ALPHA’S PREY

“This place is clearly yours, but it has feminine touches, too.”

“Well, damn. You examined the data, didn’t you? Guess that’s why you have the Ph. D.” I interlace my hands behind my head. I usually get pissed off-or downright rage-filled-when people want to talk about my loss. But for some reason, this conversation comes as a relief.

Like my past is a burden I’ve been wanting to share.

And Miranda’s the perfect listener. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t ask any more questions. Just offers her silence as a spacious offering. A space I can fill if I like. Or not.

“My wife and young daughter were killed a few years back.”

I hear her shocked intake of breath, but still she refrains from speech. Just lets me talk.

“I found them down by the river. Bear attack. Or so the police said. Their bodies were ripped up by some kind of wild animal. I don’t know-it doesn’t make sense to me.”

She waits a while longer before she murmurs, “I heard about the attack. It didn’t make sense to me, either. I actually chalked it up to small town small-mindedness.”

I turn to look at her. Her words are so welcome. Like a lifeline I can hang onto. I’ve felt like a crazy man for so many months now. Everyone around me, shifters included, said it had to be a bear. Shifters figure it was someone who lost control of their animal-who lost their humanity and went nuts. Kind of like what nearly happened to me after their murder.

Humans thought the bear must be rabid. Or overly aggressive.

But this highly intelligent, well-educated ecologist beside me knew the story couldn’t be true. Just as I did.

She reaches out and touches my biceps with her fingertips. “Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you.”

“Don’t,” I cut her off. I don’t want her sympathy, even if it soothes me like a balm.

“Do… do you want me to go back to my room to sleep?” It’s a sweet offer and one that comes as a relief. I wouldn’t have asked her to leave, but I was suddenly feeling like it was wrong to have her in this bed.

“Yeah. Maybe that would be best.” My voice sounds more gruff than I mean it to and she winces.

Damn.

I catch her hand as she’s rolling away from me. “Miranda?”

“Yeah?” She turns, her red hair swishing over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” I let go of her hand.

She gives a surprised laugh as she gets out of the bed, then grabs one of the pillows and uses it to cover herself. “Not sure what for, but you’re welcome.”

“For this,” I wave a hand to the bed. “And for”-I scrub my hand over my face again-“for listening.”

Her brows arch in surprise. “Yeah. You’re welcome. Thank you for, um, the research data.”

I can’t help the grin that forms at the corners of my mouth. And suddenly the desire to give her a few more data points surfaces.

Good thing she’s already at the door.

“Good night, Caleb.”

Wow. That sounds so familiar. So intimate.

“Good night, Doctor.”

CalebConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

I HARDLY SLEEP AT ALL, which is unheard of for me, especially in winter. It’s like my bear thinks it’s summer or something. He’s happy.

I mean really happy. Who knew all he needed was to bang a pretty scientist?

Even my guilt can’t take away his joy.

Fuck, I’m downright chipper as I slip out of bed at the crack of dawn and start the coffee machine. A half hour later I’ve prepped everything necessary to make salmon, spinach and cream cheese omelets and I have potatoes and onions sautéing on the stove.

“Oh my God, it smells amazing in here.”

I turn to watch Miranda’s entrance. She comes out in her tank top and my sweat pants, dog trotting at her feet. She’s adorably disheveled, her thick hair a mess from the hard fucking I gave her last night, her green eyes bright against cheeks flushed with sleep. It surprises me that the words that rise to my lips are You look beautiful.

Not appropriate by any means. I mean, not inappropriate either, but we aren’t dating. We had sex as a proof of possibilities, nothing more. I can’t go acting like she’s my girlfriend suddenly.

That doesn’t stop my cock from thickening at the way her braless breasts shift under her tank top. I’m suddenly imagining shoving that tank top up and pouring honey all over her tits, just so I can thoroughly lick it off.

She must catch my vibe, because her nipples harden and her breath catches. I catch the musk of her arousal, even across the scent of the food.

“I slept like a rock,” she says with an embarrassed laugh.

“Good sex will do that to you.”

“Yeah.” Another chuckle. She pushes her hair out of her face. “You don’t have to convince me anymore. I’m a convert. You don’t possibly rent out your services or anything, do you?” She face flushes a deeper pink, like she can’t believe she suggested it.

And now I’m harder than marble. “Well, I’m happy to provide you with another, you know, data set or two. I mean, for your research.” My voice comes out rougher than normal.

Her nipples protrude even more.

Her lids droop. She takes two steps closer, her hands sliding up her ribs to cup her breasts.

Fuck. Me.

I’m on her in a flash. I probably moved shifter fast without meaning to. I grab her arms and spin her around until her back hits my fridge. It rattles from the impact. My lips descend onto hers, capturing her full mouth, hell, declaring fucking war on it. I press my hard body right up against her soft, forgiving one, grind my erection into her belly.