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TRIXIE

T he fact that Hunter was a shapeshifter—just shifter. Whatever!—was completely secondary to the fact that he was kissing her and there was nothing keeping them apart. We’re going to see what this is was apparently animal hunger. Maybe literally animal in his case.

She didn’t even mind the beard, she was so desperate for his every touch and the crush of his mouth against hers.

He backed her up against one of the open stud interior walls and she had a moment to be pleased by its sturdiness before he was tugging up at her T-shirt.

Trixie willingly helped him pull it off.

One of the best things about fall in Alaska was that all the mosquitos were dead, and she didn’t mind exposing more skin to him.

She didn’t wait for him to unclasp her bra, reaching behind to work the hooks herself as he took his own shirt off.

His chest was everything Trixie had known it would be underneath, rippled with muscles that she scratched and caressed. Her nails were short, and he growled in pleasure as he returned the favor, playing with her uncovered breasts .

“My trailer is a little less… unfinished,” Trixie suggested. “I don’t want splinters in certain places.”

Hunter grunted an answer and lifted her up off her feet.

He might not be superhuman in strength, but he was top end human strong, and she was on the slight side herself.

She wrapped her arms around him and happily let her carry her over the ramp.

It groaned alarmingly and Trixie had a moment to wonder if they’d made a tactical error, and then they were over, and Hunter was taking her straight for the trailer.

It was unlocked, because that was how Trixie left it if she was on site, but she wasn’t going to fit through sideways in his arms. Her feet weren’t on the floor for long as they hurried up the steps and back to the bed.

The space was tight for two of them, especially for a big guy like Hunter, and Trixie hadn’t tidied up for company, but she was too busy to be embarrassed.

Trixie could not have said how her pants came off, except that she wasn’t surprised by how dexterous his hands were after watching him work with tools for two days.

They made out for some time, touching everything exposed as they removed clothing with reverence and curiosity, interspersing with kisses and nibbles.

Had she gotten a straight answer about biting or born with it ? Trixie shivered at the reminder.

He was a bear .

A shape shifter was making determined love to her with the same mouth that had said the word soulmate , and Trixie could not believe that there was no magic in the world anymore.

There were, however, things that magic might not account for. “Condom,” she said breathlessly. “Common sense. ”

Hunter didn’t protest when she rolled to fish one out of the cabinet by her bed, though he did let one of his big hands trail distractingly over her.

It took some searching, because getting laid hadn’t been high on her list of priorities for a very long time, but he was still flatteringly hard when she found it and he took it from her when she fumbled the package.

Sheathed, he tipped her back on the bed and raised one of her legs. His cock might not be monstrous , but it filled her to perfection, and from the first touch to the final thrust, she was on a roller coaster of pleasure and she didn’t want the ride to end.

He brought her close to whimpering pleasure so many times that Trixie became afraid she would never find release, varying his timing and his kisses with chivalrous attention to her reactions and finally, deliriously sent her spiraling into an orgasm that had steady aftershocks of bliss as he came in her at last.

It was romance book sex, Trixie thought. It was straight off the pages of a smutty bodice-ripper, complete with sweet aftercare while she was still incapable of speech or straight thought.

She cuddled in his arms after he’d cleaned up and come back to brush the hair from her face and lay little kisses all along her neck and shoulders.

“I have a shower,” she said at last, though she didn’t wash any part of him off her. “The water tank isn’t very big, so keep it short.”

“Is it big enough for two?” Hunter growled near her ear.

“Maybe midgets,” Trixie chuckled. “We’ll have to take turns. I’ve got an extra towel, though.”

She set the controls for him and tidied the bed while he rinsed off. There were several curses and clunks from the bathroom; the shower was probably like a sausage casing for someone of Hunter’s size.

Trixie followed with a strictly utilitarian shower of her own and was greeted by Hunter, still naked, holding her towel for her. He wrapped her up and kissed the top of her wet head.

“I still have a lot of questions you haven’t answered,” Trixie reminded him, toweling vigorously off before she wrapped the towel around herself, spa-style, and sat at the little couch. Hunter sat down across from her.

Hunter patiently answered them. He’d been two when he first started shifting. It was genetic; his six brothers and his father were all bears.

“Your poor mom,” Trixie observed. Hunter assured her that women were just as frequently shifters, when she quizzed him on that.

He conceded that he was stronger as a shifter but more along the lines of naturally athletic than supernatural. Trixie stroked an arm and hrmed a little skeptically as he flexed it under her fingers.

“Telepathy? Can you talk to other shifters with your brain?”

“Nope. Not except with my bear.”

“Your bear is another voice in your head?”

“Frequently.”

“Is that… uncomfortable?”

Hunter looked like he was genuinely considering the question. “He’s been there since I was very little. We grew up together. I can’t imagine him not being there.”

“I don’t know how I’d feel about having someone always looking over my shoulder while I read dirty books or did dishes. Do you get equal time with your shapes? Is it like a timeshare? Or does he control a few limbs? Does he sleep? ”

Hunter chuckled. “He’s never minded my habits. We shift when we have the opportunity, but mostly he’s along for the ride. He’s never taken over, but he might get a little noisy and distracting when instinct is strong. He’s more or less present all the time. I don’t think he sleeps, exactly.”

“What do you mean when you say instinct?”

Hunter opened his mouth and shut it again, frowning. “Like it sounds, but… more. Instinct is like another sense, so describing it is like describing a sight to someone who is blind. I know when something is wrong or right, in a vague way. I can tell when I’m near a shifter.”

“Which is how you knew Kyle and Keith were wolves.” Trixie was still wrapped in nothing but her towel, but the heater was running, and the trailer was warm.

“I don’t know for sure that they are wolves,” Hunter cautioned.

Trixie told herself that she shouldn’t feel disappointed that there were a few basic limitations to magic.

“So our case isn’t quite as open and closed as I’d hoped, not that your instinct would be anything to take to the cops.

Can you bring it up in casual conversation? ‘I’m a bear, are you a wolf?’”

“It’s rude,” Hunter said, sounding snobbish. Or, maybe it was just aloof. He was such an enigma. “Shift type is pretty much on a need-to-know basis.”

It still bothered Trixie. “Why would Keith or Kyle have a vendetta against the project? I could hire them over the winter if we get the shell up in time. There aren’t a lot of job options here, and I don’t feel like I’m a bad boss.”

“You’re not a bad boss,” Hunter said firmly, scooting closer on the couch to put a hand on her bare knee. “You’re a great boss. You can boss me around any day.”

Trixie hadn’t been fishing for the compliment, but it warmed her to her toes .

“Speaking of bosses…”

“I’m not working for you right now…” Hunter leaned forward to pin her against the couch and slowly kiss her.

Trixie had wanted to ask about soulmates, but he seemed tired of questions, and he had a better idea anyway…