Does a Bear Shift in the Woods (Bear Bites Book 4) by Ruby Dixon Page A

Say it and I’ll take you back.” I hold my breath because even if she says it, I’m ignoring it. I’m not letting her go again. That was my first mistake, and I ain’t gonna repeat it.
    Her fists of fury pause in mid-strike. “No,” she says softly, “I’m not saying that word.”
    “Good,” I grunt. The relief I feel at her response makes me weak in the knees, and I almost stumble near the porch. It doesn’t get any easier when her hands stop making fists and start rubbing over my back and ass.
    “What are you going to do with me?” she asks. Her voice doesn’t sound as hollow or tired anymore, and the slight scent of musk rises to fill my nose.
    “I’m tying you up and keeping you in bed until you agree to be my mate.”
    She shifts a little, and the musk scent gets stronger. I move faster, through the door and then up to the bedroom.
    “And after I agree to that? Then what?”
    I toss her down onto the bed and watch with satisfaction as her ample chest jiggles as she bounces on the mattress. I dig out some rope that I use for climbing and wrap it around her wrists. “Then I keep on keeping you, but you can go to work and shit so long as you come home to me every night.” I pause. “How many other men are you going to be doing this to?” I wave a finger in front of my face.
    “After they see your transformation? The whole town, I’d guess,” she teases.
    I frown. I don’t much like the idea of her rubbing all those other men. “You giving those rubdowns as part of every cut?” I force myself not to tie her too tight to the bed.
    “No, I can have the shop assistant do that,” she admits. “I did it for you because I wanted you to feel good.”
    “It felt too good.” I rub a hand across my aching dick. “I’ve had a hard-on since I sat in your chair. Don’t want you making other males feel like that.”
    She hides a smile, and the band around my chest starts to ease. I fasten her wrists and feet to the bed.
    “Hang on,” I tell her. Downstairs, I prepare a quick venison sandwich and bring it up along with a tall glass of milk.
    “You’re going to eat in front of me?” she asks, torn between laughter and dismay.
    “Nah, baby, this is for you.” I set the tray on the bed and then pull out my hunting knife. “We’ll buy you some new clothes, but around here, you wear nothing.” She doesn’t protest when I slice the clothes off. Instead, her eyes grow diamond bright, and the heady scent of her arousal fills the room. I take a deep drag, like a drug addict draining his pipe dry. My cock pulses behind the zipper of my pants, but I ignore it because there are more important things to do, like feed my mate and then make sure she comes so hard she can’t remember anything of her life before me.
    “You really like your style?” she asks between bites of her sandwich.
    “Yeah.” I stroke my fingers across the soft beard. “You left me with some hair, which is good. You like it?” That’s what’s important. I’d be bald if that was what she wanted.
    “Yeah, I like it.” She jerks her hand against the restraint as if she’d like to touch me. “Can’t you untie me? I want to pet the beard.”
    “Later.” I feed her the last bit of sandwich and then hold the glass to her mouth. “Now you tell me what happened in California that got you all gun-shy about this mate bond, because I’m not the only one who was feeling unsure our first night.”
    She gulps down the milk and then releases a long sigh. “The story makes me sound pathetic.”
    “Nah. If it involves a shifter that didn’t want you, then he’s the dumbest thing on four feet.”
    “It’s a short story. I was with a wolf in the Thorne pack. The alpha died in a freak lightning incident and my guy—” A growl builds in my throat at her using the possessive word in conjunction with another male. “The guy,” she corrects and then raises an eyebrow at me. I give her a nod to go ahead, and she rolls her eyes.