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  After a moment of consideration, Sasha answered, “Is that two questions in a row, without giving me my chance?”

  Devon smiled, clearly impressed with her keen wit. “One question, two parts.”

  Sasha nodded, knowing his wiles had exceeded hers. “Um, no, I… I’ve never read the bible, tell you the truth.”

  “Always do tell me the truth, Sasha. Please.” Sasha nodded, a smile forcing its way onto her face before Devon went on, “But the bible does say, 'All fat is blessed.’ Did you know that?” Sasha shook her head, and Devon added, “Even if you don’t believe in everything the bible offers, you have to admit it’s a pretty goddamned well-read book.”

  Sasha couldn’t help but chuckle, at nothing more than the turn of phrase and its context.

  Devon said, “Years later, in Europe mostly, I think, ample men and women were the wealthy and powerful, the chic and the desirable. Men wore their wealth on their bellies. The Flemish artist Peter Paul Rubens painted voluptuous women to the delight of patrons of his own time and ours. And before that, in the dawn of what we now call civilization, a fine, ample woman like you would have been the most desirable of all. You’d be more resilient to the weather, more likely to procreate.”

  Sasha knew what he was getting at, and she didn’t want to say anything to derail his train of thought.

  “And besides all that,” Devon went on, “there’s a question of taste. My own taste runs toward the soft, the smooth, full round curves, deep valleys, hot with morning mist.” A lump rose in Sasha’s throat as Devon went on, “High mountains, flowing streams, a fleshy landscape to explore, a soft bed to fall into. In this life, those soft beds are hard to come by.”

  “I… I guess that’s true,” Sasha said.

  “No, Sasha, you don’t. You’ve felt this way for too long to just change with a few flattering words. But you’ll come to believe it, if you’ll let me help you.”

  Sasha’s imagination was already running wild, visions of riding that man like a wild stallion, being drilled by him from behind, his hand slapping her cheeks while he filled her completely. She swallowed hard, hoping her distraction wasn’t too obvious and hoping even more that he was thinking the same things.

  He asked only, “Well?” Confusion swirled around Sasha like a miniature tornado, nearly sweeping her off her feet. Devon seemed to read her uncertainty, and he explained, “Your turn, Sasha; quid pro quo.”

  Sasha realized only then that she’d forgotten about their deal entirely. But given the floor, she realized she had nothing but questions for the handsome and mysterious stranger, so new to Hangman’s Gulch and to her heart.

  “Well,” she said, “who are you… really?”

  He smiled, nodding in a kind of wordless appreciation of her keen mind. “Very good, Sasha, very good. Who am I? I’m… quite like you, I believe. I’m one of the last of my… my line, let’s say.” Sasha knew he was right again, that she and Mamma were the last of the Nichols line. “I’m a loner, an individual in a world of couples, groups, communities. Again, like you?”

  Sasha felt lost in her reflection, unable to disagree. “Yes.”

  Devon went on, “I’m not searching for anything in particular, uncertain of my true destiny.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I have a purpose, and that’s what keeps me going.” Yes, Sasha wanted to say, but couldn’t. Getting no answer, Devon asked her, “What’s your purpose, Sasha?”

  Sasha searched her imagination, but couldn’t find an answer. “I… I guess I don’t have one.”

  “No, Sasha, no, you do have a purpose. Every living thing on this Earth has a purpose: to kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, to pollinate, to irrigate, to procreate. We all have a purpose, set aside for us in particular. You just haven’t found yours yet.”

  A warm wave passed through Sasha’s body, her thick legs suddenly weak, threatening to let her drop to that dusty, wooden floor.

  “Okay,” Sasha just barely managed to say, “my turn. Um… if you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

  He seemed to enjoy another little chuckle. “What makes you think I don’t already have everything I want?”

  Sasha wasn’t expecting that answer, and she had to scramble for a response. But nervousness and excitement made thinking difficult. “Just… wondering.”

  He nodded. “All right. Well, there are a few things I’d take, given the chance: a family, a wife, love.”

  “Oh, I… I see.” Sasha looked around, but only to avoid looking into those gorgeous, brown eyes. “You… you don’t seem like the kind of man girls turn away, is all.”

  Devon shrugged. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right woman… ’til now.”

  The scream sent a bolt of panic up Sasha’s spine. She knew from years in the desert what created that hell-born wail, and turned to see the big mountain lion entering through the exit door she’d come through and stupidly left open.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sasha backed up as the great cat stalked toward her. It was bigger than any she’d ever seen, well over the usual one to two hundred pounds. Its black face parted as its pink mouth opened again, licking its chops as it approached Sasha, readying for a kill.

  “Hey,” Devon barked at the animal, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The cat turned and shrieked at Devon, clearly torn between his prey. “You want a nice, tasty meal? You’re looking in the wrong direction.”

  The cat wailed again, looking from Sasha to Devon and back, clearly deliberating its choice, weighing the risks. Devon took off his colors, setting the hardened leather jacket in a corner of the room.

  “You know you want me,” Devon said. “You know you can’t turn your back on me to attack her, not now, not anymore.” The cat stood, listening in a way that struck Sasha as more than eerie, beyond reason. Devon went on, “Yeah, you’re the big cat around here, eh? Alpha male, apex predator?”

  The cat screamed as if to agree, like the two understood each other in a way that was impossible to Sasha’s mind.

  “Good,” Devon said. “I respect a worthy adversary.”

  The cat turned, stepping cautiously toward Devon as the handsome stranger egged him on, goading him with flips of his upturned fingers. “Come on, big fella, come and get me… if you dare.”

  The cat stood frozen, and Sasha could tell it was reconsidering its options. The cat cast a quick glance behind it, tail twitching nervously, which told Sasha that the beast was rethinking its approach. An easy exit was still available, if the cat had the good sense to take it. Though what it was about Devon that a three-hundred-pound mountain lion would have to be afraid of, Sasha still could not be sure.

  The cat seemed uncertain too, but its instincts were clearly too much to resist. Sasha gaped as the cat took a single step, then crouched down and pounced on Devon, head-on.

  “Devon!”

  But Devon’s attention was obviously fixed on the cat, and he met the flying beast with incredible certainty. With a warrior’s cry, Devon turned the animal’s forward-moving energy against it, grabbing the great cat and spinning to hurl it at the wall. The mountain lion screamed, and Sasha could hear the shock in its cry as it flew from its prey and into the wall. It bashed through the rotted wooden boards, sunlight spilling in through the new hole.

  Sasha couldn’t breathe, her heart threatening to burst behind her ribs.

  Devon stood ready as the cat jumped back through the hole, landing and turning instantly to face Devon before pouncing again. Devon delivered a tremendous punch to the cat’s face, its head snapping to the side. But the move failed to halt the cat’s charge, and all three hundred pounds of it came crashing down onto Devon, who fell back onto the boards with the cat on top of him.

  Sasha was certain that Devon was done for. She screamed out, “Devon!” and then, “Get off him, you fucking overgrown bobcat!” She stepped forward and threw a hard kick into the cougar’s side, but the weight and
size of the creature sent her foot snapping back. The big cat didn’t seem to even have noticed.

  Sasha had no choice but to step back and watch, hoping and praying and knowing that it was all in vain; her prayers and her hopes and her new desires were about to be dashed to bloody bits right before her eyes.

  Instead, something more wondrous than she had any right or reason to expect occurred, drawing the breath from her lungs, blood slowing to a crawl in her veins. Devon was under the cat, her view of him obstructed. That changed in an instant, and Sasha was almost moved to vomiting to see his arms grow thick and hairy, incredible black claws pushing out from what had been his fingers, now stumpy, meaty paws.

  His body, head, and legs did likewise, his pants tearing, shirt ripping away as his body expanded. Thick brown fur sprang from his stretched skin, his human cry becoming a beastly roar.

  No, Sasha told herself, it can’t be… it… it’s not possible!

  But there was no denying the flurry of violence erupting in front of her. Where Devon had been there was now a great grizzly bear, many times bigger than the cat assaulting it. Even the mountain lion seemed confused, almost crazed as it scratched and thrashed at its unearthly adversary.

  The bear threw the cat across the room and rolled over to stand on all fours, roaring and shaking its mighty head, long, white fangs dripping with saliva and a hunger for the righteous kill.

  Sasha stepped back from that battle of titans. Though she had little doubt as to which would be the winner, Sasha felt carried away by the impulsive and immediate violence, a match she’d never witnessed in all her years among murderers and their victims.

  The cat seemed revved up, driven beyond reason to follow its instincts. It was kill or be killed, just as Devon had said, and the cat clearly did not want to be killed.

  And Devon didn’t seem as if he could be killed, or that he could exist at all.

  The cat jumped again, and Sasha could see the calculation in its eyes, the twitch of its tail. The animal’s scream echoed in the little, dusty room. The cat landed on the bear’s back, clearly digging in with its front claws, scraping its hind claws into the bear’s back, tearing into his thick hide to the layer of fat beneath.

  Fat, Sasha thought, even in the scrambling chaos of the animals’ death battle. Rolls of thick fat pulsed beneath the bear’s tough hide, layered over heavy muscle, Sasha had little doubt. No wonder, she thought. No wonder he understands me the way he does, is attracted to me the way he is.

  No wonder. ‘All fat is blessed.’

  Devon in his bear form spun and reached back to pull the great cat from his back, but it was hardly a split second before he clearly decided on a different strategy. The bear rolled over with a growl, and Sasha’s heart skipped again. She stepped back once more as the cat jumped for its life, seconds from being crushed to death by the bear’s superior and irresistible weight.

  The cat hit the wooden floor with a creak and a scream and turned, fixed on the bear as its mortal enemy, no power to resist another attack. But it seemed to hesitate, glancing at the exit in the back of the building. Tail twitching even more, Sasha felt as if she could read the cat’s frantic mind, feel the centuries of evolution piling up behind the great cat and pushing it forward, whatever the result.

  The cat jumped again, its cry filled with terror and anger, frustrated rage spilling out of every pore. Sasha could almost smell the aggression, stepping back further and knowing with a terrible dread what would happen next.

  Death.

  The bear which had been Devon, and still was, as far as Sasha could tell, swung its tremendous arm in a semicircle in front of it, straight into the face of the oncoming cougar. Both animals roared as the cat spun in midair. The cat hit the opposite wall to the one it had plunged through before, this time crashing hard and falling to the floor in a sagging, exhausted mess.

  Devon struck, roaring and charging. Sasha stepped away, eyes fixed on the combat as the bear fell upon the stricken cat. Its great arms rose and fell, the cat screaming and flailing beneath it, tail swinging wildly and without purpose. Whatever purpose that animal had contributed to the cycle of life, it was coming to a bloody and violent end.

  The bear kept roaring and striking, the cat’s dying cries fading as the sounds of its ripping flesh and tearing hide eclipsed its death throes. Finally, the cat lay still under the furious bear, a pool of blood stretching out beneath it.

  The bear stepped away, leaving the eviscerated carcass of the dead mountain lion lying face up, terror in its frozen scream, eyes wide and staring up at nothing.

  Then the bear turned on Sasha. She gasped and stepped backward until the wooden walls halted her retreat. There was nothing she could do and nowhere she could run, caught between a rock and a thing hard to understand.

  It growled, low and deep, and the roiling flesh of its throat seemed to vibrate through Sasha’s body. It shook her ribs, it stirred the bile in her gut, it inspired the juices collecting below. It stepped toward her, seeming to know that her life was in his deadly paws. Each step made Sasha’s heart beat faster, cold sweat collecting on the back of her neck.

  Then the bear stopped and lowered its head in front of her. Sasha waited, watching the stilled animal as it seemed to bow before her, as if offering himself to her as a servant, a subject, a defender.

  Sasha wasn’t sure why or how, but her hand reached out against her own better judgment. Her hand quivered a bit before gently resting on the bear’s forehead, fur thick and bristly beneath her soft skin. But it changed fast, faster than Sasha could understand. She looked down and suddenly the bear was gone. In its place was Devon Caine, on his knees before her, offering her everything that he was, and everything she could be.

  She accepted.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Devon stood up, moving slowly and with certainty, his eyes locked on Sasha’s. He was naked, scraps of his clothes lying near his undamaged colors. His chest and arms were caked with muscle, not a speck of the fat he admired so much. His torso tapered down to a narrow waist; his legs were long and strong, brown hair thin over those muscular thighs and calves.

  His manhood stretched out at her, long and thick, both intimidating and enticing.

  Sasha’s own voice surprised her, low and soft. “Who… what… are you?”

  Devon raised a strong hand to her face, his thumb gently glancing her cheek. “You already know,” he said before leaning down to kiss her. His lips were smooth amid his stubbly chin and cheeks. His tongue reached out to meet hers, soft and supple and warm in her mouth, her tongue matching his in a quickening dance, wet and wonderful. Sasha could feel his power, sense his incredible strength even in that tender moment.

  “Why me? Why?”

  “Let me show you.”

  He stripped Sasha of her T-shirt as she climbed out of her jeans, her bare flesh revealed to him. He smiled to survey her physique, his hands finding her bountiful breasts, gently squeezing them and sending a wave of pleasure through her. Sasha leaned her head back, pouting lips open in a sigh as his thumb and finger took her hardened nipple, pulling it just a bit, her nerves crackling with delight.

  His hand slid down to her belly, the place of her greatest insecurity. But Devon slid his palm and fingers over her, smooth and sweet. He smiled and leaned toward her ear, whispering, “You’re beautiful,” before kissing her neck, his breath hot and sweet as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, her chest.

  Sasha went limp in his embrace, and Devon lowered her to the wood floor, hard against her soft, supple back. Looming above her, Devon laid down a trail of kisses, from her neck to her breast, taking one nipple into his mouth while his fingers deftly tweaked the other. His tongue traced circles around her areola, lips tight on her nipple. He kissed his way to the other breast, his other hand cupping the former. He kissed her undercarriage, the side of her bosom, rising with her panted breathing.

  She rested her hand on the back of his head, fingers combing t
hat long, brown hair, spilling over his gorgeous face in long, shimmering locks.

  Devon kissed his way down her belly, nose and forehead pushing into her soft flesh, snuggling and comforting as he made his way to the dewy patch between her legs. Sasha parted her legs while Devon took his place between them, each hand resting on her outer thighs. His face sank down into her, his tongue flicking and tickling her swollen labia, juices leaking out to prepare her other tissues, peeking out to meet him with cautious wonder. Devon drew her out of hiding, her pink flower finally opening up to him, blooming with fragrance and color.

  Devon’s tongue was an unseen blur, up and down and side to side, slathering her with his warm saliva, juices commingling. His breath collected between her upper thighs and around her abdomen, her hips shifting and pushing up off the floor. Sasha wanted to be closer, to have him deeper inside her, to increase the pangs of pleasure. Her fingers closed around stalks of that thick, brown hair, pulling with increasing strength to match her rising passion. Hips rising, hands pushing and pulling, Sasha was consumed with pleasure, her head lolling on that hardwood floor, blonde hair spilling out to the side.

  Her tissues were burning with Devon’s attention, that tongue and those lips conspiring to drive her to new heights, lungs quivering, limbs beginning to tremble.

  “So beautiful,” he purred, his voice vibrating in the bottom of her belly. His hands caressed her thighs, reaching around from the outside in, fingers sliding gracefully over her soft flesh. “So beautiful.”

  Devon moved up and forward, and Sasha knew what was coming next. She spread her legs further, arms reaching out, hands pressing against the wood floor as he took his place above her. His eyes were locked on hers as he inserted himself, letting his huge head rest between her engorged lips. It pushed her little labia to the sides, and Devon pushed in just a bit further, again holding his position.

  Sasha was impatient, wanting more, but Devon was in control and that was something she wanted even more. Devon pushed in further, only a bit and very slowly, then pulled back, once again letting his head rest between her lips. Devon pushed forward and back, beginning a very slow cycle, in and out with frustrating slowness, deliberately refusing to give Sasha what he clearly knew she needed.