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Don't Judge a Bear by His Cover: (BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (Honeycomb Falls Book 6)

Page 6

by Cassie Wright


  "Ha. Well, I gathered as much from Soren's disapproval."

  "Right. So, I'm to be the alpha of the Claws. Which means my word is law. What I say goes, and if any of the others don't like it, they can challenge me for the position."

  I nod. That much makes sense.

  "So tomorrow morning I'm going to tell the Claws that we're giving up our turf up north. We're going to move to the Honeycomb Falls area, and we're going to start working to help the local food bank in distributing supplies to the poor and hungry."

  I just stare at him. His face is completely serious. "Ha. Ha ha ha. No, really, what's your plan?"

  Torben arches an eyebrow. "That's what I'm going to say. Krassok will immediately challenge me for the alpha position, and I'll fight him."

  "And lose on purpose?"

  "No," says Torben, voice turning grim. "I'll do my best to beat him. If the others get the feeling I threw the fight, that will invalidate Krassok's victory. Either he beats me fair and square, or I trounce him and remain alpha."

  "And then? The others will come south with you?"

  "No. A second will challenge me. And then a third, and a fourth if necessary, till I'm worn down and lose." Torben looks down at his massive hands. "It's as close to democracy as a clan can get. If enough of your numbers are against you, ultimately you will be defeated. That's why a true alpha can't lead by sheer strength alone."

  "But..." I crunch a wad of napkins in my hands. "Why? Why go through all this if you planned to lose the position to begin with?"

  Torben's smile turns wry and bitter. "I'm a Halderson. As long as I'm out there, the clan will refuse to completely accept a new leader. Krassok needs to defeat me to earn the complete trust and obedience of the others. Otherwise my name would always be thrown in his face."

  "Oh," I say. I look down at my hands. "This sounds like a really, really dangerous plan."

  "No kidding," says Torben, rubbing at his face. "That's why Soren was mad. But there's no other way. I won't be their alpha. And like you told me last night, they won't leave me alone. I can't deny my past. I have to deal with it. So I will."

  I don't know what to say. In the yellow light of the motel lamp, he looks so alone and lost. Brave and yet afraid at the same time. He's going to fight who knows how many vicious monsters tomorrow morning in order to earn his freedom. That anticipation has to be awful. I want to rise and move over to him, hold him, pull his head to my stomach and comfort him.

  His golden eyes meet mine, and my mouth goes dry. His need is so strong. I can feel him fighting the same desire. To just reach out, maybe, and take my hand, to feel my skin against his. It's easy to tell yourself that's where it would end. But I know, and he knows, that it would just open the floodgates. That one touch of skin would lead to fingers clasping, to arms encircling, to our lips meeting, and then the beast in him would take over and the primeval need in me would be unleashed and we would make love with burning urgency for hours and hours and...

  "I should go," whispers Torben, rising to his feet.

  I stand too. "Yes, OK." I want to beg him to stay. Come up with any pretext to delay his departure. Ask questions. About him, his family, anything. But I know that's just an attempt to keep alive the chance of our touching. Becoming intimate. Around Torben, I can't trust my impulses. My rationalizations.

  Torben moves to the door, and then hesitates. Hand on the knob, head down, I can see him wrestling with himself. Trying to force himself to open the door and step outside into the night. To not turn and reach out for me. And to my amazement, I realize that if he did that, right now, if he extended his hand to me, I'd take it. All my awareness and resolution feels like blades of grass in a hurricane. I've never heard my heart beat so loudly. Never been so aware of my skin, my nipples hard, my sex throbbing and so slick I'm going to need to change my panties.

  The moment stretches out. I can't breathe. I clutch the top of my chair in a death grip, holding on as if a vortex is trying to suck me away. Torben closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and then wrenches the door open. Two steps, and the door closes behind him.

  He's gone. I let out a whimper and sink into the chair. My heart is hammering. I feel lightheaded. Good god, this is powerful beyond anything I've ever felt before. This goes beyond chemistry, and right into the realm of sheer physical need.

  Why am I fighting it? Why is he? I can't even remember right now. I feel a keening sense of loss. I could be in his arms right now. His lips on mine, his cock rigid and hot in my hand. Instead I'm sitting here panting like a woman who has just narrowly avoided being struck by a car, adrenaline raging through my system, my whole body caught up in fight or flight mode.

  My hand steals down between my legs, and as I press my fingers against my pussy I feel a pulse of heat burn through me, an image of Torben's eyes hovering in the air before me. I bite my lower lip and think of his hands on my body. Pulling my clothing off, his body muscled and powerful and dominating my own.

  With a cry I stand up and hug myself tight, trying to control my hands. Never have I felt so unhinged. So out of control. That's not true. The old me was like this. Impulsive. Passionate. Driven by emotion and need and a desire to live deeply and truly. But that's what got me in trouble. That's what led me to this current predicament. I swore to never be that wild again. To never lose control.

  I pace. I wash my face with ice-cold water, and try to sit and meditate. Each time I still my thoughts, each time I begin to feel some measure of control, images slide in from the corners of my mind and play havoc with my concentration. I'm exhausted but I can't sleep. I finally turn off the lights and lie in bed, my whole body afire and trembling. I feel fevered. I can't stop thinking about the fact that he's only a few yards away, lying in a bed of his own on the other side of the wall.

  It's too easy to imagine slipping outside. Into the cold dark, to take a few steps to his door. To knock, a quiet sound that I know he'd hear. The door would open and there he would be, naked perhaps, his cock straining from the agony of an hour or more of just thinking of me. His eyes wide. Surprised. Hungry. Willing to be persuaded, to let me take the lead.

  I slide my hand down my stomach to cover the mound of my sex as I imagine pushing him back, my hand on his bare chest, and stepping into his room. He'd be hesitant, but my hand would curl around the shaft of his cock, sliding all the way down to the base before rising to the swollen head.

  I squeeze my breast and groan again, pinching my nipple as I imagine his cock. Large, thick, perfectly shaped and with a gorgeous crown. How would it feel to take him in my mouth? To kneel before him, that ripped body trembling minutely as he holds himself still, one hand cupping his balls as I hold his gaze, my tongue circling the head of his cock?

  I slide my fingers up and down my slit, circling my clit, tapping it and teasing it, knowing that I'm playing with fire. This fantasy would only take moments to become real. If I push myself too close to the edge, I'll lose all control. I'll lose all judgment. I'll allow myself to become a slave to a force I can't comprehend. Become a plaything in this shifter's world.

  But I can't stop. My fingers become more insistent, more demanding, and I can almost hear Torben's groans, can almost taste him. Why am I fighting this? He's a good man. Handsome. A lover of books. No, not handsome, panty-wetting hot. Why am I fighting this? With each stroke of my finger I find it harder to remember. God, I want him so bad. I want him inside me. I've had one night stands before. Would this be so different?

  I slide two fingers inside my pussy and arch my back as I imagine Torben's face between my legs. My fantasy loses all coherence and breaks down into a series of unconnected images and needs. His body. My breasts. His mouth, his lips, his tongue. His eyes, burning into my soul. Passion. Fucking like this is our last night on earth. Our bodies moving sinuously together, rhythmically, sweating and groaning and crying out, experiencing a kind of ecstasy I've never known before, and never will again.

  I can feel my orgasm approaching, like a wall of
water rolling toward the shore, a tsunami of pleasure that will wash away the last of my resolve. I have to stop. I have to stop. Moaning and biting my lower lip, I move my fingers faster and faster - and that's when I hear a quiet knock on my door.

  I stop, shivering, right on the brink of cumming. It's him. It's Torben. The last of my willpower flows away. He's come for me. I stand, my whole body vibrating with desire, and without hesitation, without fear, I unlock the door and open it.

  Chapter 10

  Hrald shoves the door wide open and steps in, reeking of cheap alcohol and with naked lust burning in his eyes. My fever dream snaps as I stumble back, replaced with cold, writhing fear like a slimy fish leaping within my chest. Before I can scream, before I can think, his large palm presses over my mouth, his other hand clasping the back of my head, and his face comes close to mine, his breath so pungent with booze that it makes my eyes water.

  "Shh-shh-shh," he whispers. "Quiet now, quiet. We wouldn't want to wake the neighbors, would we?"

  I scream against his palm, try to bite it, kick at him but he turns his hip to take the blow on his thigh and laughs, deep and throaty. "Oh, she's got a little fight in her," he growls, and with two more steps he forces me back so that we trip and fall on the bed.

  He's massive, a huge man like Torben, and his heavy body pins me easily to the hard mattress. I whip my head from side to side, trying to free my mouth, but then freeze when I feel cold steel against my neck.

  "Oh, yes," says Hrald, voice husky and strange. "You feel that? That's a little warning. Keep this up, make life difficult for me, and I'll leave my mark. Maybe I'll just take off your earlobe. Maybe I'll carve a little something in your back. So easy, easy. Yes?"

  I stare up at him, vibrating with terror, and when he slowly removes his palm I stay still, frozen by the sharp edge pressed against my throat. "Torben will kill you," I whisper.

  "Torben'll understand," says Hrald, voice uneasy. "He's clan. We share our females. Ol' Hrald deserves a little something for all his work. Did I get any gratitude? No. So I'll have to pay myself for my efforts."

  "Let me go," I say, putting all the force and anger that I can into my voice.

  "Wait a second," he says, sniffing at the air. "What's this?" Before I can react, he seizes my wrist. The same hand, I realize, that I was using to touch myself. "Oh," he groans, bringing it to his face. "Oh, you've been naughty, haven't you? Thinking of old Hrald? Imagining his thick cock pumping in and out of your ass? Oh, yes. Yes, you have."

  I buck and try to shove him off as he brings my fingers to his lips and licks them, shoving them between his lips and sucking my juices with low, gargling groans. He's too heavy for me to shift. And just when I go to scream, in outrage and disgust, I feel the knife against my throat again.

  "Shh," he whispers. "Shh, relax. You ain't never been with a man like me before. Relax, missy. Maybe you'll surprise yourself. Maybe you'll like it. I seen the way you been looking at me. The way you've been wanting me. Oh, yes. Don't deny it."

  I want to retch as he licks my hand, sucking on each finger as if it's a rib he's trying to get the last drop of sauce from. "Please," I say, voice shaking. "Please get off of me."

  "Tell you what," he says, letting my hand go and sitting up, moving his body so that his knees pin down my arms and the crotch of his jeans is inches from my face. "You suck me off, suck me off like you mean it, and I'll let you go. How 'bout it? I'll leave all your pretty holes alone if you just wrap those lips around my cock."

  I stare up at him, fascinated and disgusted by the naked hunger on his face, the inhuman light burning deep within the depths of his eyes. He means it. He really means it.

  "Shh," says Hrald again, taking the point of the knife and pressing it to my cheek. "Just go with it. Hmm?" He rubs his thumb roughly over my lips, parting them and pressing it deep into my mouth. I want to bite hard, tear it off, but that knife, oh, that knife. He works his thumb over my tongue, pushes it deep into my mouth, right into the back of my throat, making me gag.

  "You gonna take me all the way? You better not puke on my cock, bitch. I'm going to push into the back of your throat till you see red." His voice starts to get rough. "Oh, yes. Thinking you're better than me. I'll show you."

  I'm trying not to choke. Turning my head from side to side as his thumb is replaced by three fingers and he forces them deep. I can't breathe. I can't move. His face dances above mine, refracted through the tears the gagging is causing. I can't control myself any longer. I have to scream. I can feel it burning up from my core, even if it means his cutting me, scarring me or worse.

  "What the -?" I hear the distant words, and then an unearthly roar shatters the room. It's so deep and terrifying that I feel it in the cavity of my chest. Hrald twists violently around, his face going slack-jawed with fear, and then something slams into him with such power that he's lifted off my chest and sent crashing into the wall.

  I scream and scoot up to the headboard. There's a bear in the room. A real live bear, but oh so much larger than anything I've ever seen, ever imagined. It's the size of a VW van, filling the space so that I can't think. The bed is slammed aside as the bear powers toward Hrald, who is trying to stand, the wall cratered where he hit it, hand to his head, and then the massive bear slams a paw into his shoulder and Hrald is sent flying bonelessly to collide with another wall.

  I hear bones snap. The bear roars again, a sound of bloodcurdling fury, strands of spittle flying through the air. It goes to rear onto its hind legs, but there's not enough room. Instead it leaps forward and pins Hrald to the ground, and then lowers its head to the biker's face, and again it roars, the sound so deafening that all Hrald can do is turn his head to one side and close his eyes.

  "Torben!" I scream. "No!" He's about to kill Hrald. I know it. I can see it written in the way the bear pauses, eyes narrowing, ready to reach down and crush Hrald's skull in his jaws.

  The bear stops and turns to look at me. It's Torben. I know it, it's in his eyes, and behind that all-consuming fury I see the man. Then, with a chuffing growl, he steps back and shifts into the man I know. I watch mesmerized as the fur recedes, the vast amount of muscle twists and shrinks, all of it taking but a second till Torben stands naked before me, hands clenched into fists, staring down at where Hrald lies.

  "Get up," he snarls.

  I'm about to protest, argue that nobody could stand after such treatment, but somehow Hrald manages, pulling himself painfully to his feet, shoulder twisted, something terribly wrong with his hip. But he stands, faces already swelling with bruising.

  "Get the hell out," growls Torben. "Get on your bike. Go meet up with the pack. If I see you before dawn tomorrow, I swear by the Great Bear that I'll kill you."

  Hrald sneers, spits a bloody wad on the floor, and then limps to the door. He opens his mouth to say something snide, but whatever look Torben gives him freezes the words in his gullet and he instead disappears into the night, closing the door behind him.

  I sag against the headboard and start crying, the sheer intensity of the moment now that it's finished overwhelming me. Torben is immediately next to me, an arm around my shoulder, and even though I'm scared of him, of the bear that's hidden in his depths, I bury my face in his neck and let him hold me close. That feeling of being pinned, trapped, with Hrald leering down at me haunts me, makes me want to scream. But he's gone. He's gone, and Torben is here, holding me tight, whispering in my ear, squeezing me gently and promising that nothing will happen to me, nothing will happen, that he won't leave me, that I'm safe.

  Slowly I stop crying, catching my breath in a series of hitches, and finally I pull away and wipe my eyes.

  "Are you OK?" Torben's voice is almost scared. "I mean, I'm sorry, that's the dumbest question, but -"

  I force myself to nod. "Thank you."

  He shakes his head. "I was an idiot. I should never have left you here alone. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was trying to protect you, from - from me, but instead -"

&nbs
p; It's my turn to shake my head. "No. No, it's not your fault. It's his fault. He - he -"

  Torben pulls me in close and squeezes me tight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest. It feels good. Safe. In his arms, I feel like the world is held at bay. My father. Universal Books. My past. Men like Hrald. None of them can get to me with Torben here.

  But I know that's not true. Even though it feels amazing, I know this world is crueler and more complex than that. I wipe at my face. Take a deep breath and sit up again. Torben is studying my face, his own torn by conflict and doubt.

  "I should never have brought you up here."

  "Torben –"

  "No. It's bad enough that I'm putting myself through this foolish plan. But to drag you along? All because I need you, want you close?" He gets up, the mattress shaking as his weight leaves it, and paces to the window, rubbing at his head. "What was I thinking? That Krassok and the others will respect my claim to you if they beat me? That I can keep you safe with thirty-plus Claws in the area?"

  "Torben, I wanted to come -"

  But again he cuts me off. "No. No, you didn't. Not the real you. Just the part that's responding to my bear. The part that's not giving either of us a choice."

  "No," I say. "I mean, yes, kind of. But I came because I had to. For other reasons." I feel confused, all tripped up. "But now I want to be here, for my own reasons." I stop. My head is spinning, a whirling mess.

  "What are you talking about?" He steps close and kneels by the edge of the bed. God, he's naked, he's been naked all along, but I put that out of my mind, focus on his face. "What do you mean, reasons of your own?"

  "The Book Cave," I say brokenly. "I need your store." It sounds stupid. Trivial to bring up. To talk about money when so much more is at stake.

  "The Book Cave?" He sounds confused. "Oh. Right. But..." He frowns. "How can that be worth this danger? How can you be risking all this for your job?"

  "It's not just my job." I feel a sinking feeling of reluctance. I don't want to talk about this. I've never discussed my business arrangement with anybody else in my life. "I have to make you sell. If you don't, I'll - I'll remain trapped. Working for Universal Books for another seven years."

 

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