music. They certainly weren’t the worst gang in Detroit. The idea that bear-shifters could be living that close to her was enough to make her world tilt. Again. And in a day filled with new information and horrible surprises, she really couldn’t handle any more.
“Steady there.” Simon’s words were barely audible over the rushing in her ears. What penetrated her foggy brain was the sturdy grip of his hand on her elbow and the way he wrapped a strong arm around her waist.
She sank into him, letting her body sag while she breathed deep of his woodsy scent mixed with Irish Spring. Would that smell always make her knees weak and her head spin?
“Have you had anything to eat today besides beer and brownies?”
Honestly, she couldn’t remember.
“Never mind,” he said, his voice gruff. “I remember that you had a diet cola and a piece of my pizza ten hours ago.”
And a granola bar she’d picked up at a gas station.
“That granola doesn’t count,” he said, somehow reading her mind. “It smelled like petrified gravel. Couldn’t have tasted much better.”
It hadn’t.
“So where’s your bedroom?” He was walking her back toward the laundromat.
“Inside.” Apparently forming that answer took all the strength left in her body. While she was busy telling herself to stand up and walk on her own, damn it, the world decided to veer into more dizzying circles. Oh hell. She was going down.
Except she wasn’t. When her legs gave in, he swung her up in his arms. She tried to resist. She tightened her hands and managed to keep her head from flopping backward. But her vision was crazy fuzzed out and her head felt three times too large. All she ended up doing was dropping herself onto his shoulder while he balanced her in his arms.
“I got you. Go ahead. Close your eyes. You’ve had a full few days so it’s okay to check out for a bit.”
Like her body was giving her any choice? She closed her eyes and let his scent fill her thoughts completely. Kind of like dropping back into her fantasies when she’d kept a bar of Irish Spring in her bedside table just to help her remember. Meanwhile, she noticed that he wasn’t even winded as he took steady steps back toward the apartment. She wasn’t a lightweight by any stretch of the imagination, and oh wow, it was awesome to be cradled in his arms as if she were the tiniest Barbie doll.
And yeah, fantasy land. She felt her core go molten at the feel of living out one of her dreams, and she might have nuzzled a little against his neck.
He stepped into the laundromat, barely even jostling her as he managed both her and the door. Then she heard Malik gasp in surprise.
“She’s fine,” Simon said, stopping anything Malik might have asked. “But she needs to sleep for a while. Where’s her bedroom?”
“Um, it’s across the hall. This way.”
They’d need her key. It was in her jeans pocket, but no way was she going to wiggle around to get it. She was far too content riding in Simon’s arms to change anything. Except that eventually they made it to her apartment door. Simon seemed to tuck his head down against hers. She heard him make a strange sound. Like a chuff of some sort. And then she sighed.
“You need my key to get in,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“Set me down.”
“Can you stand on your own?”
No. Yes. Maybe. She groaned. He was crouching down, gently setting her feet on the floor. “I am not a woman who faints,” she said to no one in particular. She kept an arm wrapped around Simon’s broad shoulders as she dug into her jeans pocket with the other.
“No,” Simon answered. “You’re a woman who drives without sleep up to the UP and back to save her brother. But even Wonder Woman has limits.”
It took concentration to bring her key out of her pocket. Even more to shove it toward the lock. She didn’t get close. Malik took it from her and managed to get the door open. Then when she took an unsteady step inside, the world abruptly upended again.
Simon swept her back into his arms and was walking in his steady, measured pace through her apartment.
“Where—” he began, but apparently Malik was leading.
A moment later, Simon had crossed through her apartment and into her bedroom. She flushed when she realized she hadn’t made her bed and that there was dirty laundry—specifically dirty underwear—in full view beside her dresser. Her brother had called in a panic, and she’d rushed out without taking the time for her morning rituals. Ones that included making her bed and drinking a thick mug of coffee.
But if Simon saw her red lace thong next to the matching push-up bra, he made no comment. Instead, he lay her on her bed. She had to let go of his shoulders. She had to stop drawing his scent deep into her lungs. She had to do a ton of things that she didn’t want to do, like face the fact that she’d just let a virtual stranger carry her through her place of business and into her apartment. And now he was stripping off her boots.
“Head for the button of my jeans,” she rumbled, “and I’ll hurt you.”
“Sure, you will,” Simon said, sarcasm in his tone. Then he turned to Malik. “I’ve got her. You can go back to work.”
“Yeah. Um, boss?”
“I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Go on.”
“Okay. Um, just call if you need something.”
“I will.”
Her left boot hit the floor, and then he started working on the right. She was lying bonelessly on the bed as she stared at the ceiling. She ought to feel mortified. She did feel mortified. But mostly she felt overwhelmed.
“I need to face my problems,” she said. It was part of her morning litany and included things like take concrete steps toward her goals and allow no one to distract her from her purpose. “I need—”
“To give yourself a break.” He dropped her other boot on the floor, then went for the button of her jeans. She gasped and put her hand on his forearm, but she didn’t stop him. “You’ll be more comfortable with these off,” he said.
Of course she would. She’d be more comfortable naked with him inside her, too. But that wasn’t exactly on the agenda. “I got it,” she said, hoping it was true. She felt like even that small effort took a thousand times more energy than it should. “And no man goes there without my asking.”
He chuckled. “You forget that I’m a shifter. I can smell things, Alyssa.” He leaned down close to her neck and he rubbed his nose across her skin. And oh my God, did that feel good. “I know you’re aroused. So am I.”
Her breath caught and she froze. Was he about to seduce her? Now? She was equal parts appalled and excited.
“But neither of us is in any condition to act on this.” He pressed his lips to her skin and she felt the stroke of his tongue. “Only an animal would take you now when you are too tired to resist.”
He was half animal though. And he wasn’t moving away from her neck. The edge of his teeth scraped along the underside of her jaw. She shivered and her nipples tightened to unbearable points. And oh did she want to give in. She had the excuse ready-made. She wasn’t in her right mind. She’d had a beer on an empty stomach. She could justify anything if only he pressed her a little further. If his lips went from her neck to her cleavage and to her aching, hungry breasts. Or perhaps to the open wet place between her thighs.
If only.
He drew back. “I’m going to sleep on your couch. If you need anything, just call me.”
She needed him to force her to do something that made no sense. She needed him to take what she was willing to give, but couldn’t admit to. She needed him to take the lead because she was too embarrassed and horny and overwhelmed to do it herself.
As if reading her mind, he stroked a finger across her lips. Heat trailed and her mouth opened.
“Except that, Alyssa. Anything but that.”
Then he stepped back and away. He was gone, presumably to settle down on her couch like a freaking priest or something. She was just deciding if she was pissed or grateful when he abruptly came back in. She was startled enough that she lifted her head as he held up her gun before setting it on her bedside table.
“This is for you,” he said. “In case I don’t wake up right.”
Well that was scary sounding. She forced herself to push up on her elbows. “You mean, in case you wake up as a bear. In my living room.”
“Yes.” No hesitation, just a flat acknowledgment. “And if that happens, shoot to kill. I’ll be too far gone to save.”
Her mind stuttered to a halt. “I’m not going to shoot you!” Again.
“You won’t be shooting me. You’ll be shooting a feral grizzly.”
“But—”
He held up his hand. “Shoot to kill, Alyssa. I’m not kidding.”
He wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes. And wasn’t that a total buzzkill.
“Promise me.”
She shook her head.
“Promise or I won’t stick around. I won’t be here to help out tomorrow with Vic. Or go see the Griz. Promise or I’ll start walking back to the UP right now.”
“You won’t get two blocks without being jumped.”
He arched a brow. “Then my problem is solved.”
He couldn’t possibly be that suicidal. Didn’t animals have a self-preservation thing? But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t talking to his animal side right then. He was all thinking human and his mind was made up. If she didn’t promise to shoot him, then he’d leave just to ensure her safety.
She groaned. “You’re a bigger pain in the ass than my brother. And that’s saying something.”
He grunted in a kind of acknowledgment. And when she didn’t say anything more, he repeated his demand.
“Promise or—”
“I promise. I’ll shoot your furry ass if you dare go grizzly in my apartment. Do you know how long it took me to decorate this place?” She added a glare of fury just for good measure.
“It’s beautifully decorated,” he said. “Every pink ruffle and bow is sacred. I’d kill myself if I ever hurt a single one.”
He was teasing her. Her apartment was not decorated in pink bows or ruffles. Though there might be a rose undertone to the paint and a few white accents in the furniture. But there weren’t any bows and he damn well knew it.
She collapsed backward on her pillow. “My place bought with my money where I live alone. Be grateful you’re not sleeping on pink unicorn pillows with sparkly bling accents.”
He didn’t answer. In fact, he was silent so long that she lifted her head to look. He was right where he’d been a moment before, standing near her doorway, but this time with a soft smile on his face.
“What?” she demanded.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Alyssa. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning. I promise.”
No mockery in his words. In fact, the genuine warmth had her tearing up again. When had she ever had someone help her in this nightmare of a life? Someone who wasn’t her employee or her flaky-as-shit brother?
“Go to sleep, Simon,” she said. She didn’t trust her voice to say anything else. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to burst into tears again.
“Good night, Alyssa.” He backed out of her room, shutting the bedroom door firmly behind him. Then she heard him in her living room, presumably settling in on her couch. And she heard a grumble. A very loud one that included a snort.
She was pushing out of bed when she heard him speak, his voice carrying into her bedroom.
“Just make sure I’m really furry when you shoot me and it’s not this synthetic disaster of a blanket!”
She had to think a moment, then she stifled her laugh. Her only blanket had been a gift from her brother before he’d gone on his first deployment. It was a fake fur monstrosity that collected static like a miswired charger and using it felt like being buried under a thick carpet. But it was warm, and her brother had given it to her, so it was the blanket that sat on the couch for every winter in Michigan.
And now it would be wrapped around Simon.
“Don’t worry,” she called back. “Your real fur is way thinner and patchy, too. I’ll be able to tell the difference.” Then she laughed, loud and long at his outraged grunt of a response.