Crush knew, deep down, that getting this involved with Cella Malone was a one-way ticket to crazyville. His nice, quiet, extremely dangerous life would be turned on its head as soon as he had this woman’s pussy on his cock. His quiet nights at home—when he wasn’t being a cop and risking his life—would be over. There would be no quiet anything with Malone in his life. Was she worth the trouble?

He wasn’t sure, but then she leaned in, sniffed his neck, and gently scraped a fang across his jugular. The last of Crush’s restraint snapped, his hands tightening around her waist. He lifted her up, pulled her in closer, and while staring into her eyes, slammed her down hard on his cock, at the same time bringing up his hips.

The feline roared, her head dropping back, her arms wrapping around his neck. She held on tight, breathing in deep and taking a moment before she looked at him.

Panting hard, they watched each other.

“Well,” she sighed, “that does feel good.”

Crush couldn’t even answer her. He was too wound up. Too hard. God, the things he wanted to do this woman. It was taking every ounce of strength he had to—

“I’m a lot tougher than my pretty eyes and perfect bone structure might lead you to believe, Crushek. I can handle whatever you got for me.”

Unable to form words—at least coherent ones—Crush leaned closer, breathing in her scent. He growled, low, his fangs easing from his gums, his hands sliding up her sides, then her arms.

Crush moved forward, his hands tightening around hers, his body pushing her back until he had the top half of her pressed down to the table. Did he mention he loved how flexible she was? Because she didn’t seem to mind at all how he had her.

And he had her right where he wanted her.

He had her arms pinned above her head with his own, his head pressed against her chest. The low growl he unleashed rumbled through him and straight into her while he slowly rubbed his face against her T-shirt–covered breasts. And the entire time, she still sat in his lap, on his cock, completely filled and ready to burst.

Cella realized she was having trouble catching her breath, her body beginning to shake. It felt really good to have him so close to her, inside her.

But he wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving?

Taking both her wrists in one hand, Crush used the other to push up her shirt and then his teeth to rip her bra in half. Her back arched and he took that for the invite it was, wrapping his mouth around her breast, his tongue teasing the nipple. And, uh, what were his lips doing? Because they were doing something amazing. And ridiculously intense. So intense, she tried to move away, but his grip on her wrists only tightened.

She knew what he was doing, the tricky bastard. With every twist and tug and tease of her breast, her pussy tightened around his cock like a vise. Hisgrowling grew harsher, louder, and the vibration of it against her flesh had her nearly out of her mind. She panted, she mewled, she might have hissed a few times. Then she was coming. Coming so very hard that she cried out.

The bear lifted his head to gaze at her with those black eyes.

“You all right?” And she wondered if he realized he was still growling at her.

Unable to answer since she was still panting, Cella nodded.

“Good.” Remaining inside her, Crush slowly stood, releasing her arms so that he could carefully lift her legs and drape them over his forearms. “ ’Cause I’m not really done yet.”

Grinning, Cella lifted her arms over her head again and gripped the edge of the table. “Glad to hear it.”

It was too much. She was too much. The way she watched him with those bright gold eyes. She was challenging him. Wasn’t she always, though? And he no longer minded. He was really getting to like it. To like her. Difficult, crazy woman that she was.

Still careful of her leg, Crush stepped close to the table while pulling her out just a bit. She gripped his table so hard, her knuckles turned white. Her demanding gaze never left his face. He knew what she was telling him, without saying a word: “Fuck me as hard as you want. We both know I can take it.”

So that’s exactly what Crush did.

He fucked her hard, gripping her legs tight, his gaze locked with hers. Until her pussy contracted around him again. Her neck arched, her legs shaking in his arms, her panting turning into harsh cries. She was coming again and so was he. Coming so hard, he couldn’t see straight, could barely stand. He could only feel and wow ... did he feel great!

Crush erupted inside her, his breath leaving him in a long rush, his legs nearly buckling. He slammed his elbows against the table to stop from falling and took a moment to get his breath back.

After several long minutes, Cella sighed into the silence, “Holy shit! You’re the best pretend boyfriend ever.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A fresh ice pack was placed on her knee and Cella opened her eyes, smiling up at the bear standing over her.

After pulling up his pants, he’d carried her up to his room and laid her down on his bed, covering her with a blanket. Then he was gone and Cella was too tired and sated to really give a shit. She might have dozed, but not for long.

“The swelling’s down,” he told her, adjusting the ice pack.

“It usually doesn’t last too long. Although, last night I thought it would last forever.”

“It must be a nightmare after every game.”

“It is. But what can I do?”

“They can’t fix it?”

“Sure. If I want a full knee replacement.”