“Did he beat you?” Steph asked.
Dylan laughed. “Never, although I’m sure there are plenty in town who said if he had taken his belt to me, then I wouldn’t have turned out so bad.”
“And are you bad?” she asked, looking into his eyes, seeing the deep pools of warmth and emotion hidden in their depths. She wondered if she fell into those eyes whether she would be stuck forever, or if she would drown in them and return as a ghost of her former self.
“What do you think?” he asked, lifting his hand to reach out for hers. Then he let it drop into his lap, and his words of yesterday returned to Steph. If she wanted him, she was going to have to make the first move.
So she did.
“I think you want to be good.” She placed her hand over his, and lifted it up to her mouth, his palm facing her, and kissed the center of his palm, her tongue tracing a small circle there, round and round.
“I want to be very good to you, Stephanie.”
She released his hand and laughed. “My mom is the only person who calls me Stephanie. It makes me feel like a naughty child.”
“So what do I call you?” he asked, stroking her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing her lips, which she tried to catch with a kiss. Then she sucked it into her mouth, drawing it back out very slowly, while sucking hard enough for her cheeks to hollow.
“Steph will do.” She saw his eyelids grow heavy, and his breathing was ragged.
“Do you have any idea what is going through my mind right now?” he asked.
“I have some ideas,” she said, her voice husky, inviting him in. She hadn’t wanted anything this much since the Christmas when she was five and she wanted the doll all her friends had. It ate, and drank and peed. She didn’t get it; her dad said they couldn’t afford it. Her disappointment had been bitter, and then she had felt so ungrateful she never wished for anything so much in all her life. Until this moment.
Taking his hand, she placed it on her left breast. “This is what I want.”
His hand moved, massaging the soft flesh, his thumb brushing the hard nub of her nipple, and she squirmed, pressing her thighs together, needing some kind of release. This had been building since the moment her head had hit the pillow last night, and now he was here, he was real, and she wanted him. It was an admission she’d known, since she met Dylan, she would have to make eventually; she just hadn’t expected it to come quite so soon.
“Steph, are you sure? Yesterday you wanted nothing to do with me. Now you are throwing yourself at me. Not that I am complaining,” he added quickly.
“I have so much work to do, but I don’t think I can concentrate on a thing until I’ve …”
“Come,” he finished.
She nodded, acutely embarrassed to admit this to him. He was right: she was throwing herself at him. Any minute now she was going to strip off her clothes, and lay him down on his back, straddle him and fuck him hard and fast.
Although it was not exactly how she had wanted her first time with her mate to be. In her teens, when she understood more what it was to have a mate, she had dreamed of him laying her down on the bed, and of making love to her slowly, considerately, and completely.
He leaned into her, tilting her face to his and kissing her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, teasing her with a steady rhythm that drove her wild. His fingers began to undo the buttons of her shirt, one at a time, until he could push her shirt off her shoulders and then unclasp her bra.
Shifting his attention to her breasts, he cupped her right breast in his hand and kissed the soft flesh, working his way irresistibly towards the taut bud that became the center of her world when his mouth clamped over it, his tongue mimicking the same motion she had used on the palm of his hand.
She cradled his head, her hands in his hair, lips on his cheek, kissing him softly, until she had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop herself crying out when his teeth grazed her nipple, sending a jolt of exquisite pain through her body.
His free hand slid along her thigh, before dipping to between them and she moved her thighs further apart, allowing him to rub her clit, to pinch her there, through the fabric of her worn work jeans. But she needed more.
“Fuck me, Dylan,” she whispered in his ear.
He lifted his head, studying her face. She saw uncertainty there, and she didn’t know why. All she did know was that she would internally combust if he didn’t take her. To drive her point home, she placed her hand in his lap and cupped his cock in her hand, squeezing him, massaging his already hardened length. He groaned. “You are a temptress,” he said hoarsely.
His fingers were on the buttons of her jeans; then her jeans and panties were being dragged off her thighs. She took her feet out, one at a time, and he cast them aside.
“Lie down.”
She did as he asked, spreading her thighs wider when she felt the pressure of his hands on her knees. Steph was ready for him. She ached in her core; all she could think of was the need to come, to let the pressure building inside her go, to let it fly free up into the morning air to mingle with the fluffy clouds.
His mouth covered her clit, his tongue flicking over it, confusing her senses. She had expected him to penetrate her, to fill her with his wonderful cock. But Dylan had different plans, equally enjoyable, for Steph anyway. One finger, then two pushed inside her, stretching her inner walls, stroking them, until he hit the spot where she was most sensitive. Sucking and licking her clit at the same time, her orgasm was assured. Higher and higher she rose, and then the stars seemed to be out in the day, small pinpricks of light exploding in her mind, and her sex gripped his fingers, as they worked frantically inside her to ride her orgasm out until she was completely spent.
Confused, she lay with her arm over her face, blinking away tears of emotion. Beside her, Dylan moved to lie down and pulled her into his arms.
“When I claim you, I want it to be more than a physical release.”
His words were simple and true. She turned her head and stroked his face, before kissing his lips lightly.
“You are a good man, Dylan Taylor.”
Chapter Eight – Dylan
“I suppose we had better go and start work,” Dylan said, stretching his body before kissing Steph one last time. If they could stay here together in the mountains, away from life and people, he would be happy. But they couldn’t. The farm needed to be brought back to its original glory, and his grandpa needed him.
Last night he had seen just how frail the old man was becoming. When Dylan was younger, his grandpa was his hero, able to lift a truck with his own two hands; now he struggled to lift a pan of boiling water. He had arthritis in his fingers, and needed help with more things than he cared to admit.
Dylan had come out here this morning to try to work out exactly what he was going to do with his life. Coming back to Bear Bluff was only supposed to be temporary, a couple of weeks of freedom to make some big decisions, but none of those decisions had involved moving back here permanently. He had been given a substantial offer for his construction business, but he hadn’t taken it, out of fear of having nothing to occupy himself with. The business had become his life, both social and professional. What would he be without those things he had built up to be a crutch, to make up for other things he lacked, things he had given up when Greg Franks died?
His old haunts beckoned now, and he had a life here with Steph to work out. Moving back in with Grandpa was out of the question when he married Steph, the cabin was too small, but he could maybe renovate one of the old barns and live next door. Far enough for the old guy to keep his independence, but close enough that he only had to pick up the phone, or holler loudly, and someone would be there to help him.
“Are you coming?” Steph asked.
Dylan had been so caught up in plans for the future he had missed Steph getting up and dressing; pity, he liked to watch her move.
“I was planning our future,” he said, as he took her hand and they began the long walk back to
reality.
“Presumptuous of you,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just because you know how to treat my body, does not mean I’m willing to shack up with you.”
He laughed. “Shack up with me.”
“That’s about all we’ll be able to afford. I’m not going to be earning anything from the B&B; all the money is going back into improvements. And we can’t live there.”
“I could share your room,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder and holding her close as they threaded their way through the trees.
“My room is in the attic; you would have to fold yourself in two to fit in there.”
“I’m only interested in lying in the bed.”
“Single bed,” she corrected.
“We could take it in turns to be on top,” he joked. This would be the right time to tell her about his money, and how he could buy her the biggest house in Bear Bluff, and still have more than enough to live on for the rest of their lives.
“No, if we move out, it means my mom can use the attic as a storeroom. She can keep all the spare bedding up there.”
“If I didn’t know you better, Stephanie Summerfield, I would think you were doing your damnedest to leave home.”
“Again,” she said with a laugh. “The farm stopped being my home some time ago. And anyway, we’ll want kids.”
“Yes, we will,” he said.
“And raise them to be happy and well-behaved,” she said, sneaking him a sly look.
“I’m guessing the well-behaved was aimed at me. But I was happy, weren’t you?” They were descending below the tree line; the morning sun was high in the sky, its heat warming them. He stopped, and they stood together, admiring the town below them.
“I used to think I was. But when I look back, I realize I hated the way my dad spoke to my mom. I used to wish that just once she would answer him back. But she knew her place.”
“She’s a shifter too, right?” he asked, and they began to traverse the last part of the path. It was rocky in places, and small stones scooted down the path in front of them. “This is so much easier on four paws.”
He squeezed Steph’s hand; she had gone quiet. “No, a human. Which is good, because my dad died so young, she would have had a horrible life pining for him. But, you know, you might be onto something. You think that is why my father used to dominate her, because she wasn’t a shifter?”
“It could be. Our other side makes us part of who we are. They may have a more dominant gene in them. In the same way some bears are more dominant than others. Which is why your brother is like your dad.”
“I suppose. Maybe that’s why I was never content to let them treat me the same way.”
“Pity, I would have liked to have a little wife at home I could dominate.” He ducked when she went to hit him, breaking free from her and shifting into his bear to run headlong down towards the Summerfield Farm, with Steph hot on his heels.
Reaching the lower slopes, he shifted back into his human form, waiting for her. When she reached him, she turned back to her human form, and before she could say a word, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
When he pulled back from her, she was breathless, and he whispered, “I’m sorry, that was a poor joke. You don’t know how happy I am to have a bear as my mate. Someone who can appreciate the finer things in life, like fresh wild honey.”
“I just feel sad, about my mom. I want her to be happy. Now my brother and my dad aren’t around, she might learn to stand up for herself.”
“At least she doesn’t have to worry about you bossing her around.”
“No. That problem only belongs to you. Now stop yammering and get to work,” she said, striding out across the meadow, through the small herd of cattle, and towards the stack of timber they had unloaded yesterday.
He watched her go. “Yammering?” He smiled, took a deep breath of air, and jogged to catch her up. “I do not yammer.”
She just smiled, and he found he liked that smile a lot. If he woke up with her smiling down on him every morning, he would think he was in heaven.
Chapter Nine – Steph
The work was so much easier with him helping. She got more than twice the amount of wood on the barn replaced as she would on her own, and the job was neater; he knew what he was doing. More than that, he gave her ideas she would not have thought of. Like an outdoor decking area, with a hot tub: he pinpointed the exact place where they should situate it, and that was where they were now sitting, drinking one beer, before he went home to his grandpa’s.
He’d positioned their lawn chairs so they gazed out over the lower meadow, towards the lake. “As the moon rises, it will reflect off the water and look amazing. This will be a huge selling point.”
“Hot tubs. Who would have thought?” Her mom was sat with them, actually drinking a beer and smiling.
Steph reached out and touched her hand. “And when we don’t have any guests, we can sit in it and admire the view.”
“I like the sound of that,” Dylan said.
“And who said you would be invited?” Steph asked.
He grinned. “I can see I’m outnumbered.” He took a big gulp of his beer. “And I should be getting home.”
“Are you sure you won’t stay to eat with us?” her mom asked. She liked Dylan, which earned him more brownie points with Steph.
“I can’t. I think Grandpa is making steak-and-ale pie. He’s gone into a cooking frenzy, which is good, because I’m not sure if he’s been feeding himself properly. He’s lost weight.”
“Getting old,” her mom said. “Happens to us all. Although in my case, I think I’m going the opposite way, and spreading out.”
“It looks good on you,” Steph said. “Makes you look more relaxed.” Steph got up to walk Dylan down to his bike. She bent down and kissed her mom on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
Her mom blushed. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Always trust your daughter, Kitty.” Dylan said, kissing her mom on the cheek too. “She’d never lie to you.”
“I know, she’s a good girl, and you are a lucky man.”
“So she tells me.” He dodged Steph as she tried to shove him playfully. “What? I’m trying to be the perfect guy.”
“Really? There I was thinking you were trying to put me in a bad mood.”
“Never. I want you to be happy. Whatever it takes. You want me to work on the barn, I’ll work on the barn; want a hot tub, I’ll build you a hot tub. Want an orgasm, I can give you one of those too.”
“Shh,” she said, looking back towards her mom, but Dylan had dropped his voice, and no one else could hear his words.
“I mean it, any time, day or night, just let me know and I will make you come.” He grabbed her, and pulled her behind the barn, where no one could see them. “I’m going to make sure I’m an expert in how your body works.”
He slipped his hand between her thighs, and stroked her clit, while his mouth claimed hers. They kissed, until her arousal was dangerously close to being at a point of no return. But she had made a decision, and aimed to stick to it. She pulled back and moved his hand away, very reluctantly.
“I decided I was going to abstain from orgasms too. Until you claim me. Or I claim you,” she said, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Equal rights. So no orgasms for you, no orgasm for me.”
“You are going to make yourself suffer, because I won’t make love to you?”
“No, I’m going to make you suffer,” she said. “You will have to live with the knowledge that you are causing me some discomfort and frustration.”
He laughed. “You are crazy.”
“Then take me. Make love to me. Right now.”
His eyes blazed, and he took her in his arms, and kissed her so fiercely her knees went weak. She clung to him, his tongue invading her mouth, entwining with her own tongue, before he pulled back with a groan.
“Soon,” he said.
“Why?” she asked. “You sai
d you would make love to me when I asked. Well, I’m asking.”
“Do you know what it’s going to be like when word gets around that I’m back? The Franks family still lives here, don’t they? Do you think they are going to be happy to know I’m back?”
“You’ve done your time. You stayed away, don’t you think people will accept that?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Would you? If the person you blamed for the death of your child came back to town, would you be OK with it?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it makes no difference. Not to me.”
“But it does to me. What if I choose to leave again? To make things right. What if I left and didn’t come back? Maybe that will have to be how I live for the rest of my life.”
“And your grandpa?” she asked, knowing how much the old man meant to him.
“I don’t know. I could move him into the town. But he wants to stay in the cabin, I know he does so his poor old bear can limp over the lower slopes when the moon is high.”
“I hate the whole thing, the way your life is controlled by one incident, one incident that you have to live with forever.”
“Someone died, Steph.”
“I know. But you won’t leave me?” she asked. “Promise you won’t just walk out of my life for ten years.”
“Never. Not unless you want me to.” He kissed her lips lightly. “And if you do, that will be much easier if we haven’t actually slept together.”
“Do you believe that?” she asked. “Don’t you feel the connection? Here.” She put her hand on his chest, covering his heart.
“With every beat,” he said. “Now, I have to go, or I will be eating burnt steak-and-ale pie, and my grandpa will be cross. And I want the old man to be happy, not feel stressed having to feed me. I’ve given him enough trouble and worry over the years.”
He kissed her and then turned away, putting on his helmet, straddling his bike and starting up his engine, while she looked on. With a wave of his hand, he throttled his bike forward and turned around to drive down the track, while she watched. A left turn took him out of view, but still she stood there, thinking over the day and how much had changed since she had gone out of the door this morning.
The Bear Is Back In Town: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Return To Bear Bluff Book 1) Page 4
