“What the hell are you doing, Michael? Are you nuts?” she called down, folding her arms in front of her.
“Hope ya don’t mind if I do a little practice here. I’ve been running through a new tune, thought I’d see how you liked it,” he said, changing the tension on a string until it hummed with the note he was looking for.
“If this…if this is supposed to be some kind of romantic…thing…I’m entertaining guests! You’re just embarrassing yourself!”
“Sure. Give my best to Denise from America’s Next Top Fitness Instructor,” he said, flashing a solid white grin.
Stupid Shifter hearing! Nicole harumphed and crossed her arms extra hard. She wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction. This stupid stunt wasn’t-
Michael's guitar sprang to life, a bluegrass ditty that leapt across the space between them, slicing through the air and the rain. The notes hit her like bullets shot from his guitar, cracking the stubborn sulk she was resolved to stay in. His big palm came down across his guitar’s rosette and it went silent. For the briefest moment, even the raindrops seemed to stop, waiting patiently for what happened next. Michael's voice rose up, soft and sweet.
Sweet mountain tumble, spin me round and round,
Sweet mountain tumble, feet never hit the ground,
The look in her eyes, the words on her lips,
Holding me through life’s mountains and dips…
Nicole felt it just…slip off. The pain and self pity that had kept her paralyzed in her apartment. It sloughed off like an old winter jacket. The room moved around her, swaying back and forth as her feet carried her to her door. She took the stairs four at a time, throwing back the front door and sprinting to close the distance between them.
He was still singing as Nicole collided with him, pinning the guitar between them as her lips pressed against his. He pulled the guitar aside as he kissed her back, hungrily.
“Hi,” she said quietly, burying her face in his neck, smelling his aftershave.
“I take it you like the song,” he said, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Freezing,” he said, water dripping off his ears.
He lumbered after her, stiff from the cold rain and wind he’d endured outside her window. She managed to finally pull him into her apartment with the last of her strength. Dripping wet, he looked around her apartment.
“Not quite what I expected,” he said. “I thought there’d be more empty liquor bottles and balled up typewriter pages.”
“Luckily for me you decided to serenade me shortly after I took out the trash. And no one uses a typewriter anymore,” she said. “We have to get you out of those clothes. It just won’t do to have you freeze to death in my apartment. Your brothers will think me a bad host.” She reached out and began to unbutton his denim jacket.
Michael's hand closed around hers. He looked down into her eyes. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you write about it? About us being Shifters?” His other hand lifted the contacts from his eyes and put them into a case in his pocket.
Nicole didn’t need any more time to think about the answer to that question. She’d been asking herself the same thing since she submitted the article. “Because you love your music, and I didn’t want to take anything away from that. You’re going to become famous enough as it is. The public doesn’t need to know about your…wild side.”
Michael pulled her close, a masculine heat suddenly emanating from his wet clothes. “I thought that was the whole point. To find my wild side and share it.”
Nicole leaned in close, “I’m not sharing it with anyone,” and pressed her lips against his. She worked the buttons on his jacket and peeled it off.
His hands cupped her face and ran through her hair, dipping under the back of her sweater to feel the heat of her skin. He moaned as she pressed herself against him, the fullness of his cock growing down his pant leg.
“We’ll just have to put these in the wash,” she said, pulling his wet t-shirt over his head and plopping it onto the floor. Her fingers dug into his jeans, the backs of her fingertips tickled by his growth of hair below the belt line. She pulled him backwards as they kissed, her sweater becoming another dark lump on the floor. Her bra followed, and electricity shot through her as her nipples brushed against the hair on his chest.
He growled as he looked down at her, his eyes glowing like hot gold.
That sound, that look, that primal desire was crystal clear. Her heart began to race. Nicole felt her own body respond, a dew drop forming on the front of her underwear.
Michael's nostrils flared, taking in her lusty scent. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he conquered her mouth with his, crushing her in hot bliss. His thumbs hooked into her yoga pants and pulled them down to her knees. Without releasing her mouth, a massive arm picked her up like she was weightless, his other hand pulling her yoga pants and slippers off in one go.
“Oh, Michael…” she said, her damp hair covering her face. In darkness she felt her back press against the wall, and a massive hand wrap around her breast. The hot wetness of his mouth latched onto her, and she shrieked in pleasure as his tongue flicked against her nipple. Nicole lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, rubbing her aching slit against his thigh. She reached backwards to hold the wall, to brace herself against the first orgasm that came crashing over her. She moaned as pulses of heat shot through her.
“Your scent,” he whispered, his tongue lashing her captive nipple one last time. His arms swept her up and he carried her, effortlessly, to her dining room table. “I can’t wait any longer,” he said as he sat her down on the table. The stubble on his cheeks scratched her thighs in an intimate, familiar way.
“Mmmmm,” she cooed, her hands softly running through his hair as he placed soft kisses across her breasts and down her stomach. She bit her lip as his tongue came out and gave a long slow lick right up the front of her underwear.
“How do you smell so good?” he said, his tongue going back to sweep against her sopping wet fabric.
“Unnngh….” Nicole moaned, feeling every bump of his tongue through her soaked panties.
With a pull and a snap, Michael tore her panties from her body, leaving her hot core splayed open to his attentions. He descended on her immediately, his lips and tongue tasting and probing in an urgent feral way. One of his hands pressed down on her stomach, sealing her to the table. The other hand spread her lips, the air in her apartment suddenly cold wherever his hot tongue left a wake. His tongue dipped into her, sampling her honey. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he said, his tongue sliding up and down her lips.
“Shut…up…” she managed between gasps. Looking down her body, she saw a pair of golden eyes looking up into hers. She was his prey, caught and unmoving, and he would do with her what he wanted. She threw her head back and cried out as his lips planted down around her clit, his tongue licking her relentlessly. Her eyes closed and she floated in a warm sea, her orgasm becoming an otherworldly experience. Muffled sounds reached her ears and she opened her eyes.
Michael stepped out of the last of his clothes. A streetlight from outside cast an orange glow into the apartment, giving his jawline a striking appearance. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took her in. His heavy cock twitched, the head glistening in pre-cum. Behind this his sac hung heavy and low.
She sat up and scooted off the table. She stood in front of him, her fingernails running light trails through his curly chest hair. The little black wisps pulled taut then snapped into their original curls. The white lines she left in his skin felt like she was marking him. She liked that. “It’s my turn to have some fun,” she said, kissing her way down his sternum as she knelt in front of him.
“Oh Nicole,” Michael said, his eyes closing and his head going back. His legs, thick and strong as tree trunks, flexed as her mouth left a damp trail of kisses down his abs. He
planted his hands on his hips akimbo style.
Nicole playfully shot her tongue into his belly button, giving him a jolt. She reached his aching prick, heavy and engorged. She stroked him in her hand, enjoying the girth and power of his member. Like hot silk over a steel shaft, she gave him a squeeze and saw a new pearly drop form at the end of his cock. Her other hand went to his balls, giving them an appreciative squeeze. “And what do you have for me here?”
“It’s going to be all over your rug in moment if you keep teasing me,” he said.
“Such a wasteful boy,” she said, bringing him to her mouth. The head of his member pushed past her lips, the crown slipping past her teeth to pin her tongue. She gurgled, bobbing her head along his shaft as she sucked the musky saltiness from his cock. His pre-cum seeped out, his body eager to deposit his seed. She pulled her mouth off of him and swirled her tongue down his shaft, lapping at the connection between his cock and balls.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” he said, his voice a rough growl.
Nicole took his complement and redoubled her efforts, bobbing her mouth further down his shaft while one of her hands went south to relieve her neglected slit. She slipped two fingers inside herself when the cock in her mouth popped out.
With a bestial roar, Michael pulled her forward until she was on her hands and knees. He kneeled behind her, his dominant position reinforced by the huge glistening cock in his hand. His balls pulled up tight against his body, his body twitched with primal lust.
“Take me,” Nicole whimpered as she looked back at him.
Michael's fingernails dug into her hips, almost piercing the skin with savage sharpness. He was over the edge, his Bear now completely in control of his body. There was no yesterday and no tomorrow. There was just the prone female in front of him, assaulting his senses with her heat and lust. He pressed the massive head of his cock against her entrance.
“Oh God!” Nicole cried out as he slammed into her, completely filling her until the fronts of his thighs were hot against the backs of hers. All her senses were subdued, her mind completely focused on the huge presence behind and inside of her. Her hair was plastered against the side of her face, damp with sweat. Her fingertips curled into the rug as Michael mounted her, pumping in and out.
Michael grunted, his hips swinging forward to collide with Nicole’s ample ass. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her body. Sweat trickled down his chest and mixed with the creamy combination of their juices.
Nicole could feel him tense up as he bent forward, his face pressed against hers. His lips found hers, and they kissed passionately as he pushed himself inside her one last time. His hands held her hips like a vice as his cock spasmed.
She felt herself explosively cum as he filled her with his hot sticky seed, his cock sending pulse after pulse of thick fluid into her womb. Lightning shot through her body, her mind a storm of pleasure.
Panting, Michael pulled out of her and collapsed, face up on the rug.
He lay beside her and stroked her hair. “You are something else. Here I was rehearsing my apology.”
“Apology for?” she said, curious.
“How I acted when we first met. And to thank you for not exposing us in the article.”
“Telling the world was never an option.”
“When you left I didn’t know what to think or expect. Very few people would know this and not spill.”
“Very few people can be practical like me. I can imagine what you go through every day hiding from the world,” she said, looking over at the couch where she’d lived the past two weeks. “I can imagine it quite well.”
He squinted. “What if I hadn’t shown up tonight to do my best John Cusack impersonation?”
Nicole laughed. “I would have gotten my shit together. Eventually. But I’m glad things didn’t go that way.”
“Not everyone would give up a ton of money and a career boost like that. You could have sold me out to the highest bidder but you didn’t. Instead you wrote a hell of an article on our band. My family.”
“You read it?”
“A few times. I loved it.”
Nicole beamed. “I’m glad you did.”
“I usually don’t bother reading things that groupies write…” he said, the dim light in the room revealing an impish grin.
“I forgot, when you Shift do you turn into a Bear or a giant asshole?” she said.
“Usually both. Come here.” he said and kissed her.
I could get used to this, she thought and kissed him back.
Yoga Bear Menage
by
Becca Fanning
“Just concentrate on your breathing,” Dominick said from the front of the class.
The length of mirrors running down the wall showed faces of calm serenity, all calmly doing the Standing Bow pose. Hands pointed forward like nocked arrows, legs and feet arched back at high tension angles. Balanced between power and grace, my classmates were killing it.
Then I saw my own face. Sweat cascading down my chin. A grimace of strained pain on my face. I teetered forward, barely catching myself before tottering into my neighbor. My legs wobbled and my knees couldn’t decide if they wanted to lock into position or bend. My hands were too sweaty to grip my ankle properly, so it kept slipping. If this class had an ugly duckling, it was me.
“It’s all in your breathing. Everything starts with the breathing,” Dominick said, doing a quick demonstration at the front of the class. He took in a deep breath and reached to the ceiling with one hand. “Then, reach forward and kick back. Equal force.” He smoothly bent forward, his rear foot rising up and over his head. His golden eyes glimmered as the room filled with orange light. They didn’t call this the sunrise class for nothing.
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he was focused on me. You could never be too sure with Shifters. They didn’t really directly look at you for too long. I read online that they thought it was impolite, because they had the eyes of predators. Something in our ancient human brains didn’t like that stare, and most Shifters knew that.
But I couldn’t shake it. He was still looking at me. Not staring, not gawking. But he was watching me. Like he was willing me to succeed. Like he wanted me to succeed.
It wasn’t just his eyes that intrigued me. He was stunning, Shifter or not. A warm olive complexion, hazel eyes and a long mane of untamed black hair. Six and a half feet of lithe shredded power. He had full, high cheekbones and lips that easily curled into a smile.
We were doing hot room yoga, so no one wore more than they had to, including Dominick. His skin tight black shorts could have been boxer briefs for all they left to the imagination. I’d read that Shifters were different about sexuality too: it was more casual in their society. Now that they’ve begun to integrate with human society, there were still little culture shocks. Or, in the case of what lay trapped in those boxers, huge culture shocks.
“Three, two, one. Release,” he said.
Forty two gasps of relief filled the room as we all released the pose. Blood flowed back into constricted limbs. Some bent down to grab their water bottle.
“Lay down for dead body pose,” Dominick said.
We all lay down on the towels stretched over our yoga mats. We were half way done with the session, and the towels were already completely soaked. It was like lying down on spongy damp carpet. Not pleasant, but after the torture of that pose, it was heaven.
Sweat poured down my brow and off my ears. The air in the studio was oppressively humid. It cloyed at my skin, clung to the inside of my mouth and coated my lungs. The only thing that made it bearable was the reminder that the yoga poses were worse. It was all about perspective.
Spurred Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 4) Page 75
