Return to Bear Bluff Complete Series

by Harmony Raines

  But now it was different. He looked at his foot, willing it to move again. The minutest of movement, a twitch, a sensation of any kind, he’d take anything rather than the complete nothingness he had grown used to. He knew his legs were still there, but they were lumps of useless meat. Or had been, now he knew he could move his foot, he just didn’t know how. Closing his eyes, he tried to recreate the surge of emotion he had experienced this morning when he wanted to comfort Skyla. It was impossible; those sensations had been dragged out of him by his need to help his mate, to comfort his mate. But she wasn’t here now. She wasn’t in danger.

  Jordan was sure that had been the trigger, the need to protect her from danger, real or perceived.

  Not wanting to accept defeat, he wheeled himself between the bars, raising his hands up to grip them. Then he hauled himself out of his wheel chair, and stood with his feet on the floor, his arms hooked over the bars. All he had to do was lift one foot, and place it down in front of him. And then rinse and repeat. Easy.

  “Come on,” he said to himself, willing his brain to send signals down his spine, and then along the nerve endings, telling his foot to move. Nothing. He tried the other foot, picturing it in his mind, but still nothing. Damn it, he wanted this so much, he wanted to cast off his wheelchair and walk out of this hospital, to be the man Skyla needed, the man she deserved.

  “Stupid legs,” he cursed, trying to exert his will on them, trying to make them move by thrusting the force of his brain into this one simple task. A task a two-year-old was capable of.

  He stopped, letting himself relax, trying to ease the tension in his muscles, not wanting that to be blocking the signals. Then he focused on how his legs should move if they responded. He imagined the muscles tightening, of them pulling his foot up off the ground, and then placing it forward. If he had moved once, he could move again; paralysis wasn’t like a car, his body surely could not have an intermittent fault. He could either move, or not, and he knew he could move.

  But he couldn’t. Mentally exhausted, his mood one of utter disappointment, he reached for his chair and slumped back into it.

  “There you are,” Skyla said from behind him. “I’ve looked everywhere for you.”

  “How long have you been there, watching?” he asked, accusingly.

  “Not long,” she said, approaching him.

  He looked up at her, trying to keep the bitterness from his eyes. She needed him; she didn’t need to drown with him in his ocean of self-pity. “How is your dad?”

  “Good. Better than expected. He’s resting, Dorothy is still with him. But they don’t want too many people with him in recovery, so I thought we could go and catch up on some sleep. She’ll call if there’s any change, and I’ll come back later this evening to see him. He’ll be more alert then.”

  “OK. I’ve made us reservations; the hotel is a five-minute drive away.” He wheeled his chair towards the door, but she caught it and moved to stand in front of him.

  “What you did… Just because it doesn’t work the first time, does not mean it’s never going to work.” She squatted down in front of him. “When we get home, the gym equipment will arrive and we can start your real therapy. At least that is one thing you need me for.”

  “I need you for more than that.” He wanted to kiss her, but the sense of failure still enveloped him, making him feel unworthy. With each attempt at normality, he seemed to slip back into depression, where he could happily shut out the world. But this was Skyla, his woman.

  She’d read his mind. Her hand stroked his cheek, fingertips rubbing over his stubble, and then her thumb brushed his lips, sending warm sensations flooding his body. Her lips hovered so close to his, he could feel a buzz of electricity passing between them.

  Then she pulled away. “Let’s go to the hotel.”

  His breathing ragged, he followed her out to the car, with visions in his head of what they would do when they were alone in the hotel room, with the rest of the world shut out.

  Chapter Seventeen – Skyla

  “This is nice,” Skyla said, as she heaved the two duffel bags onto the bed.

  “Here. You should eat.” They had stopped off on the way to the hotel at a small bakery and bought fresh pastries and coffee.

  “Thanks. I need something to give me an energy boost.”

  “I thought we were going to catch up on sleep?” he asked, a glint in his eye, she was relieved to see. When she had found him in the gym, trying to walk with the help of the bars, she had seen the disappointment on his face. But he’d let it go, and she was happy to see his usual good mood settling on him again.

  “We are. Later.” She took a bite of the still warm pastry and closed her eyes. “This is heaven.”

  “I have to agree.” He ate his, very quickly, and then sipped his coffee. “So many things I took for granted before my accident. You know I intend to make time each day to appreciate them.”

  “A gratitude list.” She shuffled along the bed to sit in front of him, her pastry finished now too. “You think of three things you are grateful for. Either write them down or say them out loud.”

  “Can the three things be all the same?” he asked, his head cocked on one side. “Does Skyla, Skyla, Skyla count?”

  “No. Now I see why you were in the Army. You’re the kind of man who needs very specific instructions.”

  He reached out for her and pulled her closer, his hand fisting her hair and dragging her head down so their lips met. Damn, his kisses would have to go on her gratitude list, every freakin’ day.

  He tasted of sweet pastries and coffee, his lips carrying a smattering of stickiness, but a heat that was all his own. Jordan cupped her left breast with his hand, and she knew her gratitude list was going to be hard to contain to three things today.

  Rubbing his thumb over the taut bud of her nipple, he sent her body into overdrive, the heat between her thighs grew in intensity, the edge of arousal she’d sat on every day since she’d met him kicked up a notch, remembering the way he had made her come last night. She wanted more, she wanted to give him more.

  Was there a way she could satisfy him? Would he be able to feel her touch on his cock?

  This was one experiment that was definitely not on the approved list for a paralyzed man. But maybe it would work.

  Her hand slipped down to caress his thigh, she felt him tense. He knew her hand was there, but could he feel it? She didn’t ask, she continued to stroke him, working higher, her aim true as she closed her hand over his cock. He didn’t harden, but then he was still fully clothed.

  “Want to get naked?” she asked.

  “Skyla, I…”

  She put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. I only asked if you want to get naked.”

  “Yes.”

  She got up off the bed, and moved so he could pull himself further across, and lie down. When he was stretched out on the bed, she moved to help him remove his shirt, kissing his skin as it was unveiled one button at a time.

  “You make me want you so much it hurts.”

  “Good. I want it to hurt, I want it to burn until you have no choice but to feel it through the whole of your body.” His shirt undone, he sat up and pulled it over his head, while her hands and lips moved lower to unbuckle his belt. She teased him, her fingers stroking him, willing him to feel her touch. A groan made her believe he did.

  Belt undone, she pulled his zipper down, then tugged the fabric of his jeans, dragging them down over his thighs, and off his feet, to discard them on the floor. Her eyes captured his, and she was sure he was fighting the urge to cover himself from her gaze.

  “I’ve seen it all before,” she said, her hands starting at his feet, and stroking, while her lips kissed him, moving higher and higher until she touched his cock, feeling the silky skin. “But you have to be the most impressive.”

  He choked back a laugh. “I was. Once, but not now.”

  “Then why don’t I see if I can return you to your former glory?” She sighed as
she breathed her warm breath over his skin.

  “Take your clothes off first.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do.”

  She stood up and pulled her sweater over her head, and then the T-shirt she had hastily put on hours ago when they had begun their dash to her dad’s bedside. Her jeans soon followed, until she stood in only her underwear.

  “And the rest,” he said, watching her.

  “I might need your help,” she said, coming back to the bed, and climbing on, straddling him, her knees either side of his thighs.

  Jordan pushed himself up so he sat with his chest pressed against her breasts. “I can help you with this.” His hands quickly unclasped her bra, and he threw it aside as if to say she would never need it again. “Oh my.” His breath covered her skin, and he lowered his head to kiss the tips of her nipples, one at a time. The heat between her thighs grew, and the ache inside her was incredibly raw and needy.

  Sucking her right nipple into his mouth, he massaged her left breast with his hand, his fingers tweaking the taut bud, making her writhe in ecstasy. His right hand slipped between their bodies and he rubbed her clit, before his finger slid inside her panties and into her wet sex.

  This was heaven. He drove her wild, her hips bucking as he pressed two fingers deep inside her, his thumb brushing her clit, while his mouth nursed on her breasts. Her orgasm was so close, and he chased it down with her, making her come, her body a writhing mass of sensations, until it was too much and she exploded.

  “Fuck,” she said, when she was spent. Skyla clung to him, her arms around his neck as if he was her anchor, while she tried to get her breathing back to something close to normal.

  “I wish I could.” He laughed bitterly.

  “Then let’s see if you can.” She slid her body back, until she was resting on his legs, her head over his cock. She blew on it, watching for any sign of him being able to sense her. Nothing. Looking up at him, he saw her watching him intently. Skyla had never wanted anything to work so much in her whole life.

  Lowering her head, she took his cock in her hand, and then covered the head with her mouth. He groaned, whether because he could imagine what it felt like, or whether the feeling was real, she didn’t know and she wasn’t stopping to ask him.

  She eased his thighs apart, to allow her right hand to slip around his balls. Cupping them, she fondled them, trying to stimulate him in every way. His seed was still stored in them, the blood still flowed though him; she just had to hit the right trigger.

  Grazing her teeth along his length, she was sure she felt a twitch of his thighs, but she couldn’t be sure. Taking him in her mouth again, she sucked the head of his flaccid cock, he was bigger, she was sure he was. Working harder, she stroked and sucked, fondled and grazed, until she was sure he was getting hard.

  Lifting her face to watch his, she saw the expectant expression hadn’t changed. If he really was getting hard, he couldn’t feel it. Skyla hesitated, unsure of herself.

  “Don’t stop,” he ground out.

  “Can you feel me touching you?” she asked, hope filling her voice and her heart.

  “No. I don’t think so. But I can see you moving, I can imagine what it feels like.” His face was contorted in anguish. “But if you don’t want to…”

  “No. I do. I just don’t want you to feel as if I’m taking advantage of you.”

  He laughed. “Damn it, Skyla, I want you to make love to me. I want to…” His voice was ragged. “I wish I could make love to you.”

  “You already have, Jordan. Before… It might not have been in the usual sense, but you made me come, your hands, your mouth.”

  “But the rest of it. Any hope of a child...”

  “We can think about that in the future. There are ways.” Her hand grasped him firmly, and she was sure now he was harder. “Are you sure, if we can… Are you sure you want to have sex?”

  “I’m a man, sex is on my mind all the time, right?” His smile was crooked.

  “All man,” she agreed, kissing his stomach, sensing him tense, then she moved lower, nipping and kissing his skin, trying to feel where the sensations ended, but she couldn’t tell, or they didn’t end, but she wasn’t going to ask and risk breaking the spell between them.

  And it was as if someone had cast a spell, a spell that brought him to life, or at least his need for sex. Typical, but she’d go with it. As he hardened in her hand, his cock swelling, slowly, but growing bigger and bigger with each stroke of her hand, she risked it all.

  Moving forward, she lifted herself up, and when she was sure he was hard enough, she lowered herself down, while guiding the head of his cock inside her. It felt so good, she’d told him his fingers and mouth were enough, but to feel him filling her, feel the friction between their bodies, was something else.

  Jordan groaned, his hands on her hips, guiding her as he slid deeper inside her, his cock swelling as she rocked her body.

  Skyla placed her hands over his, and together they began to move, guiding each other, as she lifted her body up, and then slid down to impale herself on his hardness. Jordan guided her in a circular motion, his cock stretching her inner walls, stimulating her until her climax became an unstoppable beast. She wanted to come, she needed to come, but she held on as long as she could, wanting him to come inside her, to fill her with his seed, so that one day they may make a child.

  She tried not to care if it was this time, because with this one small step forward, it gave her hope there would be a next time, and a next. That one day he might feel something, might experience what she was feeling.

  “I need to come,” she said breathlessly, her head thrown back, small whimpering cries escaping her mouth as she rode him.

  Jordan moved his right hand off her hip, and pressed his fingers against her clit. Her hips bucked, her sex clamping down on his cock, pulsing as her orgasm reached her and took her into the abyss.

  Skyla ground down on him, rocking her body backwards and forwards, the strength of her orgasm building until it consumed her. Then he exploded inside her. She felt it, his seed, his essence, spurting deep inside her. She didn’t stop, didn’t change the way she moved, not wanting to change anything that might upset the delicate balance of this miracle.

  And it was a miracle. A miracle she intended to keep to herself, because when she looked down at Jordan, she was sure he had no idea what his body was doing, and she didn’t want to get his hopes up that they might conceive a child. Not yet.

  When her orgasm subsided, she slipped down into his arms, and he held her close, kissing her head, whispering the sweetest words to her.

  “I love you, Jordan.”

  I love you, Skyla.”

  She stroked his bristly cheek and then kissed him softly, before falling asleep with the man of her dreams.

  Chapter Eighteen – Jordan

  His dreams in the few hours’ sleep he managed to snatch were confusing, different in a way his conscious brain couldn’t break down, as he lay looking up at the ceiling, while Skyla slept peacefully beside him.

  The dream had been about his bear, but it wasn’t the human Jordan doing the searching, it was his bear. Calling, roaring into the emptiness of his head. Lost.

  A tremor passed through Jordan, the thread of realization thin, but it pulled him nonetheless towards the truth. They were separated, lost, each in their own world or dimension; who knew how this thing worked? But he did know his idea of how to reunite them might just work.

  “Hello,” Skyla said, turning over in the bed to look at him. “Are you OK?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her lips. “We should get dressed and go back to the hospital.”

  “Good idea.” She didn’t move. “Although I like being here with you just like this.”

  “When we get home, there’s plenty of time for lying in bed all day. Right now, we need to make sure your dad’s OK, and your stepmom too.”

  “I know. I’m going to give her a call and see if there’s anyt
hing we need to take her. Food, clean clothes. Or maybe she could go home for a few hours and I’ll sit with my dad.”

  “That’s a good idea. Come on.” He wished he could jump out of bed and shower and dress with no effort. Those kind of thoughts were not going to sour what had been an amazing experience. He had made love to Skyla, or at least she had made love to him. He was a modern man, he could accept that, although he was already trying to work out how they could try different positions, and he had come up with some interesting ideas. But they were all for when they got home.

  Her family was what was important now. Jordan made do with pulling on his jeans, hauling himself into his wheelchair, and heading for the bathroom, as soon as Skyla had finished in there.

  Kissing him on the cheek, she smelled of shampoo and soap from the quick shower she’d taken. “That must be a record for the fastest shower by a woman,” he teased.

  “I am not your usual kind of woman,” she agreed. “Plus, I want to see my dad.”

  “I’ll be quick, I can shower when we come back here later.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, opening her duffel bag and rummaging through it.

  “Absolutely.” He hurried—as much as a man in a wheelchair could hurry, when the bathroom wasn’t exactly designed for one—and was out and dressed in ten minutes.

  “Right, let’s go.” Skyla had her purse hooked over her shoulder, and wore a dark blue skirt that flattered her full hips, and a white shirt, over which she pulled on a pretty dusky-pink cardigan. She looked beautiful, her auburn hair still damp and hanging around her shoulders, and the light makeup natural. “Jordan.”

  “Sorry, I was just reminding myself of all the ways in which I have been blessed. I got to more than three reasons to be grateful.” He sighed. “But they all revolve around you.”