When Bones ambled into the next flattened spot of grass, Mason didn’t see grizzly fur. Emma stood over them, holding a drool covered black notebook in her hand.

Oh, no. Even with his insistence on bringing along the notebook, he hadn’t considered the fact that to make use of it, he would have to shift back into human form. Which would leave him standing there, completely naked. Because he had left his satchel back by the cars. Like an idiot. It seemed like a supremely bad idea now, no matter what Emma would say about it.

“You gonna stay a porcupine all night, Mason?” She propped one hand on her hip.

Her skin was perfectly tanned, a rich golden color that glowed beneath the fall of her blonde hair that somehow looked no worse for wear than when they had started their journey into the woods. He might have felt better about it if she at least had a leaf or a twig or something stuck in it.

Mason looked around, his immediately searching for a place to shift back. There was a thick trunked tree not too far to his left, and he could shift there, just out of sight. He didn’t know why it was so important, but even without his clothes, he still didn’t want to shift right there in the middle of the clearing. And, it would give Bones a safe place to leave his skull. He would be unbearable if Mason lost it while he was shifted. And Bones had tried so hard to please him. Come on. Over there.

As Bones retreated to the tree, Emma huffed. “You’re not serious. This is ridiculous.”

Mason ignored her. Once they were behind the tree, he shifted back.

Bones wasn’t very happy about it, but he didn’t fight. Though he did make sure Mason knew exactly where the skull was.

“Mason, quit being a prude and just get out here.”

He really didn’t feel comfortable with this. “You sure we can’t just stay shifted?”

“You have ten seconds or I’m letting Mal eat your notebook.”

Fuck. Mason stood up tall and shook himself, trying to imagine himself fully clothed, but too aware of the breeze blowing around his midriff and between his legs. He wished he had his glasses. His vision wasn’t as awful up close, but it occurred to him that when he walked out, things weren’t going to be perfectly clear. Which might work to his benefit, because he wasn’t convinced that he was going to be able to keep his eyes off Emma. He was alert, aware, exhilarated. Alive.

And she was gorgeous.

Dear God, what if he—with Emma there and—oh, Lord. If he popped wood in front of her, he was going to be mortified.

Faking courage, he stepped out from behind the tree.

Emma hadn’t moved, one hand still on her hip, notebook dangling from her fingertips. “It’s about time.”

And that’s all she had to say. That…wasn’t horrible?

Emma gave him a once over, enjoying the view and how uncomfortable her appraisal made him. He was surprisingly hairy, which she didn’t expect. Dark hair covered his chest and stomach, coming to a point just below his belly button.

He shifted on his feet, visibly uncomfortable.

She crossed her arms and smirked. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Thanks.” Mason flattened his hands over his junk, walking towards her with an awkward gate.

Emma shook her head and held the notebook out to him. “I’m a little impressed you got your porcupine to carry this. Spirit animals tend not to like being treated as pack animals.”

Mason took the notebook. “We’ve been doing it one way or another for years. It’s been one thing we can negotiate. I will say, he didn’t begrudge me quite as much, now that he has a name.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “You named him?”

Mason shrugged. “It occurred to me after you told me to treat him as a person that maybe he deserved one. His name is Bones. I would rather call him Bo. He disagrees.”

Emma laughed. “Suddenly the little foray into the bushes makes a lot of sense.”

“It’s a porcupine thing. Apparently. They collect bones. I let him because it makes him happy. Finding that skull was like striking gold.”

Mal grumbled irritably.

She shook her head with a smile. “Wow. Mal isn’t super amused.”

“No. I didn’t realize we could communicate, or whatever that was.”

“It’s more that our spirits can communicate with each other, and we’re bystanders. I couldn’t communicate directly with you while we’re shifted, though I could probably get Mal to relay a message… or a feeling I guess. They don’t really communicate with words.”

“Interesting.” Mason flipped open the notebook and pulled the pen out of the crease. He started writing.

“What could you possibly be writing down now? It’s not like you can google this shit.” Emma reached out and pressed a finger down on the notebook so he had to stop writing.

Mason bit down on his lip in a grimace and then met her eyes.

The intensity of his gaze sent a rush of heat through her body, both unexpected and welcome. Mason was so… innocent. Awkward. Adorable? And he made her feel normal. Human. In a supernatural life.

She plucked the notebook out of Mason’s fingers, and her breath caught in her throat.

He stood, his chest rising and falling in heavy anticipation, unsure of himself.

It was just so very refreshing. Everything about this man intoxicated her, even though she knew this was a bad idea.

Emma rose on her toes and kissed him.

It started tentative, their lips both cold in the night air. Question and hesitancy kept the kiss short. She pulled away first.

He stood frozen.

Had she made a mistake?

But his eyes were on hers, green—emerald—and deep. Endless. She could see into him. The desire built.

Then his hand slid around her waist, soft as a feather until it settled in the small of her back and became solid.

Emma stepped into him, her fingers exploring his chest. She let the notebook fall to the ground as she played in the hair on his chest, soft and plush.

Mason put his other hand on her neck and pulled her in, their lips meeting in an explosion of lust.

Everything slipped away. Nothing mattered but the way his lips felt on hers.

He pulled away, just enough to wet her lips with his tongue, and she let her mouth slip open, inviting him inside. She could taste the mint on his breath, feel his heat. Emma slid her hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck and pulled him deeper into her. His tongue looped around hers, and they danced together. She sucked him in and bit his lip, dragging it between her teeth. He groaned and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her against him.

His erection pressed against her abdomen. Her body ached, needing more, needing him. She placed one foot between his, sliding behind his legs until they couldn’t be any closer together. She pulled away from their kiss and nudged his chin to the side with a trail of light kisses until she found his earlobe. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue in between nibbles. His breath caught, and he moaned in her ear. His hands slid down her back, over her butt, each movement sending ripples of pleasure cascading over her skin.

He lifted her off the ground, his hands at her waist. Her arms tightened around his neck, arching her back, her breasts standing at attention, nipples hard.

He spun them around, but they were in the middle of the clearing. There was nothing he could press her against to take her. And she wanted him to take her. Needed it. Emma moaned in frustration, but it was stifled as his mouth found hers again.

She didn’t realize they were on the ground until she felt the grass tickling her back. His hands swept around from behind her back. He ran them open palmed over her stomach, to her ribs, cupping her breasts. He kneaded them, drawing them up until they fell back under their own weight. And then his tongue traced circles around her nipple, flicking over the top and sucking it in.

Fire exploded through her.

Her hips kicked up, bucking against him. His attention was still on her nipple, and she slid her own hand down her stomach until she found the folds of her womanhood. She was slick. Ready. She shivered as her fingers slipped over her clit.

He moaned, his mouth full of breast. Releasing a ragged breath, he spread her legs with his knee.

She needed him so bad. Her fingers found him, encircling him, measuring his girth. He felt amazing. She ran her finger along his smooth tip, reveling in the satin feel of his skin.

Jesus.

The sound he made was strangled as his manhood wept under her manipulation. His shoulders tightened. He placed both hands palm down on either side of her and bowed his head, his breathing harsh.

Those emerald eyes bore into hers, claiming her in way she’d never experienced before. Her vision blurred for a moment and the only thing she could think about was feeling him inside her. She guided his tip to her waiting opening.

He studied her, as if waiting for some sign, or maybe a teacher’s note. She didn’t know. She needed him. Now.

Releasing him, she thrust her hips upward.

He raised an eyebrow and moved his hips away, a slight smile on his lips.

Those damned, fucking lips.

She needed him, and she was going to have him. She lifted her head off the ground, intent on claiming his lips in a kiss.

He pulled his head back just far enough away that she couldn’t.

What…the hell was he waiting for?

He brought his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing each other’s breath.

“I need you, Mason Covey,” she whispered against his lips.

His body shivered as if her words were a caress. Her fingers found his hips.

One breath. Two.

He thrust inside her.

Her world exploded as she felt him deep inside her.

With each thrust, Mason lay a kiss on her shoulder. Her breast. Her nipple. Her neck. Until his lips found hers again and they breathed each other in. Their kisses grew distracted, lips brushing and bumping together with each short breath. They came faster, more urgent and the fire in Emma’s stomach reached inferno. Her fingers gripped the grass, pulling the arch of her back tighter. Her breath caught, oxygen cutting out as she teetered on the edge of climax.

When she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, she cried out, and then she came, a rush of ecstasy flashing through her body in a wave of fire. He cried out and shuddered, and then his arms collapsed.

His weight settled on top of her. She held him close, cradled in her arms. She wrapped her legs around him, just holding him, her passion spent, feeling complete.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, his haggard breathing a pleasured hum in her ear, their chests rising and falling together as he held himself off her just enough to keep from crushing her.

They stayed like that for a while, letting the energy from their climax evaporate.

She rolled her head to the side and nipped him on the ear before letting her arms fall out to the side with a huge grin on her face.

He groaned and fell to the ground splayed out in the grass beside her.

They lay there for a long while, no words, only breathing.

Eventually, his hand found hers. He wound his fingers into hers and lifted it to his lips.

Goosebumps trickled along her arms. She closed her eyes. She could still feel him on top of her, inside her. And she didn’t want this moment to go away.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. Her hand was still in his, laying between them in the grass.

“Me either.” She really hadn’t intended for this to happen. Today was supposed to be just another lesson. Another day to get to know him. But he was so… Mason. She didn’t realize how much she needed whatever he offered. She smiled. “If you are shy about shifting in front of me now, I’m gonna to kick your ass.”

He laughed and rolled onto his side so he could look at her. “I think we passed that barrier. Though I should probably write it down, just in case.”

She shook her head, winding her fingers into the grass. Then she grabbed a fist full and tossed it towards him. It hit him in the face.

He sputtered, spitting the bits out of his mouth that had landed on his parted lips. “Oh, come on. That wasn’t fair.” He tossed a piece of grass back at her.

Mal stirred, and when Emma laughed, it came out as a half growl.

Mason held up a hand in surrender. “Down boy.”

“I wouldn’t tell Mal to go down. Just an FYI.”

Mason saw the shift in her eyes, telling him that Mal wasn’t far from the surface. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Emma rolled back to face him. “You know, I’ve never known a phone booth shifter before.”

“A what?”

“You know in superhero movies, when the hero works a normal job and wears his uniform under his clothes just in case? And then when there is trouble, they tuck into a phone booth or a closet or a dark alley and when they come back out, they’re the hero.”

He shook his head, his lips moving in what might have been, “Oh my god.”

“You go into the trees a man and come out a porcupine. Same thing.”

“I don’t know if I would go that far. I’m definitely not superhero material, even if I do have the looks.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, but reached a hand up to run along Mason’s chin. “If you say so.” Then she booped him on the nose. “Quill boy.”

“You’re asking for trouble, kitchen wench.” Then he was on top of her, pressing her into the grass, one hand holding her arms above her head.

Emma quirked her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Really? Again?”

He gave her a smug look. “It’s the one skill I have.” His other hand found the warmth between her legs.

It was a long while before they were ready to leave.