The Bear Who Loved Me (9 page)

“But—”

She wasn't getting it. “I'm the Maximus here. I've been bred and trained from the beginning to be responsible for my people.”

“I know—”

“I don't get distracted. It's not who I am.”

She was silent, and he could all but hear her thoughts churning. She was struggling to understand a world vastly different from her own, and he couldn't have been more pleased when her scent went from wary to aroused. From frightened to intrigued. Unable to stop himself, he touched her stubborn chin and steadily turned her until she was looking into his eyes. The man in him knew he needed to give her more time, but once her arousal colored the air, the grizzly demanded he possess her now that they were alone in a safe environment. It was an insanely aggressive physical push to own her as the war between grizzly and man ratcheted up exponentially.

So he chose to explain rather than to take. To tell her things he barely acknowledged to himself, much less to anyone else. But his grizzly gave him no choice. She had to know who she was to his bear.

“There's only one thing that can distract an alpha like me. Only one time when the primal drives override everything else.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn't ask. He willed her to form the words, but she didn't. So he had to fill in the last piece for her.

“It's when his true mate appears. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's undeniable. It's some magical alchemy of animal and man and the special pressure of being clan leader. To be honest, I didn't think it more than a fairy tale.”

She took a step back, the motion a sure stab into his heart. Her scent was muddled now, holding notes of confusion, fear, lust, and delight. “That's all this is. A fairy tale. A nightmare or a fever dream or…I don't know. None of this is real.”

She needed to believe that because it was coming at her too fast. He sympathized but his bear would not let her run from this. “It's real, Becca.” He snared her elbow and kept her close without dragging her back against her will. “You're my Maxima.”

“I can't be. I'm not even… We don't even know that Theo—”

“Don't care,” he said, his temper getting short. The more she fought him, the more his bear got pissed off. And right now, all it wanted to do was drag her back into his arms and stake his claim. But that was the bear in him. The man knew to insist she listen, but not force her to do more. “I know this is coming at you too fast.”

“Ya think?”

“But I also know I can't let you leave. Not until we find Theo. Not until you give us a chance.”

“A chance? To what? Mate like animals in the woods?”

“Yes! No!” He grabbed hold of his temper with an act of will. “I am not an animal, Becca, but I do have certain instincts.”

“Instincts!” She threw the word at him like an insult.

“Yes.” He drew her face up to his. “And they tell me that you're the one for me.”

“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how insane that is? There is no destined queen for you. There is no soul mate or fairy godmother or Beauty to tame your Beast. None of this is real!”

That was it. That was where his temper broke and he gave up trying to talk logically to her. This wasn't about rational thinking anyway. It was her denial, and he couldn't let her have it. There was too much at stake.

They
were at stake.

So he kissed her. He hauled her into his arms and he slammed his mouth down on hers. It wasn't how a man kissed a woman. It wasn't even how an animal claimed its mate. It was some combination of that plus more. It was need. He needed her to acknowledge him. He needed her to accept that they were real. He needed her to want him as insanely desperately as he wanted her.

Which made no sense at all. They barely knew each other. And yet it was real.

She fought him, but only for a moment. She stiffened in his arms, she pushed at his chest, and she tightened her mouth against him. But somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, she surrendered. He'd barely touched her lips when she began to open to him. He hadn't even gotten his arms around her when her hands changed from pushing him away to clutching him closer. And then she whimpered, a sound that was both lust and surrender.

And now she understood. She hungered for him as fiercely as he lusted for her. She didn't want to. Neither did he. A human Maxima caused all sorts of problems. But this was undeniable. And so they kissed.

Hard. Hot.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. The bear in him had taken over. She belonged in his bed. And he was going to claim her.

Now.

I
've lost my mind.
That was all Becca could think as she felt Carl lift her up. Of all the insane things that had happened in the last few days, this had to rank as the most bizarre. She was kissing a man who turned into a bear. She was kissing a man who had dragged her unwillingly into his terrifying world of magic. And yet she couldn't stop.

He'd protected her when she'd thought he'd abandoned her.

He was marshaling people throughout the state to find Theo.

And he kissed her like she was his last breath.

Maybe it was the adrenaline. After all, she'd been keyed up all day, with no way to expend her energies.

Maybe it was because she hadn't been touched in a long time, and certainly not the way he was touching her. Even his gaze was like a physical caress, and she'd been feeling it on her since she'd woken up in his bedroom eons ago.

He set her on her feet beside his bed, simultaneously kicking the door shut. Then he unbuttoned her blouse while pressing tiny, licking kisses across her cheek and jaw.

“I can't stop,” he murmured against her ear. “I can't. Tell me you want this, too.”

Her fingers curled into the soft fleece of his red checked shirt. Then she began to pull apart his buttons. “Yes,” she said. And when his hips jerked in response, pressing the hot ridge of his cock against her, she tilted her head up to look him in the eyes. “No diseases, right?” she asked, before she lost all reason. “No weird shifter thing I should know about beforehand?”

“All human normal,” he said, his eyes dark and intense as he looked at her. Then he flashed a wicked smile. “Though my endurance might be legendary.”

He tugged her blouse off her shoulders, and she hated that she had to let go of him to strip it away. Then he slid his palms around her rib cage to unhook her bra. He was so big, it felt like he could touch all of her.

“Legendary?” she said breathlessly. “That's quite a statement.”

“I like filling a woman,” he said. “The feel of her wet and hot around me.” Her bra released and he tossed it aside. “I can stroke her all day until she can't stand it anymore.”

The idea made her insides clench in hunger. The way he said it though—with a growl low in his throat—set everything in her to wild. She wanted to climb onto him, spreading her legs so he could take her standing.

Meanwhile, he moved to press tiny licks across the curve of her shoulder. “You taste amazing.”

She had his shirt unbuttoned, but couldn't do more than press it off his shoulders. At least she could feel the muscled strength there, the broad expanse and—Ooh!

He abruptly cradled her head and shoulders while lifting her knees. She upended into his arms so he could lay her out on the bed. It added to her topsy-turvy feelings and she embraced them willingly, shedding the last of her inhibitions. Nothing was sane. Nothing was stable. She might as well hold on to what she could: him. And the exciting way he made her feel.

He settled her on the bed, her torso bared to his mouth as he began to lick her nipples one after the other. He didn't bite, but when he chose to suck, lightning seemed to arc straight to her womb.

“Not enough,” he said against her breast, and she couldn't have agreed more.

She felt his hands fumbling with her jeans. She thought about helping him, but had more fun stroking her hands across his chest and using her thumbnails to scratch at his nipples. He growled the first time she did it—a low rumble that made her smile. Half purr, half hunger. She could listen to that forever.

Then suddenly his touch disappeared. Her breasts ached at the loss, suddenly cold and erotically tight. He loomed over her, his gaze roving over her body. Then he moved, putting his hands on her jeans and jerking them down with a single flick of his wrists. She'd been stripped naked in a split second. Perfect. Then she helped him by kicking the pants away when they caught on her heel.

“You glow, did you know that? What I see …” He stroked a hand down her quivering belly. “Golden bright.”

She didn't know what to say to that. She could only stare at the wonder in his face. The moment felt startlingly intense to be the subject of such amazement. As though he worshipped her even as he slowly—firmly—pulled his hands down her hips and thighs to spread her knees.

He took a deep breath, his eyes rolling back slightly.

“Ambrosia,” he murmured.

Then he dove in.

She felt no subtlety in his movement, and given that he was such a large man, he moved surprisingly fast. One moment he stood poised above her, his mouth curved in appreciation. Then next, his tongue stroked her core, licking her in wide swaths that had her arching in shocked delight.

No one had ever done that to her. Not with such voracious appetite. No question that he loved tasting every inch of her, and she sped to her peak like a freight train. He took her there without compromise, without pause, and when she exploded, she screamed his name.

She'd never climaxed so fast or so hard, her hips bucking against his hands as he held her contained on the bed. But rather than stop, he softened his caress. His tongue slid around, everywhere but her peak. And when he pushed his fingers inside her, she continued to clutch at him, trying to draw in more. Deeper, harder.

He pressed his lips to her thigh, nuzzling her gently.

“Do that again for me,” he said as she felt more fingers push inside.

She couldn't comprehend what he was asking. She was still floating, her belly constricting in slowly diminishing pulses.

“Again,” he said.

Then she felt his thumb across her clit. First a roll, then a slow circular motion. Her body jolted in reaction and he softened his pressure. It was too much…for a moment. And then it was just right. And then…

“Oh God,” she gasped. “You really mean it.”

“All day, Becca. God, I never want to stop.” The fingers deep inside her shifted and pulled.

G-spot!

She hadn't even thought it was real, but he stroked it perfectly.

“I can't!” she cried, though she already knew she could. And that he wouldn't stop.

She threw her head back, her body lifting up to his. She closed her eyes while he stroked every intimate place. Once. Twice.

Her breath caught. She was almost—

He stopped.

He slowed.

Soothing her with another slow kiss and a gentle bite on her thigh.

“Yes,” he murmured.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, sounding like a never-ending echo of “yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Then he built her again. Her legs were spread as wide as they would go. Everything in her was liquid pulse, beating to his stroke. Inside and out, he played her. Rubbing, pushing, spreading, and even thrusting with his hand.

Then she felt him lean in. His thumb moved away from her clit and was replaced by his tongue. Slow. Gentle. He dropped the tension back down again until she was mindless with need.

“Carl!” she gasped.

“Say yes for me,” he said as he did a slow lick all around her clit.

“Yes.”

He sucked. One strong pull right on her peak.

Detonation!

And it went on and on and on.

She was still riding those marvelous waves when she heard someone come into the house. The bedroom door was shut and her pulse was still loud in her ears, but some sounds were hard to ignore. Especially when she heard Alan call out, panic in his voice.

“Carl? Carl! Are you all right?”

“I'm fine!” Carl barked from between her legs. “Don't come in!”

If she weren't still high from the best orgasms of her life, she probably would have been embarrassed. As it was, she just started chuckling. Though she did manage to drop her arm across her face to muffle the sound.

“Where are you? Tonya's been calling.”

Carl abruptly left his position to dive at the door, clicking the lock a second before Alan's footsteps sounded outside the room. “I told you,” Carl said. “Don't come in.”

“Tonya is on her way over. She got an ID. Where's Becca?”

Her giggling abruptly stopped the moment she heard the word “ID.” But when she straightened up on her elbows to answer, Carl shot her a desperate look and shook his head. She immediately swallowed her words, but that didn't stop the slow sink in her gut. Was he ashamed? Embarrassed to be caught blowing off steam in the middle of a crisis?

Meanwhile, Carl gestured to the bathroom, by which she guessed that he wanted her to go in there. “She's taking a shower. I'll be out in a second. Who was the ID?”

“Don't know except that they're getting warrants and coordinating with ATF.”

ATF? As in the scary governmental agency the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives? The one that took out the wackos in Waco?

“She'll be here in twenty.” Alan tried the doorknob. “Damn it, Carl, are you hurt?”

“Not in the least,” he said with a grin. But then he quickly sobered as he helped Becca sit up. He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “Can you shower fast? I'm going to have to step in behind you.”

Her eyes widened but she nodded. Then he practically lifted her up to her feet—aka weak noodles—and carried her into the bathroom as if she were the queen of England with broken legs. Then he bent down to her ear again.

“I'll explain later,” he whispered. Then he paused as if to linger. She would have leaned into him. She was still rosy with afterglow, but he abruptly stepped back. “Quickly,” he said as he gestured to the shower.

Yeah, yeah. She got it. She looked like she'd just been fucked to heaven and back. Which she had. But he didn't want others to know about it, and the more she thought about it, the more she agreed. She wasn't exactly sure what craziness had led her to dive into sexuality for the first time in years, but that was stress for you. At some point, it all had to blow somehow. Might as well be fun when it goes.

But there was no time to linger. She flipped on the shower and stepped in before it warmed. The shock of that was enough to chase away any remaining glow. Which meant that all too soon she was thinking about Theo and the ATF and all the horrible scenarios her imagination kept creating.

She showered in record time.

And when she stepped out, Carl was there handing her a towel. “There's fresh clothes for you on the bed,” he said in a low tone. It was almost enough to distract her from the fact that he was fully naked and hugely erect.

“Uh—” was all she got out before he leaned in and turned the tap to cold. Then he pulled on the shower and stepped right into the icy spray.

Well, if he didn't shrink up from that, he was one virile man.

Part of her wanted to stay and watch to see how long it would take. It was one of her longtime fantasies to see a fine man lather up. But that was just an indication of how far away from center she was. How could she even imagine doing something like that when Theo might be caught in the middle of an ATF battle?

She hurried out of the bathroom and was dressed a few minutes later in borrowed leggings and an oversize sweatshirt. A single whiff told her it was Carl's, and she buried her nose in it while she listened to the steady pound of the shower. Tonya wasn't here yet, so she had a moment to linger in
wow!
What they'd done—wow. The way he'd done it—wow. The fact that even now, her skin was still tingling from it—double wow.

Then she pulled on her shoes and left the bedroom, her mind already shoving the experience into a tiny little box labeled “What Becca Did to Blow Off Anxiety.” It had no other meaning, which is why she felt excruciatingly calm as she faced Alan, who was just coming out of the kitchen with a sandwich.

“When was the last time you slept?” she blurted. He looked awful, with sallow skin and baggy eyes. And for such a handsome man, that was saying something.

“About the last time you did,” he said, though it was obviously not true. She'd spent hours knocked unconscious. “Did Carl tell you? They got an ID on the guy that Carl killed.” The words rolled out of him, then he abruptly winced. “I mean the guy who attacked…er…”

“I get it. The bastard with the tranquilizer gun.”

“And a sawed-off shotgun. They found his motorcycle stashed in the trees. Matched the license with the dental records and voilà, ID.”

She nodded. “Who was it?”

Alan shrugged as he stuffed a badly done chicken salad sandwich into his mouth. She could smell the cheap mustard from across the room. “Tonya will be here in ten. She has all the details.”

Meanwhile Carl came out of his room, still towel-drying his hair. He had on jeans slung low on his hips and an unbuttoned flannel shirt, this one green. It set off his eyes, which distracted her from the kissable expanse of his muscled chest. “How's it going out there? What's the mood?” he asked his brother.

“Tense. Everyone knows about the attack. They're worried for Theo and anxious about…” He shrugged. “Everything.”

Meanwhile, Alan's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them while Becca did her best to keep a neutral expression. Nope, she hadn't just had a couple screaming Os while he was outside holding things together.

Carl tossed the towel into a basket by the door to the basement. It was overflowing with laundry, and his toss toppled a pile of shirts and socks onto the floor. Wow, these men needed a housekeeper badly. She was wondering if she had time to throw in a load—it was the least she could do—when Carl picked his phone off the counter and let out a low whistle.

“Okay, so ten calls from Tonya might be overkill.”

“We thought you'd had a seizure or something.”

“I was resting.” Wow, the way he said that made it sound possible…not. Even she knew Carl resisted anything related to rest.

Alan didn't look like he believed it either, but he decided not to comment. “Anything from the wolves?”