Dancing Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  “Only two days,” she reminded him.

  “The thing is, we Saint men tend to fall fast and hard, if you know what I mean.”

  “I think so.”

  He smiled. “We also tend to know, right from the get-go, who we want to spend the rest of our lives with.”

  “Do you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Oh. Well. In that case…”

  She reached up to take his face in her hands and stood on her toes so she could reach him. When their lips met she felt the proverbial fireworks going off inside her, and as their kiss deepened, she knew that she would soon be able to fly.

  An angry car horn from the street below, brought her up short, and she pulled back just far enough to look around. They were standing right in the middle her living room windows.

  “Uh, maybe we should move this to the back,” she said, her breathless voice sounding strange to her own ears.

  Matt’s deep, rumbling chuckle was followed by a not-too-gentle nip on her jaw.

  “Good idea.”

  Mel laughed and pulled away, though she kept his hand clasped tightly in hers as she led him back to her bedroom, turning out the lights along the way.

  Once they were safely inside her bedroom, with only the streetlight outside her window for illumination, she raised her lips to his once more, and their hands began to roam. Matt slipped her jacket off and tossed it toward a chair while she pulled the tail of his shirt free, unbuttoned it then sent both shirt and jacket to the floor. He reached for the zipper on her slacks while she reached for his belt, thrilled by what she could see in the front of his jeans. In moments they were both naked and rolling across her double bed, which was dwarfed by his size.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses as he explored every inch of her body with his callused fingers, which sent tingles coursing through her.

  “I’m not really, you know,” she whispered, fighting to give as good as she was getting.

  “I guess I’m just gonna have to convince you, somehow,” he growled low in his throat, as his lips traced her face and moved on to her neck and shoulders.

  “I’m not very good at this, either,” she said, hating to admit it to him but somehow needing him to know.

  “Who says?” he murmured, as he shifted to let one callused hand cup one breast.

  She felt her world shift.

  “Well, I’ve only done this once before,” she said, hating to have to break that news to him at this point. “I was a sophomore in college. He was a grad student, with all sorts of experience, I pretty sure, and he said I wasn’t any good. I guess he was right, because I never did…well, I never...I mean, of course I’ve heard about orgasms, but I’ve never had one.”

  She felt herself blushing furiously, and when Matt stopped what he was doing to her, to take her face in both of his big hands, Mel had to force herself to open her eyes and face the music.

  “Darlin’,” he said, his smile surprising the heck out of her, “if you never had an orgasm, then it was the man who was doin’ it wrong.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprise overtaking her embarrassment.

  He grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

  He shifted once more, and the next thing she knew, those amazing lips were making a wet trail down to her breast, where he suddenly stopped and suckled.

  Mel thought she heard a scream as she all but lifted them both off the bed.

  She felt Matt’s laughter, as he wrapped his hands around her torso under her arms and lifted her up to feast on her breasts, first one then the other, until suddenly everything in her tightened and she felt wetness between her thighs as she was swamped with pleasure beyond her imagination.

  Matt lowered her gently to the bed when she finally went limp, still not quite certain of what had happened.

  “See what I mean?” he said, as he nuzzled her neck and ear.

  “Oh, yeah,” she gasped.

  Matt laughed and started to work on her again, but when she pushed at his shoulders, he rolled onto his back, allowing her to climb on top and straddle his thighs, so she could run her fingers through the thick curly hair on his chest.

  “My turn, big guy,” she said, surprising herself with the sultry tone of her voice.

  “Be my guest,” he said, reaching up to take both her breasts in his big hands.

  Mel found herself moving rhythmically against him, as she ran her hands over his chest and down lower, igniting sparks in both of them.

  “Careful, darlin’,” Matt said, when her hands found that part of him she had never seen before.

  She wished the streetlight showed her more, because he felt huge in her hand, and she had a sudden premonition that things were not going to work quite as easily as she had experience her one previous time.

  Matt didn’t give her a chance to change her mind but instead pulled her to him, flipped their positions once more, and went back to kissing her. This time, her legs fell open, allowing him to settle between them, and as he moved against her, she felt her own wetness lubricating him. Before she could decide how best to ask the question, she felt his fingers on her there, opening her to him, and in another moment, that part of him was slowing moving inside of her. She inhaled sharply, as she experienced his size in another way, but he was gentle and patient, pushing first in then pulling out, until her muscles relaxed enough to take all of him, and he was seated to the hilt.

  In another moment, they were moving together, and Mel felt the pressure build once more.

  “Matt!”

  “Just let go again, darlin’,” he admonished her, and she heard the strain in his voice. “I’ve got you.”

  “I can’t. Not again!”

  But she was wrong, of course. Matt reached down to touch her where they were joined, and she shattered once more. His roar joined her scream in perfect harmony as together they both found their release.

  Sometime later, Mel became aware of the world once more. Matt’s heavy weight pinned her to the mattress, but she never wanted to move again. She took as deep a breath as she could, and he shifted away.

  “No!” she cried plaintively.

  But he only rolled onto his back, carrying her with him, so that they remained joined. She felt him inside, not as big has he had been before, but still there, still a part of her. She wrapped her arms around him as best she could and hugged his thighs with her legs. She felt more alive than she ever had before and never wanted it to end.

  “I didn’t use anythin’ to protect you,” he said after a long moment, as his fingers played softly with her hair. “Is there any chance we could’ve made a baby tonight?”

  She felt the stickiness of his seed, and smiled.

  “If we did, I won’t mind,” she said.

  She felt him sigh, but she felt more than relief in it.

  “Then I’m gonna hope we did, darlin’,” he said, confirming her guess as he nuzzled her ear, “’cause there is one thing I forgot to mention.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, though she didn’t really care at this point.

  “I love you.”

  Mel went still, and when she pushed herself up far enough to look down at him, she knew those golden eyes could see her tears even in the darkness.

  “What’s this?” he asked, gently brushing the dampness away with a tender caress of his thumb.

  “No one’s ever said that to me before,” she whispered, afraid to break the spell.

  “You’re just gonna have to get used to it, darlin’,” he said, suddenly serious.

  “Okay.”

  “Only okay?” he asked, frowning.

  “I can get used to it, because I love you, too.”

  He took a deep breath then his smile grew and spread until it lit his eyes.

  “Okay, then.”

  She giggled, but then he pulled her head down and went back to the serious business of kissing her. She contracted her muscles around him, felt him begin to grow hard within her again, and the world went
away once more.

  BEARLY MENDED TITLE PAGE

  Bearly Mended

  Big Paw Security Book IV

  by

  Becca Fanning

  BEARLY MENDED

  “I have to pee,” Doctor Zoe Flynn said, more to herself than to the man lying in the hospital bed in front of her. He wouldn't be responding anyway; he'd been brought in yesterday covered in blood, suffering from heat exhaustion and dehydration. The man, the shifter, had been passed out for nearly his whole duration in the hospital. By the time she had been called in, he had been out for hours. She checked his IV's, ensuring that he was getting the vital fluids he needed to make a quick recovery. These shifters were tough, but this man, Russell G. McGregor, if his given name was real, had been pushed to his limits. “I really have to pee.”

  Zoe glanced at the patient bathroom. It was against protocol for hospital employees to use the patient's bathrooms, for all sorts of reasons, but she didn't figure Russell would mind. He would be out for another day or so. No one would ever have to know. Still… she hesitated. Zoe prided herself on being a by the books doctor: following every protocol, working up her charts perfectly, spending long nights studying newly developed techniques and ideas, and generally being someone new residents could look up to.

  Still….

  She did a quick calculation in her head. She would have to go down the hallway, cut left at the nurse's desk, following that hallway to the elevator. If she didn't have to wait long, which was always a gamble, the elevator ride took about 30 seconds. Another couple of twisty hallways and she would be in the employee's bathroom, if, and that's a big if, it wasn't full already.

  I could take the stairs, she thought. That would cut off the time spent waiting on the elevator. A gamble, as always. She regretted drinking those extra cups of coffee to keep her going through her shifts. She hesitated again, burning her valuable time.

  And then she was off, meaning to head straight past the patient bathroom. Instead, as she reached it, she glanced out in the hallway. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she ducked inside, closing the door silently behind her. The light hummed on automatically, bathing her in the sickly hospital light that she hated so much. She would be out of the bathroom in a few seconds, though. No harm, no foul.

  She had just sat down when she thought she heard someone moving in the room. Her heart started to beat in her chest, but after a few seconds of straining to hear and being rewarded with silence, Zoe calmed down. She reassured herself that there was no one else in the room, and Russell certainly couldn't be up and around by now.

  She closed her eyes, relief flooding her body. She had thought her bladder might burst. Lost in herself, she heard someone mutter, “Damn it!” Zoe flashed her eyes open, looking at the door. It was opening! Someone was going to catch her!

  She caught a flash of a patient's hospital gown, – she didn't know whether that was good or bad – before she got a full look at the patient's ass. Despite everything going through her mind, she had enough time to give it a lengthy and appreciative glance.

  He was trying to move into the room and Zoe realized his IV cords were caught on the door handle. “Damn it,” he muttered again, pulling hard and finally untangling his cords. He turned, his toned cheeks sadly turning away from her, and his eyes found her.

  She screamed. He yelled, his golden eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. She covered herself with a hand between her legs, the other in front of her in the universal, “Don't look!” signal. When he kept looking, she screamed again, louder. He stumbled backwards, still weak, his legs tangling in the cords, and he went down.

  Her screams died in her throat as his yells became moans of pain. He rubbed his head, closing his eyes, the room silent for a few moments except for her. Zoe was beet red, her ears burning so hot she thought they might activate the sprinklers. Why hadn't she locked the door? She always locked the door. Well, not always, she rued.

  “What...” Russell managed. “What… are you doing here?”

  “I had to use the bathroom,” Zoe replied, finishing up and getting instantly defensive. “If you would have knocked, all of this could have been avoided.”

  “It's… my bathroom, Doc,” he said, a weak hand on the sink, trying to lift himself up. She got up, the toilet flushing automatically, helping him stand. Together, they stood without saying a word, extremely close in the small room. “Uh, can I get a moment?”

  “What?” she asked, mind still racing on what had just happened. “Oh, yeah! Sorry!”

  Zoe moved out of the bathroom, stealing one last peak backwards, catching a glimpse of his butt. She waited for what seemed like five minutes before the toilet finally flushed and he came out of the bathroom, slowly. He walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

  “Well, I'm feeling better than I was,” he offered. “Guess I pushed myself too hard these past few days. I'm guessing I have you to thank for my speedy recovery?”

  “Yes. I'm Doctor Flynn. Zoe. Sorry we had to meet under those circumstances. I didn't think you would wake up.”

  “Not the worst way I've ever met a woman,” he said, turning his attention to the IVs attached to him. He squinted at one, before continuing, “Hmm. Not what I would have went with.”

  “What? That's what we give to all patients. What are you talking about?” Zoe asked, feeling defensive again. Was he questioning his treatment? What could this man possibly know about medical treatment?

  “Doc, I'm not one of your usual patients. I'm a bit more resistant to drugs. You weren't expecting me up for a couple more hours, maybe even a day?” When she nodded, he continued, “I guess you don't see a lot of shifters in here. Well, if you do have to treat more, you're going to want to up the dosage of the nutrients and vitamins. Maybe even the sedatives if you want to keep us under for longer.”

  “I don't think you're qualified to be giving me medical advice, Mr. McGregor. I'm a trained medical professional with years of experience. A lot of patients think they know better than their doctor, and they never do.”

  He laughed. He actually had the gall to laugh at her! Her defenses were back up, her embarrassment burned away in a flash of anger that she felt at him. She'd had patients yell, scream, call her a bitch, and everything else under the sun when she told them she was more qualified with administering her care than they were. But she'd never had someone laugh. Still, she had to admit that she liked the sound of his laugh, even if she didn't like what he was laughing about.

  “What's so funny?” she huffed.

  “Hey Doc, call me Russ. And from doctor to doctor, you need to work on your bedside manner,” Russ said, laughing again.

  “You're a doctor? I've heard that one a few times. Well, Doctor Russ, where did you get your medical degree?”

  “Nowhere you would know.”

  “Exactly,” she said, crossing her arms.

  He opened his mouth for his rebuttal, but froze. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring. Without a word, he grabbed her by her shoulders, peering out of the room. She attempted to fidget away, unsure of what was going on, but his grip was like steel.

  “What floor are we on?” he asked, eyes still locked down the hallway. She tried to turn around, but he held her firmly. When she didn't answer, he repeated his question.

  “The fourth.”

  “Fourth,” he said, pulling away from her, musing over what she had said. “I can survive that.”