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Bad Boy Bear: BBW Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (Bears of Pinerock County Book 2)

Page 3

by Zoe Chant


  "Don't be gone too long," she managed to say.

  He grinned. "Knowing I have this to come back to?"

  "And be careful, please. Creed and his gang don't mess around. And they're armed. You may be a grizzly, but you aren't bulletproof."

  "I know." He kissed her forehead. "See you in a few minutes."

  He locked the door behind him. Saffron pushed apart two slats of the blinds and watched him cross the parking lot in the bright sunshine. Everything seemed serene and still. Just an ordinary noon on a weekday in a small town like the one she'd grown up in.

  But she knew all too well how a town like this could have a dark secret lurking underneath the pastoral surface. Some of the other towns near Silver Hill, she knew, were ruled by other gangs like the Black Wings. And they all had nonaggression pacts with each other. She couldn't remember if Clover was one of those towns, but if so, they would turn both her and Remy over to the Black Wings in a heartbeat rather than risk a fight.

  Thinking about it was doing her no good. Instead she padded into the bathroom in her sock feet. She had put her hair back in a ponytail band for the ride over to the motel, to keep it from reverting to a mess of tangles. Now she pulled it out of its ponytail and ran the brush through it until it floated around her shoulders.

  The purple blouse she'd picked out, while admittedly just a cheap Walmart special, was low-cut in the front, revealing a generous slice of cleavage. She'd definitely seen Remy checking it out while they were walking around in the store. She squirmed out of the blouse and looked at herself in the water-spotted motel mirror, while her loose hair rested cool against her bare shoulders and fell across her bra-clad breasts.

  .... No, maybe this was too forward. She knew he wanted this—her animal told her so, and besides, he exhibited avid interest in every line of his body. But what if he thought she was being too wanton? What if he thought she was trying to trade sex for safety, rather than sleeping with him because she wanted to? Worst of all, what if she scared him off? You only get one shot at this, she thought, gazing at herself in the mirror with the purple blouse in her hands. One true mate. Don't mess it up.

  The key rattled in the lock. She jumped and whirled toward the door, automatically bringing up the blouse to cover herself.

  Remy came through the door and stopped. He took in the scene, mouth open. Admiration and lust were the emotions most clearly visible on his face. Behind him she could see the parking lot, which made her realize anyone passing by—not that there was anyone in sight—could also see her.

  "Door?" she squeaked.

  Remy jerked, as if startled from a daydream. "Right. Door." He closed and locked it. "I didn't see anything. No animals behaving oddly, no motorcycles." He kept darting sidelong looks at her, eyes lingering in the general chest area. "I think we're safe for now."

  "I can put my blouse back on," Saffron offered, clutching it in both hands.

  "Do you want to? Because ..." He looked at her, full on. "I hope you won't. I've been wanting a closer look at those ever since I met you."

  "Please," she breathed, and then when he took a step forward, she held up her hand. "No, wait. If I took my shirt off, I think it's only fair."

  "Oh, really?" Amusement danced in his gray-green eyes. "All right." He shed his heavy leather motorcycle jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Underneath he was wearing a sleeveless white T-shirt—and an amazing collection of tattoos.

  "Oh, wow." She tossed the purple blouse carelessly to one side. Her eyes were riveted on ... well, everything. Both his arms were wreathed in ink. The left had a detailed grizzly bear, covering the arm like a sleeve, with its snarling jaws on his shoulder. The right featured a curling montage of flames and roses, with the open jaws of a dragon on his shoulder to match the snarling bear on the left.

  Smiling at her reaction, he stripped off the T-shirt over his head, and turned so she could see that the dragon went across the rippling muscles of his back. Its tail curled out of sight under the low-slung waistband of his jeans. When he swiveled all the way around, she caught her breath again at his rock-hard pecs, with the spreading branches of a tree sweeping across them. She hadn't noticed until she saw it in its entirety, but the tree also wove its branches into the designs on each shoulder; it went behind the bear, and the dragon was clutching a branch in one claw.

  "Tree of life," he explained. "Want to touch it?"

  "I want to touch all of it." She crossed the floor to him, and spread her hand on one of his pecs, her fingers covering the inked branches. Even with the detailed tattoo job, his skin felt just like warm, ordinary skin. She ran her hand down his washboard abs, fascinated by the way the design continued on downward, appearing and disappearing as she smoothed her hand over it.

  "A lot of people ask me why I'd bother," Remy said, and she looked back up at him. He was gazing down at her touching his tattoo as if it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

  "I'd never ask that," she said, and smiled. "Want to see something?"

  She pulled her loose curtain of hair out of the way, sweeping it over one shoulder to leave the other one bare, and turned to the side so he could see the small fox tattoo on her left shoulder blade. It was located so that a bathing suit or strappy gown would leave it bare.

  "Nice." His fingertips stroked across her shoulder, and she shivered as the touch sparked her nerve endings like electricity. She couldn't tell from the sensation when he touched the tattoo, but she could tell he'd reached it because his fingers circled slowly.

  "I have another one," she said, and added with a smile, "But you'll have to find it."

  "Sounds like a challenge."

  She let her hair fall back in place and reached up to wrap both arms around his neck. "Think you're up for it, grizzly boy?"

  For answer, he cupped his hands under her jeans-clad buttocks. She gave a little gasp as she was suddenly lifted into the air and raised so their faces were on the same level. She wasn't terribly short, but he was so tall he made her feel small. In fact, her head was dangerously close to the low motel ceiling.

  "Watch it," she warned, wrapping her legs around his hips to make her position more stable. "I don't think a concussion would be a good way to start out the fun."

  "I'll be careful."

  "I know," she said. She had no doubt that, for all the strength she could feel in the powerful arms holding her up, he would always be careful with her.

  Remy smiled. He captured her mouth with his own, and kissed her until she was breathless. She felt weightless, disconnected from gravity, dimly aware of Remy spinning both of them around, as if he was dancing with her in the cramped space between the motel bed and the window. Momentum lifted her hair out like a dancer's swinging skirt. By the time he stopped at the bed, she was dizzy and lightheaded—but in a good way; it felt a little like being drunk, not intoxicated but just enough to be warm and filled with delight.

  So this is having a mate. She didn't want to think the word love, not yet. But maybe that was the warm, effervescent feeling that filled her—love, and desire, and desperate wanton need. She rolled her hips, rubbing her crotch against his, and was rewarded with a slight hitch in his breathing.

  "I think we're still wearing too many clothes." Clad only in her bra, her breasts rubbed against his tattooed chest every time either of them moved. Her nipples were erect, standing up beneath the light silky fabric.

  "I think you might be right," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that she could feel vibrating through his chest.

  Gently, with the controlled strength of those powerful arms, he lowered her to the bed. Saffron propped herself up on her elbows so she could enjoy the sight of Remy unzipping his jeans and sliding them over his narrow hips, followed by his boxers. His cock sprang free, erect in a nest of light brown curls.

  Saffron sat up and started to undo her jeans, but Remy knelt naked on the bed and touched her hands, stopping her. "Let me," he said. "I want to savor every inch of you, and every moment of this."
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br />   She rose up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his muscular shoulders, kissing his neck and the side of his jaw. He pulled down her jeans, then hooked his fingers under the edge of her lacy panties—the only thing she had left, now, of that awful, ill-fated wedding ensemble—and tugged those down too. His big hands caressed her hips and stroked over the curve of her ass. His fingers were slightly rough with calluses, the sort that men get from working hard with their hands.

  She was wet already, quivering with anticipation. Remy teased her with a finger, lightly stroking through her folds—then, as she jerked in reaction, his hand slipped away again, teasing her along. She nipped his neck lightly, and felt him shiver.

  He ran his hands up her spine, and undid her bra. Her breasts swung free. "Oh," Remy murmured, "yes." He cupped her breasts in his large hands, bent to stroke his tongue over each of the erect nipples in turn.

  The teasing made her writhe. She was wet and slick, aching to feel him inside her. Her hips bucked involuntarily every time his tongue grazed her nipple.

  He pulled back, and grinned at the look on her face. Sensing her need without having to be told, he gripped her buttocks and pulled her forward, guiding her wet, slick entrance onto his cock.

  Anticipation hadn't prepared her for the pure bliss of feeling him enter her. His cock was as big as the rest of him, and it filled her to capacity, as she'd never been filled before. The angle was perfect, pressing against the sensitive spot inside her with each thrust of his hips. His thrusts were exquisitely timed, each one hitting her just as she began to come down from the last one, raising her pleasure higher and higher in an upward spiral that left her almost mindless with ecstasy.

  "Remy," she gasped. "Claim me. Make me yours."

  Once he put his claiming mark on her, every shifter who looked at her would know she was someone's mate.

  "Do you care," he managed, his words coming in staccato bursts between strokes, "where I—"

  "No, anywhere, just—do it!"

  His teeth raked lightly across her neck, sending electric shivers through her and building the rapture inside her even higher, and higher yet. Then he bit down, and a sharp spark of pure pleasure burst through her. There was no pain, only white-hot sensation. Her back arched and the heat spreading outward from her rhythmically thrusting hips mounted to a sudden fever peak. Instinct took over, and as her orgasm mounted inside her, she bit down fiercely on his neck, claiming him as he'd claimed her. Then stars burst behind her eyes and she tightened her arms around him as she felt him jerk in the throes of his own climax.

  They rode out the waves together, coming down slowly at last. She relaxed in shivering increments, feeling the last flutters inside her as he slowly eased out of her.

  "Is this all right?" Remy asked. He touched her neck lightly. She felt a slight stickiness as his finger grazed the healing bite mark. Unlike most shifter injuries, it would always remain visible, demonstrating to everyone that she was his mate.

  "It's wonderful." She let her hand rest just below the place where she'd bitten him, a neat little crescent mark which had already closed up, leaving bare traces of blood. She could imagine the way it would heal to a small silver scar, such as she'd seen on other shifters in her town, and a thrill raced through her chest. Mine. He's mine.

  "Hey," he said, "I didn't find your other tattoo."

  Saffron laughed. Her jeans were still tangled around her ankles, and neither of them had ever gotten around to taking her socks off. She kicked the jeans off lazily, then collapsed onto her back and lifted her foot into the air. Remy grinned, tipping his head for a better look at the view—he was kneeling between her legs now, his sated cock half-hard, as she stripped off the sock. Saffron wiggled her bare toes, with her leg still in the air, and rotated her foot so he could see the tiny rose nesting in the hollow of her ankle.

  Remy caught her ankle lightly in his hand. He ran a finger over the tattoo in the hollow of her ankle bone. "I like it."

  "I had to get it done twice. The first time, it healed too well. Shifter healing, you know. Did you have that problem with any of yours?"

  "A little," he said. "Usually I go to tattooists who are used to working on shifters. They know you have to go a little deeper and use more ink than on most people."

  "Mmmm." She was warm and relaxed and, for the first time since she could remember, she felt safe. Creed's bunch didn't know where they were. Her eyelids were growing heavy. It felt as if she hadn't slept properly in years.

  Remy rolled her gently to the side so he could pull down the sheets on the bed, then rolled her back. She giggled sleepily as he settled her onto the bed and then eased in beside her.

  "Do you think this is all right?" she asked, as he threw an arm across her. "Just falling asleep here, I mean, in the middle of the day."

  "We may as well. We're hiding out."

  "Nothing else to do," she agreed.

  "I can think of other things to do." He nipped her neck lightly, just above the claiming mark.

  "Already?" She gave him a playful swat. "Rain check, buddy. I want a nap."

  "Later, then," he murmured, and blew on the claiming mark, sending an unexpected jolt of sensation through her. It was going to take some getting used to. "I want to make this good for you. My beautiful, brave, perfect mate."

  "If you think I'm perfect, you are in for a rude awakening."

  "You're perfect to me," he whispered, and slid a hand over her bare shoulder.

  Saffron closed her eyes before tears could spring into them. How long she'd waited to hear someone say that—and then, when Creed had chosen her, she'd thought she never would.

  But Creed hadn't put a mark on her. Remy had. No shifter in the world would accept Creed as her mate now. Even if they weren't away from the Black Wings yet, Remy had made her safe in a way that no one else could.

  As she began to drift, another thought occurred to her, and she giggled again.

  "What is it?"

  "I forgot to buy anything to sleep in."

  "Oh no, how terrible," he said drowsily. "I guess we'll have to run right back to Walmart then."

  She gave his hip a light smack—or his hip was what she aimed for, but her hand connected squarely with his ass.

  "Nice," he murmured. "I wouldn't mind some more of that."

  Saffron rolled over and snuggled into the curve of his body. "Later, big boy. Later."

  Chapter Five

  Remy woke dazed and relaxed. Motel bed ... cheap motel sheets ... all of that was familiar, but the warm female body curled against him was something entirely new.

  For a little while he lay enjoying the feeling of her skin against his, her tangy female scent overwhelming the motel-room smells of cheap laundry detergent and cleaning chemicals. With the blinds closed, shadows were deepening in the room, and the sunlight gleaming through the cracks had a golden late-afternoon tinge. Saffron's lips were parted in sleep, her hair spreading out in a dark corona around her head. The fresh claiming mark stood out as a darker half-moon against her pale skin.

  From where he was lying, Remy couldn't see the digital clock on the bedside table, but his body was getting increasingly insistent that he needed to use the bathroom and find something to eat. He extricated herself from Saffron's sleeping body as carefully as possible. When he came back from using the bathroom, she was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. Her hair fell like a dark cloud around her shoulders.

  "What time is it?" she asked.

  Remy glanced at the clock. "About five-thirty."

  "That was nice. I really needed a nap." She stretched, and smiled at the look on his face as her bare breasts lifted with the movement of her arms. "And now, I need something to eat."

  "We have sandwiches around here somewhere."

  "That, or we can go out."

  "Do you feel safe enough to do that?"

  Her nervous glance at the window answered his question. Then she sighed. "I feel safer with you than anywhere else. Beside that ... I don'
t know. I hate the idea of living my whole life in fear, you know?"

  "I know." He kissed her lightly. "No need to push it, though. Let's eat in here and then figure out if we should spend the night here, or clear out and find somewhere else to hole up."

  Remy watched with admiration and a certain amount of reluctance as she put her clothes back on, though she left her hair unbound and loose. He'd never realized he had a thing for long hair in women, but he certainly had it bad for long hair in this woman. As her hair swished around her shoulders, he remembered how it had swung around him when he picked her up, and the way it spread out across the pillow as she slept. He couldn't help thinking what it would be like with her on top, that curtain of dark hair hanging down around her face, enclosing them in their own private bower ...

  Saffron looked up from pulling up her jeans and her eyes dropped to his lap, where his cock had made its interest clear. "Ready to go again already?"

  "Unfortunately I'm hungry as a bear that just came out of hibernation." He winked at her. "Ask me again later."

  "At least put a shirt on, or I'm going to be too distracted to eat."

  "Just the shirt?" he inquired, reaching for his T-shirt. "Pants are optional?"

  "Yes, because that's not distracting at all."

  Once they'd dressed, they ate their sandwiches while sitting cross-legged on the bed. Remy had a thermos and a metal camping cup in his motorcycle saddlebags, and they washed down the sandwiches with slightly tinny-tasting motel water.

  "The question, I guess, is what to do long-term," Remy remarked as he cleaned up crumbs. "Did you have a plan, or was it just getting away?"

  "Just getting away. If I'd had a plan, I would have taken a few things with me. Like, say, my wallet or my phone." She winced. "My poor parents. They must be going out of their minds. I wish I knew if they're all right."

  "You said they helped you escape?"

  Saffron nodded. "They covered for me while I went out the back."

  "Then the best thing you can do for them right now is make sure it wasn't all for nothing. The last thing they'd want is for you to get caught coming back to check on them."

 

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