Abruptly pulling back, her eyes wide, Gwen gaped at him.

“The way you kiss,” she gasped. “You do something…weird.”

He scowled. “It’s not weird.”

“Not bad weird but,” one finger slid across his bottom lip and his entire body shuddered, “amazing weird.”

Weird was still weird to Lock, but she didn’t seem freaked out or anything. Besides, he might as well tell her and get it out of the way. “It’s nothing, really. We, bears I mean, have, uh…well, the technical term is prehensile-type lips.”

Gwen’s eyes focused on his mouth, her brow furrowed as she studied it for a long moment. “You have what?”

Gosh, this was awkward. “I mean…” Damn, what did he mean? “They can move independently. When I’m bear, they’re completely unattached from my jaw, and as human—I can kind of play with that.”

She leaned back a little more, her furrowed brow turning to an outright frown and well on its way to a healthy scowl. “Are you telling me that your lips are like…” She had this look on her face that could be a look of disgust or a look of confusion, he had no idea which one. Confusion he could handle…disgust, however…

“Your lips are like fingers?”

He swallowed, terrified he was about to lose everything with this answer, but Lock had never been one to lie about much, especially himself.

“Yeah,” he admitted, reluctantly. “I guess that’s one way of—”

She shoved and Lock moved back from her, watching in stunned silence as she ran out of the kitchen.

Gee, is that my broken heart lying on the floor? Yes. Yes, it is.

Wait. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily, was he? Simply because she didn’t understand? No way.

Determined, Lock stalked out of the kitchen, through his dining room, and into the hallway. He looked toward the front door, expecting to see Gwen struggling with the security system. She wasn’t.

More curious than panicked now, Lock sniffed the air and followed Gwen’s scent…to his bedroom.

As he walked in a sneaker hit him in the forehead.

“Why are you still dressed?” she demanded, standing in the middle of his bed. “Get naked!” Another sneaker hit him in the head.

“Uh…Gwen?”

“What? You’re asking me questions now? Why are you asking me questions now?”

Because she was freaking him out?

Gwen tore off her socks and then went for her jeans.

“What are you doing?” he asked, completely confused.

“I know, I know.” She was panting. Heavily. “You want something more organic or romantic or some other bullshit, but I don’t have time for that.”

“Why? Do you have to be—”

“I mean, seriously…how manytimes in a girl’s life can she hope…even dream?”

“Gwen, I don’t under—”

“I swear,” she begged while wiggling out of her jeans before she sent them flying, “you take care of me, I swear, swear, swear I’ll take care of you. I just need you to do this for me.”

And there went her panties.

“That sounds great, but I guess I’m unclear—”

“Unclear?” she snapped. “You tell me your lips function like fingers and you’re unclear? On what exactly?”

Lock took a moment to luxuriate in the wonder that was Mr. Mittens. Because, holy hell, he adored this woman!

“I see.”

“I hope so.” Completely naked from the waist down, Gwen stretched out across Lock’s bed, her feet pointing at him, and spread her legs. She fisted her hands at her side and said, “Okay, do it. Wait!” She reached over and grabbed one of his pillows, covering her face. “Okay,” she said behind the pillow, “now do it.”

Unable to help himself, Lock teased, “If you’re sure.”

The pillow slammed against the bed, and that desperate feline glared at him from beneath a mass of unruly curls. “Oh, my God! I will kill you!”

“Okay, okay.” Laughing, Lock kneeled on his bed. “No need to get crazy. I’ve got it covered.”

She made a little whimpering sound and covered her face up with the pillow again. He wasn’t sure why, but who cared? Because at this moment, in his perfect universe, he had Gwen O’Neill right where he wanted her.

Gwen caught her lip between her teeth and peeked around that pillow like a nervous virgin. She watched, barely able to breathe, as Lock hooked his arms under her knees and lifted her legs up and back, giving him complete access to her pussy. He gazed down, giving her a brief second of concern, before he licked his lips and lowered his head between her thighs.

To Gwen, there was absolutely nothing sexier than that first moment a man went down on a woman. In this case, however, she knew she’d never find anything sexier than Lock MacRyrie doing it. He’d given her that explanation about his mouth earlier as if he’d had no idea the power of what he was telling her. Did he not know that some women searched their entire lives looking for a man who’d developed the kind of talents Lock had gotten naturally from his DNA? Of course, this explained why She-bears never talked about their men.

Why would they? Why would they give up the secret of their happy marriages? Only a fool would do that, and bears were never fools.

Lock kissed the inside of her thighs, gently licking and nipping the sensitive flesh. He took his time, and Gwen refused to say a word. She wouldn’t say anything that would ruin this. Not with her big mouth. Not a word. Not a syllable. Nothing.