Billionaire Chef Bear: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (Beast Bears Book 2)

by Natalie Kristen

  Layla could feel herself getting wetter. Her entire body was thrumming with desire and anticipation. She wanted him fully inside her. Now.

  Sensing her need, Dean gripped her hips and fed his cock into her pussy inch by inch. She blinked hard as she felt him slide deeper and deeper into her.

  It felt so, so amazing.

  Layla dug her nails into Dean’s bulging biceps, looking up into his fierce, handsome face. The veins were pulsing at his neck and temples as he forced his frenzied bear down. Layla could see golden fur race up his back as his angry bear rose to the surface. The fur disappeared in a blink. Dean’s human will was far stronger than his animal lust.

  He would never hurt her. She was so precious to him.

  Finally, Dean was buried to the hilt inside her. He dropped his forehead to hers and whispered, “My Layla...mine.”

  Kissing her, Dean began to move. Layla clung on to his powerful shoulders as he surged into her. He slid in and out of her body, slowly at first, then faster and harder.

  She wanted more.

  Layla cried out with pleasure as Dean fucked her furiously. Her breasts bounced as he pounded into her, and the sounds of their flesh slapping together filled her bedroom.

  A shaft of moonlight pierced through the gap in her curtains and bathed her bed in silvery light. She could see Dean’s powerful body glistening as he moved against her.

  Layla touched his handsome face, and wondered for a moment if she was dreaming. Was this wonderful man really in her bed, making love to her?

  “Layla,” Dean said, stroking her cheek.

  His voice was like a caress, tender and loving. She wanted to hear him call her name every day.

  She smiled up at him. It felt so good to have him in her arms, to feel their bodies joining and fitting together so perfectly. They were so good together.

  Layla held Dean tighter. She didn’t want this night to end.

  In her heart, she quietly allowed herself to hope and dream a little. Could this night lead to something more? Something lasting?

  Layla sighed softly. She shouldn’t be overthinking this.

  She should just let the magic happen.

  Closing her eyes, Layla surrendered fully to the delicious, decadent pleasure.

  Dean was taking her closer and closer to the edge. She was ready to fall, and she trusted Dean to catch her, hold her and keep her safe. With a cry, she shattered.

  Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her, and Layla cried out in ecstasy as she orgasmed again and again.

  Dean’s huge body tensed and jerked as he came inside her. Her pussy clenched and spasmed around his cock, gripping him possessively.

  As they both fought to catch their breaths, Dean buried his face in her hair and held her for the longest time. Finally, he withdrew from her.

  Layla whimpered in protest, not wanting to let him go.

  Tenderly, Dean kissed her eyelids and drew the covers up over her shoulders.

  “Will you stay?” she murmured.

  After a beat, Dean nodded once.

  “You’re amazing,” she said dreamily as she snuggled up to him. She listened to his steady, powerful heartbeats and felt his arms wrap around her.

  “This is nice,” she muttered with a sigh. “Having someone hold me...”

  As her eyes closed, she thought she heard Dean whisper, “I will hold you forever, Layla. I can’t believe I have finally found you.”

  “Found what?” she mumbled sleepily.

  “My mate.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dean sat up in bed and leaned back against the pillow. He looked down at Layla sleeping beside him, and he felt his heart clench in his chest.

  Layla looked so small, young and vulnerable in her sleep. She had a slight smile playing on her lips, and he heard her murmur his name more than once.

  Dean suppressed a groan when Layla moved and the covers slipped from her shoulders. A dark nipple was bared to him, and Dean had to stop himself from lowering his mouth to her luscious, generous breast. He could feel his cock jerk to attention as his bear stirred and growled.

  His bear wasn’t as restless as before but the beast was far from sated. Dean knew what his ravenous bear wanted. To claim and mark his mate.

  He’d had to hold his bear back and wrestle the angry animal down when he was taking Layla.

  His bear recognized her as his mate, but to Layla, he was simply a guy she had just met. Sure she was attracted to him, and she wanted him in her bed. But he had to make sure that she was ready before he claimed and marked her.

  He wanted to win Layla’s love and trust. He could mark her, but if she refused to accept him as her mate, it would fucking kill him.

  If Layla rejected his claim, she could simply walk away and move on. She could go on to date and marry someone else, and be happy.

  But for Dean, there could be no one else.

  And to watch his fated mate give her heart to another...it would tear his soul asunder and drive his bear insane. He would be utterly destroyed, his bear and heart forever broken.

  No.

  He couldn’t risk losing Layla.

  He would have to be patient. They could have sex. But mating sex would have to wait.

  Dean heard his phone buzz and he crawled out of bed to retrieve his clothes from the floor. Fishing his phone out from his pocket, he saw that it was a message from Zack.

  Can we come over for dinner tomorrow? Noah is asking for his Uncle Dean’s special spaghetti.

  Dean grinned at his brother’s message. Of course he would make his special spaghetti for the little man. Dean simply adored his little nephew. Noah was almost two now, and the little guy had a ferocious appetite.

  As Dean tapped a reply to his brother, he couldn’t help marveling at how much Zack had changed after marriage. Dean used to nag and remind Zack to come to his restaurant every week so that he could prepare something hearty and nutritious for his workaholic baby brother. Zack would grumble but he always turned up at the restaurant at least once a week.

  Now it was the other way round. Zack was the one who did the nagging and reminding. Zack drove his family to Dean’s place every weekend to make sure his big brother spent some time away from his busy restaurants and took time to unwind and catch up with the family.

  Of course. Tell Noah there will be ice cream and fresh chocolate chip cookies after dinner. Dean sent the message.

  His phone pinged almost immediately. Cookies? When did you learn to bake?

  Dean chuckled. His younger brother was sharp as a tack. Zack was shrewd and astute, and he was far better than Dean at reading situations and people. That was what made him such a successful investment analyst.

  My friend owns a bakery.

  Will we get to meet her tomorrow night? Zack messaged back with a smiley face.

  Dean glanced at Layla. He would love to introduce her to his family.

  He would have to ask her if she was free tomorrow night. Maybe.

  After a few minutes, Zack texted back. I’d call to grill you. But I don’t want to wake your friend.

  Before Dean could respond, Zack messaged again. I just called your home. No one picked up.

  “Smart-ass,” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes.

  Even though Zack was now the CEO of a huge investment firm, in Dean’s eyes, he was still that precocious, cheeky, bright-eyed lad. Zack often got into trouble at school for pulling pranks on his classmates and teachers, but his grades were excellent.

  It wasn’t easy to raise Zack alone after their father died, but Dean refused to be separated from his brother. He was determined to keep what was left of their family together.

  He had already lost one brother. He would not lose another.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Dean put his phone away and pulled Layla closer to him. Holding his sleeping mate, Dean stared up at the ceiling and thought of his brothers. He’d had two brothers, but now he had only Zack.

  Zack’s memories of the
ir eldest brother, Max, were vague and hazy. He was still a boy when Max left, and he couldn’t really remember or understand what happened that night.

  But Dean never forgot Max, and he never forgot that night.

  Unbidden, his memories surged and swirled around him. Dean knew from experience that fighting his memories was a painful, exhausting and ultimately futile exercise. Closing his eyes, he let the tide drag him back to the past, to that fateful night.

  When he opened his eyes, he no longer saw Layla’s cozy bedroom. Instead Dean found himself back in the small, cramped kitchen of his father’s house.

  There were four of them living in that tiny house. Dean, Zack, their dad and their eldest brother Max. Their mom had died young, leaving their human father to raise them all by himself. It wasn’t easy holding down two jobs and raising three bear-shifter boys, but their father did his best. Dean had never once heard his dad utter a single word of complaint.

  Dean watched the scene unfold before his eyes and he could hear every word that was being shouted. Max was arguing with Dad—again. They were arguing about nothing and everything. Max seemed to get angry a lot after their mother died, and he clashed often with Dad, and sometimes with Dean. They were all used to his bad temper and dark moods by now.

  But this time, the argument was uglier and Max hurled his words like knives. Dad spoke calmly at first, but finally he raised his voice and yelled back at his eldest son.

  Dean and Zack sat in stunned silence at the dining table, pretending to do their homework. At sixteen, Max was already a head taller than their father. He was big and loud, and Dean knew that Zack was a little afraid of Max.

  When Max moved towards the dining table, Dean instinctively jumped up to shield Zack. Zack was only eight, and he was still a pale, scrawny kid.

  Max grabbed Dean by the collar and snarled into his face. Dean was three years younger than Max, but he was tall and strong for his age. He didn’t back down.

  “You think I’m a monster.” Those were the very last words Max said to him.

  Dean lowered his eyes as Max stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. He had seen the deep hurt and disappointment in Max’s eyes. Max had an explosive temper, but he would never hurt his brothers, his family. He would never have laid a hand on Zack. So why did Dean react so defensively towards his big brother?

  You think I’m a monster.

  The accusation hung in the air. Max’s last words would haunt him for a long time.

  “He’ll come back,” Dad said, slumping into a chair in exhaustion and dejection.

  But Dean knew he wouldn’t. He turned and ran out of the house after his big brother, but there was no sign of Max. When Max didn’t come home that night, they all went out to search for him. Even the neighbors helped and a police report was lodged. But they never found Max.

  Max was gone.

  He was never found.

  Maybe Max didn’t want to be found.

  Forcefully, Dean shook away the memories and blew out a painful breath.

  Even on his death bed, their father was still calling for Max. The man never forgave himself.

  Their dad was gone, but Dean continued carrying the guilt. It was his fault, wasn’t it? He should have stopped Max from leaving. He should have said something, done something. Max was an angry, confused young man but he wasn’t evil.

  Max disappeared when he was sixteen. That was about twenty-five years ago.

  The scene shifted and Dean was back in Layla’s bedroom. He turned towards the window and stared at the dust motes dancing in the shimmering beam of moonlight.

  Their eldest brother was out there, somewhere.

  He refused to believe that Max was dead.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Dean leaned in through the open window on the passenger side of the car and handed Ursa a big paper bag. Ruth was in the driver’s seat, checking the rear-view mirror and scowling at the instrument panel. “Half full,” Ruth muttered. “We’ll have to stop to refuel on the way...”

  Ursa opened the bag to investigate the contents. “Ooh! Dumplings! Hey, Ruth!” Ursa nudged her sister “Dean made us dumplings.”

  Ruth peered in the bag and looked up at Dean with a grin. “You made these?”

  “Yup. Some of my colleagues helped. We experimented with the ingredients and the shape of the dumplings. We even had an impromptu dumpling-making competition in the kitchen this morning. It was fun and we came up with quite a few unique flavors. We plan to add them to the menu,” Dean answered proudly.

  Dean had left Layla’s house just before dawn and gone home to shower and change. His bear was too keyed up and restless so sleeping was out of the question. Dean decided to go to the restaurant and try to put his energy to good use.

  On impulse, he decided to try his hand at making dumplings. How hard could it be? He could add these delicious little treats to the menu.

  By the time his staff came in, he had already finished making a hundred dumplings.

  “Whacha makin’ boss?”

  As the junior cooks crowded round curiously, some of them picked up the dough and began making dumplings of various shapes and sizes.

  More cooks joined in and before long they were bouncing ideas around and coming up with great new recipes.

  That was how they worked in the kitchen. They had fun, but they kept learning and trying out new things. The best cooks never stopped learning and experimenting.

  Dean had called Layla in the afternoon. She was in her shop, and she had her hands full so she couldn’t chat for long. But she told him that Aunt Ruth and Aunt Ursa would be driving back to Springlake this evening. “They’ll stop by my bakery around five,” Layla said.

  Dean managed to speed to The Magic Oven with the piping hot dumplings before five.

  He wanted to hear their feedback.

  “What do you think?” Dean asked, as Ruth and Ursa popped the juicy fried dumplings into their mouths.

  “Yum!” they said in unison, giving him the thumbs up.

  “My God, they’re good!” Ruth exclaimed, cramming more into her mouth.

  “Good?” Ursa scoffed. “These dumplings are amazing!”

  Dean grinned as Layla came running out of her bakery with a few paper boxes. She opened the door and stuffed the boxes in the back seat. “I packed some donuts and muffins for you,” she said breathlessly. “I filled a whole box with cookies as well. I know how much your grandkids love those cookies.”

  Ruth and Ursa munched noisily and smacked their lips. “Thank you, Layla. We have so much food for the road!”

  “You should try these dumplings from Dean’s Kitchen,” Ursa said, holding up the bag. “We ate at Dean’s Kitchen once, with Endora, when it just opened,” she said wistfully. “But nowadays, the restaurant is packed all the time. You just can’t get a table if you don’t book at least three months in advance.”

  “I’ll get you a table,” Dean said. “Any time.”

  Ursa grinned. “Right. We’ll hold our next coven meeting at Dean’s Kitchen then.”

  “No problem.” Dean winked. “I’ll make the dumplings, and Layla can make the beer!”

  The two older women guffawed as Layla punched him in the arm. “Tea!” she thundered. “I’ll make tea.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Layla hugged and kissed her aunts, and wished them a safe drive home.

  Aunt Ruth was eager to hurry back to her beloved pet cat, Clover. And Aunt Ursa was missing her grandkids already. Layla had heard her cooing to her grandchildren over the phone and telling them that she would see them real soon.

  “Thank you. Thank you for making my first coven meeting so special and memorable,” Layla said.

  “Don’t be afraid to use magic in your everyday life. Use it for anything and everything. Have fun with your magic. Cast silly spells and go wild. Find your own style.”

  Layla chuckled, remembered her disastrous attempt at tea-making in the forest. “I was about to go order a caul
dron from Amazon. I thought I was supposed to do it by the book.”

  “You can throw away the book,” Aunt Ruth said, waving a hand. “We just wanted to show you how some witches do it. Obviously there are many ways to cast a spell. You just have to find your own way.”

  “There’s no fixed way to channel magic. Use a wand, use your fingers, use a spatula...anything,” Aunt Ursa told her.

  “Okay,” Layla said laughing. “I’ll remember that. Maybe at our next meeting, I’ll surprise you.”

  Her aunts looked delighted. “We can’t wait!”

  “Now, you are the Crone of the coven,” Ursa said, patting Layla on the shoulder. “You get to decide the venue for our next coven meeting.”

  Layla smirked. “I thought we’ve already decided on the venue. Dean’s Kitchen.”

  Aunt Ruth chuckled. “Yeah. ‘Coz Dean’s a member of our coven too.”

  “What’s my title?” Dean asked, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Maiden, Mother and Crone are taken. So I am the...”

  “Consort,” Ruth suggested. “Consort of the Crone.”

  Ursa snickered. “Which makes you a Croner!”

  “Aunt Ursa!” Layla cried, mortified.

  Her aunts giggled and turned to Dean. “We’ll vote on your title at the next meeting.”

  “I’m still going to vote for Croner,” Ursa declared.

  “See you at the next full moon!” Ruth and Ursa waved and Layla watched the small green car pick up speed and hurtle down the street. Aunt Ruth could be a Grand Prix driver. She could navigate tight corners at hair-raising speeds and her rusty old car could overtake all the fancy muscle cars and sports cars on the road.

  A couple of birds were hopping across the road when they spied Aunt Ruth’s car bearing down on them. Squawking, the birds took off in fright.

  Dean wrapped his arms around Layla and gave her a light squeeze as the car vanished from their view.