Bear Necessities (Bad Boy Alphas): A Post-Apocalyptic Bear Shifter Romance

by Selena Kitt

  She clung to him when it was over, unable and unwilling to let him go—and he didn’t ask her to. Above their heads, the sun filtered through the leaves, dappling their arms and their faces, wet with perspiration. Ivy kissed his shoulders, his collarbone, nuzzled the wiry softness of his beard, breathing him in.

  Caleb took a step away from the tree, sliding slowly out of her, and she straightened to look at him, wondering if he could see the fear in her eyes, the doubt. She couldn’t help thinking, this is the part where he leaves. This is the part where I give the ring back and he tells me I was stupid to think he wanted anything else except to use me for some momentary warmth and comfort.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, quickly divesting himself of the rest of his clothes and giving her a smile as he led her a little further down the path. There was a pine tree there, and a bed of needles long shed, on the forest floor. He stretched out on his back, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen or ever would see, she thought, since it was kind of the end of the world and who knows, he might actually be the last man on earth…

  She stood, hugging herself, shivering, just looking at him.

  “Ivy?” He held one big hand out to her, cocking his head and giving her a puzzled half-smile. “Come.”

  “Do you mean it?” she whispered, feeling tears stinging her eyes, sticking her chin out and blinking them back, fast. “I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t—”

  “Don’t make me chase you.” There was blue fire in his eyes. “I will, if you want me to. I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth until you really believe I want to catch you, if that’s what it takes. But I’d rather you just come here and let me keep you warm.”

  Ivy went to him, still wondering if this was just a temporary thing, if he wanted her just because she happened to be the last piece of ass left on earth. That would be her luck, she thought, as she let him pull her on top of him.

  And then Caleb was holding her and murmuring her name and kissing her, and somehow, all her doubts evaporated in the heat of his mouth on hers.

  Chapter 10—Caleb

  Ivy stirred in his arms, readjusting her position so that none of her was touching the forest floor underneath—she was entirely on him, completely enveloped in his arms, and Caleb didn’t want to ever let her go. He breathed in her scent, reveling in it. It had filled him for days, lingering everywhere. Living with her in such close quarters and keeping his paws off her had been the hardest challenge he’d ever had to face.

  What she’d told him about Vaughn, it had been the proverbial last straw.

  Fucking Vaughn.

  He shouldn’t have been surprised—but he was. At first, he thought it must be some strange coincidence—another asshole with a similar name. But no—when she’d mentioned “Cricket,” Caleb knew it had to be him. She was right—Michigan’s upper peninsula might not be densely populated, but it was a very small world.

  Ivy relayed her self-deprecating story with such cavalier humor, and yet—he’d seen the shame and self-doubt rising up in her eyes. It had filled him with such a powerful rage, his urge to shift had been nearly uncontrollable. If he’d still been a young teen, he probably would have. It was only years of discipline that stopped him

  What Vaughn had done to this woman—his woman—was unforgivable.

  As if he didn’t have enough reason to want to kill him? Now this?

  Caleb couldn’t stand it. He’d taken one look at the hurt buried in her eyes and had to tell her how beautiful she was, how incredible, what a fool Vaughn had been to let this woman go. Not just tell her, but show her.

  Of course, it hadn’t been all completely selfless.

  He'd been holding himself back, waiting for her to be ready, since the moment he first scented her. He’d known, instantly, that she was meant to be his, would be his. In due course. He’d certainly intended to hold off longer than a week—he wasn’t sure, when he’d grabbed her to him and kissed her—that she really was ready for him. He felt her fear, still, her hesitation.

  But then she’d kissed him, and there was no way he could hold back any longer.

  He had to have her.

  Just thinking about it made his cock throb and he felt himself stirring. Strangely, having her hadn’t eased his desire in the least. His body ached for her, even when she was in his arms. He wanted more of her. Caleb kissed the top of her head and she sighed happily, her arms tightening about his neck.

  “You all right?” he asked, running his hands over the creamy swell of her flesh. She was so delectable; he could have eaten her with a spoon. Although, truth be told, he preferred to use his tongue. His mouth watered just thinking about it. He could still taste her, smell her on his beard. “Cold?”

  “I’m perfect.”

  “Yes, you are.” Her response made him smile up at the sunshine coming through the leaves. It had been a long time since he’d felt this good, this whole.

  “Stop making me blush.” She tugged at his chest hair, nipping his flesh with perfect white teeth. He wanted to take her again, and he would—in every conceivable position. The possibilities were endless and they all delighted him.

  “I like that color on you.” He grinned, touching that flush with one finger, tracing the curve of her cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful, it hurts my heart.”

  “Caleb!” She nipped at him again, harder this time, high color moving even higher. “Don’t make me punch you.”

  “Go ahead.” His grin widened and he shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I can take it.”

  “I’m stronger than I look, remember?” Her eyes narrowed at him, cat-like, and she raised a clench fist to shake it at him. “I could beat you up.”

  “You could beat me black and blue with just a word, shortcake,” he told her softly, honestly, feeling the truth of it in his chest. The power this woman had over him scared him more than he’d ever been, whether he was facing some perceived enemy on foreign soil, or hungry, ferocious ones in his own territory. “That’s how fucking gone I am on you.”

  “This is crazy.” Ivy’s lip—that sweet, kissable lower lip—trembled as she spoke and she blinked fast at him, like she was trying to keep tears back again. He’d seen her look like that before, but he had a feeling these weren’t tears of sadness. He had wanted to believe she felt it, too, and now he thought, perhaps, she really did.

  “Mm hmm.” He nodded his agreement, moving a hand through her hair, silk strands curling around his fingers. “Love in the apocalypse. What could be crazier?”

  “Did you say…” She narrowed her gaze at him again. Such a suspicious little thing. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me.” He used her hair to pull her head back, nibbling at the soft flesh of her neck. The sound of her moan shot through him like lightning, his cock rising to half-mast in an instant. “What? Too fast?”

  “My head is spinning,” she admitted, but her hand was on him—oh fuck, that’s so good—slowly stroking.

  “Time is precious,” he reminded her, his tongue flicking wetly at her nipple. It pursed prettily for him. “We should make the most of it.”

  “Oh God, yes,” she cried as he grabbed her hips and positioned her just where he wanted her.

  She was all softness and light. Caleb slid up inside of her and it was like fucking sunshine. The heat of her was incredible, enveloping him. The rock and squeeze, her little cries of pleasure, made his blood sing. He dug his fingers deep into her flesh, liking the way she hissed and wiggled and squirmed—but didn’t ask him to stop.

  When she leaned in to kiss him, biting at his lower lip, raking her fingernails over his shoulders, he dug his fingers deeper into her hips and thrust her up to the sky. Ivy clung to him—that’s my Ivy, she clings—and rode him harder, meeting him, matching him, as he knew she would the moment their eyes first met. How he had lived his whole life without this woman in it, he had no idea. He couldn’t imagine not having this, not having her.

  His hands roamed over the generous swell
of her hips, fingers dancing in at the hourglass curve of her waist before reaching the heavy, glorious weight of her breasts. They filled his great big hands and spilled over, divinely fleshy and ripe. Her nipples turned to pebbles under his fingers, sweetly sensitive, each tug and twist and pull eliciting a rising cry from her pretty throat.

  Caleb slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her mouth to his, quieting her cries for a moment with the hot, steady stroke of his tongue, matching the incessant thrust of his cock deep into her clutching wetness. So fucking hot and wet for him. Her womb trembled and contracted and he felt every spasm. She was going to come for him, all over him.

  Fuck.

  This woman owned him, body and soul.

  “Tell me,” he growled, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her back so he could see her eyes. They were dark and dazed with desire. She was so close, his sweet, clinging Ivy, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, her thighs soft, open, quivering at his hips as he slowed his pace, just enough to keep her on the edge.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, feeling the hot pant of her breath on his face. “Tell me!”

  “Yes,” she breathed, and there were those tears again, and this time they spilled down her cheeks and fell onto his chest. “Yes, Caleb, yes, I’m yours. Please, make me yours.”

  There was no more holding back, no more hesitation in him.

  He gave into what was right, perfect, whole. She made him that.

  Caleb let out a roar that shook them both, impaling her again and again with his length, hearing her whimpers and cries move to screams that echoed, bouncing off the canopy of the trees overhead as she climaxed around his shaft. He watched her tremble and shiver, her mouth a perfect “o” of pleasure, the sight of her like a goddess, something divine made flesh just for him, trying so hard to hold back.

  “Please,” Ivy whispered, her eyes fluttering open to look at him, seeing him more fully than he’d ever been seen before. She didn’t just see him, the man she was joining with, the shifter mate that had been divinely chosen for her in a time out of time—he felt like she was looking past all of that, at the very center of what made Caleb who he was.

  She not only saw it, she reached into him and touched it—raw and beating and alive for the first time, because of her.

  “Ivy,” he whispered hoarsely against the plump press of her lips.

  “Fill me,” she whispered back, her eyelashes tickling his cheek, the muscles of her sex still quivering with her pleasure. “Please, Caleb. Make me yours.”

  He moaned and wrapped his arms around her and came up inside her with a force that threatened to end him. A roar of pleasure and release tore from his throat as he fucked her to the sky and back again, forcing himself so deeply up inside of her he was afraid, for a moment, when he felt her shaking with emotion against him and saw tears on her cheeks.

  “Ivy, Ivy,” he whispered, cradling her against him. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes,” she cried, but the tears didn’t stop. In fact, they increased in intensity and she sobbed into his shoulder and neck. He held her close, lending whatever comfort he could, but when she lifted her face to look at him, she was smiling—laughing.

  “I love you.” He said the words, knowing they might scare her off—like his bear had sent her running through the woods. But he also knew he would pursue her, regardless. He knew it was right, that this was the very thing he had come into the world to find.

  This time, Ivy didn’t run. She tucked her head under his chin and stayed. He felt so filled with love and pride, he could have burst from it.

  His Ivy. She had wound her way around him, into him, through him. He was hers, and he would keep her close—and safe—for the rest of their lives.

  “Caleb?” she murmured, sounding kind of sleepy and far away. He knew the feeling. She made him forget everything else.

  “Hm?”

  “How do you know they’re still there?”

  This again. He bit back a sigh. He was going to have to tell her. Or show her. Probably both. And what then? If he thought she would run away from whispered words of devotion, what would she do when she found out her new man could turn into a giant black bear at will?

  “I think we need a plan.” Her head came up so she could look at him. Her hair was a dark, disheveled cloud, little sticks and leaves and pine needles stuck in it. He liked her messy. “There are plenty of rifles in the bunker. We can do… what do the Marines call it? Reconnaissance? Find out how many there are. Then we can make a plan to eliminate them—”

  “Ivy.” He couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face. “You’re smart—and you’re brave. But there are a dozen men in your house, and only two of us. Even if we both go in, guns blazing, we’d be no match for them.”

  “Well… balls.” She sighed, rolling off him onto the forest floor.

  “Where you going?” he asked as she stood and stretched. Just the sight of her, gloriously naked, made him want her again.

  “Unless I’m mistaken, that’s my bucket over there—I’m going to fill it with strawberries. I’m assuming that was your master plan?”

  He grinned, nodding, glad that this revelation, at least, seemed to distract her from the topic at hand as she walked back along the path, picking up her clothes along the way.

  “You coming, Mr. Lazy?” Ivy called. She was mostly dressed now, picking her way through the trees, heading toward the wild strawberries that grew in a patch of sunshine in a clearing.

  He’d brought her to the very place they’d first met—not that she knew it. The shack where she thought she’d encountered him for the first time was just over the ridge. He watched her walking, assessing—her ankle seemed eighty-five percent better. Another few days, she wouldn’t have a limp. A week, and it would be healed.

  Then he would consider moving on. Ivy wouldn’t want to go—but Jonah was out there, and Caleb was determined to find him, if he could. They’d grown up as cubs near Copper Harbor, and while he hadn’t found him at their old stomping grounds, there were other places where he could be holed up that he hadn’t checked yet.

  It had taken him nearly two years of tracking, but he was closer than he’d ever been before. That day Ivy had lost her dog—he had been sure he could smell the faint scent of his brother’s musk at her place. He’d wondered if maybe Jonah had scared Vaughn and his men off that day—leaving Ivy’s other farm animals untouched—or, more likely, they had scented and pursued him.

  He’d poked his head out of the bunker every day, sniffing the air, checking, just to be sure. Vaughn and his men were definitely still at the house, so they hadn’t found Jonah, or they would have likely moved on. Their desire for raw meat—preferably still living—was uncontrollable. There were still plenty of deer and small animals in the woods, but it wouldn’t placate them forever. What they really craved was human.

  “You’ve heard the story of the little red hen, right?” Ivy called over her shoulder to him. She was picking strawberries now, a good fifteen feet down the path, the bucket swinging on her arm. “She planted the seeds and grew the wheat and picked the wheat and ground the wheat and—”

  “I got it, I got it,” he replied, laughing and starting to rise. “No strawberry shortcake for me unless I help pick strawberries, eh?”

  “Get your cute ass over here, mister,” she giggled back.

  “I gotta take a piss.”

  “Excuses, excuses,” she scoffed.

  Grinning, Caleb stepped behind a birch tree—the one he was quite fondly remembering fucking her against—to relieve himself. He was very much looking forward to “helping” her pick berries—and smearing strawberry juice all over her and licking it off. His cock stiffened in his hand, just thinking about it, making it difficult to urinate. The woman made him think constantly about having her. He’d thought, from the very beginning, that she was a damnable distraction, and it was true.

  And he wouldn’t have it any other way, he th
ought, smiling as he finally was able to let go a stream of urine against the white side of the birch. He’d just finished and was turning to find his clothes when Ivy let out a scream. His heart dropped to his stomach when she screamed again, this time just one word—“Bear!”

  It was, he saw as he ran around the side of the tree—a black bear, now charging toward her, jaws open, roaring. And behind her—the man Ivy hadn’t yet seen, the one who posed far more danger to her than the bear.

  Chapter 11—Ivy

  The bear came after her full tilt, and she had only a moment to think, just my luck—I find the perfect man and that’s the day I get killed by a freakin’ bear.