ROMANCE: Bear Naked Seduction (Billionaire Bear Trio Book 1)

by Audrey Storm

  “Oh, yes,” she said happily. “I’ll got get him for you,” she patted her shoulder as she left, heading towards one of the many doors. Claire just sighed, and sagged in her chair.

  Ainsley was ready immediately, and Claire was relieved to see that instead of a limo, he had a simple BMW pulled up for her. As she got into the car, try as he might she ignored his protests to have her ride in the back and took the passenger seat next to him, rattling off the address of the courthouse.

  “Ah, yes,” Ainsley said as he pulled onto a main street. “Mr. Michaels had business here yesterday. It was lucky he saw you when he did,” he added.

  “What business did he have at one in the morning?” she asked, staring out the window.

  Ainsley shrugged. “Court business. Such a late night is not so unusual for him by any means, I assure you.”

  That made Claire turn and look at Ainsley. “No?”

  Ainsley shook his head. “Much is expected of him,” he said. “As he is the son, set to inherit the firm one day.”

  That just made Claire slump back against her seat. “Yeah,” she muttered sarcastically. “I can just imagine.”

  Chapter 3

  Claire hadn’t been at work for more than an hour when she found Chad’s note. It was hidden in her folder among the various paperwork, and she couldn’t help but pull the cream piece of paper out with a scowl on her face. His handwriting was scribbled across it, complete with his personal cell number and a second one to contact Ainsley.

  As if.

  Claire tried to work as normally as possible, immersing herself in her work as she sorting through the evidence against her client. Some things just weren’t adding up, though. For one, the opposing lawyer was trying to say that Claire’s client had taken a workshop just three days before the incident concerning safety in the work place, one specifically highlighting the assembly line and the personal protective equipment a worker should wear concerning it. Yet, Smith’s schedule called for him to usually work three days on, and two days off. Shouldn’t he have been off of work on the day that they were trying to say he attended a workshop?

  Claire opened up her email and shot off a letter to Smith concerning his work schedule. If they could prove that he’d never attended their so-called ‘workshop,’ then she might just get their case thrown out and clear the way for an easy win.

  By the time ten o’clock rolled around and most of her coworkers had left, Claire decided that she couldn’t call it any closer and turned off her own computer. After last night, she wasn’t going to stay out until the courthouse was a ghost town again. She’d leave when there was still traffic outside at least, and get home safe. Besides, the next bus was due to arrive in ten minutes anyway.

  Claire hadn’t expected to find a black BMW with Ainsley sitting in the front seat right outside.

  “Ah, Miss Claire!” he said, practically falling out of the car.

  “Ainsley,” she said slowly. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Collecting you, of course,” he said happily, already walking around to open the passenger door for her. “Mr. Michaels didn’t want you to be alone tonight, not after yesterday.”

  “Huh,” Claire clicked her tongue. “Well, you can tell Mr. Michaels that I appreciate the gesture—you know what? No, that might just encourage him. Just say that I had a bus to catch, and thanks but no thanks.”

  “Miss Claire,” Ainsley said, stepping in front of her as she tried to walk around the car. “Won’t you at least accept an old man’s help?” When Claire hesitated, he said, “Let me have the peace of mind that you’re safe and sound in your own home.”

  That made Claire sigh. “Fine. But just so long as you are taking me to my place.”

  “Of course, Miss Claire,” he assured her.

  “Uh, you’re sure this is ‘your place?’” Ainsley asked, not for the first time.

  Claire just rolled her eyes in amusement. “I’m telling you, Ainsley—this place isn’t nearly as bad as it looks.”

  “Oh,” Ainsley said quietly. “That’s comforting.”

  “Okay, look,” Claire said with a snort. “It may not be on its own private piece of land, or in a particularly well-lit area, but it’s super cheap.”

  “Miss Claire,” Ainsley said pitifully, pointing ahead. “There are cars without tires, and too many youths creeping in the dark. Look! There’s one now!”

  Claire could see him. He was young, and she guessed by his hair that he was Hispanic. She thought she could see a bulge under the back of his shirt, but she wasn’t about to tell Ainsley that.

  “So?” she said instead. “It’s a free country. Leave him alone, Ainsley. He’s not hurting you.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about,” he muttered darkly.

  By the time they pulled up to her building, Claire was shaking with silent laughter at Ainsley’s antics. He was hunkered down in his seat like they were in a war zone, and his wise blue eyes were narrowed as they searched the darkness.

  “Thanks, Ainsley,” she said, opening up the door to step outside.

  “W-wait,” he said, putting the car into park as he turned off the engine and ran after her. “Let me walk you to your door.”

  “What? And risk someone stripping your car? I hear they can steal four tires in under two minutes, you know,” she teased.

  Ainsley seemed to hesitate at her words, but stuck true to his word. “Mr. Michaels would never forgive me,” he told her.

  Claire just rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself.”

  She led him up to the battered black door cage and entered her code, grabbing the doorknob when it unlocked. She yanked it hard, a difficult move because of all the rust, and slipped inside, waiting for Ainsley to do the same. Once he was in, she unlocked the real door with her key and led him into the entryway.

  Her door was on the second floor, but she wasn’t going to make Ainsley go that far. “I’m just right up there,” she pointed at the stairs. “See you later, okay?”

  “I’m coming with you,” Ainsley said, puffing out his thin chest.

  Claire just shrugged. “Okay, okay.”

  They went up the wooden stairs and turned left. “This is me,” Claire said, indicating the green door. “Apartment twenty-six. Thanks for walking me to it,” she said, barely disguising her impatience. She just wanted to get inside, rip off the skirt suit she’d been wearing for two days, and take a long, hot shower.

  But Ainsley didn’t say goodbye. His eyes were on her door, and he gently moved her out of the way as he stepped in front of her. That’s when Claire saw it.

  The lock on her door was busted.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered, her heart speeding up to match the erratic pace it’d hit last night in the alley. “Ainsley—”

  “Let’s go back downstairs,” Ainsley said quietly. “And go back to the car.”

  As soon as they were back outside and safely locked within Chad’s BMW, Ainsley pulled out his phone and dialed nine-one-one. “Yes,” he said calmly to the other line. “I’m at the corner of Bradley and Kent, at two-sixty-seven apartments. I’d like to report a robbery.”

  It wasn’t long before they saw the flashing red and blue lights behind them. Two officers exited their patrol car, and Ainsley left the BMW with Claire to take them upstairs. They stood aside as the police nudged the apartment door open, their weapons out and flashlights on, ready for anything. Claire couldn’t hear anything besides her blood rushing in her ears, but a small voice in her head kept whispering, “Calm down, girl. I don’t want to kill you unnecessarily.”

  It only took a minute for the officers to sweep her studio apartment. Soon they were back at the door, opening it wide and flicking on her main light. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now. But ma’am, if you notice anything missing,” one said, handing her a business card. “Please, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  “T-thanks,” Claire nodded, still a little shaken up. As they left, she turned to Ainsley. “Well, this is goodni
ght,” she said, trying to smile. “Thank you for staying—”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so.”

  Claire jerked her head up at the voice, her eyes connecting with Chad’s at the top of the stairwell.

  “What are you doing here?” she frowned.

  “Ainsley texted me,” he said, glancing around as he approached them. “You really live here?” he asked.

  Claire could feel her face growing hot. “Chad Michaels, if you only came out here to insult me—”

  “Of course not,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve come to take you home. Well, to my home.” He was already reaching for her hand.

  “What? No, I’m fine here! The police already came, and—”

  “And left you with an empty apartment and a broken lock, I know.” Taking her arm, Chad began pulling her back toward the stairs. “Besides, I’ve got amazing security back at the house, and with all of your bad luck , I’d say that you need it more than I.”

  Claire couldn’t argue with that, but she couldn’t just leave without checking her apartment over either. “I need to see if anything’s missing,” she said, yanking her arm back. “Give me a moment.”

  “Oh, so you are coming then?” Chad smiled. Claire didn’t bother answering.

  Her apartment, to her relief, wasn’t the torn up mess she would’ve expected after someone had taken the time to break her lock and get inside. Everything was just as she’d left it, though some of the papers at her makeshift desk were scattered on the floor. She stooped to pick them up, trying to remember what she’d printed and if any of them were missing.

  “This is where you live?” Chad asked, peeking inside.

  She could practically hear the, “It’s a bit small, isn’t it?” Shuffling her papers, she set them back onto her card table and grabbed her backpack, turning to her small dresser.

  “Do grab more than one outfit,” Chad advised, looking over her shoulder.

  “I’m not staying with you for very long,” Claire shot him a look. “Just until my lock gets fixed.”

  “Oh, good idea—Ainsley!” he called into the hall. “Can you ring a local locksmith? Tell him that we’ll pay double for a speedy job.”

  “You’re the one who invited me,” Claire muttered.

  “Oh yes, of course,” Chad agreed. “I just don’t want anyone getting any ideas when they see your broken lock. Don’t want your neighbors suddenly making off with your belongings.”

  He had a point, not that Claire would ever admit it.

  She gently took two work suits from inside of her closet and rolled them up, placing them carefully at the bottom of the bag. Then, on second thought, she shoved a few jeans and t-shirts inside as well. As she went to her bathroom to grab her toiletries, Chad stopped her. “Please don’t think that we don’t already have plenty at the house,” he said, steering her back to the hallway.

  “Sir,” Ainsley said, hanging up his phone. “A Jerry Samson will be here in the morning to repair her door.”

  “Excellent,” Chad nodded. “Have a man here to meet him.”

  “Of course,” Ainsley said, following them down the stairs.

  As they got into the car and Chad urged her to sit in the back next to him, she put her bag on her knees and wondered when this had become her life.

  Chapter 4

  Claire was working late again. Smith had finally emailed her back, and had attached a picture of his work schedule that week. As she had suspected, he wasn’t working on the day the company claimed he’d attended a workshop. Plus, in his reply, Smith said that safety workshops weren’t a thing at the company, and that he’d certainly never been to one it they did exist.

  Rubbing her eyes, Claire checked her watch. It was already midnight, and the realization left her blood cold. She quickly saved her work and stood up, shutting down the computer.

  Chad hadn’t contacted her since that morning when they’d had breakfast together again. Ainsley had taken her to work, and Chad had texted her around noon that her lock had been fixed. It made her glad that she’d brought her bag of clothes with her—she could take the bus home and be done with accepting help from Chad Michaels.

  As she stood, she slung the bag onto her shoulder and moved her purse over it. The bus would be arriving soon, and she knew that if she wanted to get home before one a.m. then she should start heading toward it.

  She paused, half-bent to lock her desk drawer, when she heard a noise. It was a slight creaking noise, like a door opening. But she was the last one in the building.

  Wasn’t she?

  Claire flipped the keys in her hand so that they slid between her fingers as she formed a fist, dropping into a squat behind her desk so she could watch the office entrance. She could hear footsteps now, and see a shadow over the door. With another creak, she watched a hand open it.

  “Claire?”

  She let out the air she hadn’t known she’d been holding in. “Chad!” she yelled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Chad stuck his head into the room, squinting in the darkness. “Claire, where are you?” he asked, ignoring her question. Claire huffed as she stood up, pocketing her keys as she flicked on the lights.

  “Ah, there you are,” Chad smiled.

  “Chad, it’s midnight. What’re you doing at the courthouse?” she asked again, rubbing her forehead.

  “Oh, same as you, I’m sure,” he shrugged, glancing at the posters on the wall. “Finishing up the odd paperwork and answering a few emails. Ainsley said that you hadn’t called yet, so I thought I’d join him.”

  “Join him?” she repeated. “Wait, you don’t mean—”

  Chad flicked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “He’s been waiting outside since six. I told him you liked to burn the midnight oil, but, well,” he said, laughing at his own words. “Of course I didn’t mean it literally.”

  “I’m taking the bus home,” Claire announced, glaring at him.

  “Yeah?” Chad asked, and Claire tried to ignore the way that her stomach curled at his carefree tone. The idea of sitting at the bus stop alone, in the dark, scared her. “You want to?”

  Claire opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t find the words.

  “Well,” Chad said, taking off his hat and leaning against one of the desks. “While you think on it, do you mind if I talk?”

  Claire frowned, but sat back in her office chair. Chad took that as his green light, and closed his eyes with a sigh.

  “Claire,” he said, opening them again. “I wanted to apologize.” Claire had half a notion to scoff at his words, but his tone stopped her. She’d never heard him speak so seriously. “What happened in college,” he said, shaking his head. “It was wrong. I was a stupid boy pretending to be an adult, and I didn’t think about how much my pride would hurt you. I’d take it back if I could,” he said, talking faster. “I’d tell everyone, and wear a shirt that had our names on it in a heart.” Catching his breath, he said, “I wouldn’t be ashamed of someone who made me happy.”

  “Well,” Claire said awkwardly after a moment. “That’s good of you—”

  “I always regretted it,” he cut her off. “And then, when I saw you the other day; well, I thought I’d imagined it. Sure, there was some girl being kidnapped, but it couldn’t have been you. But then, I turned down that alley and helped the girl up, and it was you. It was your eyes, your smell. Suddenly, I’d found you all over again.”

  Claire frowned. “You could’ve found me before I was being mugged at knifepoint, you know,” she said irritably. “There’s Facebook—social media. And my number hasn’t changed.”

  Chad just shook his head. “I was too ashamed. But, Claire,” he moved, suddenly sinking to his knees in front of where she sat. “We’re here now—you, and I, and I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Do you think that we could try again? To be us?” he asked, placing one of his hands over hers.

  Claire blinked. This was her Chad. Behind the locked dorm room door, in the words o
f his cheesy notes, or the cuddles late at night under the sheets.

  But her Chad had betrayed her, and she’d realized that he hadn’t really been her Chad at all.

  “You know what?” she said, glancing at her watch. “You just made me miss my bus.”

  Chad stared up at her, and a smile broke his sullen face. He stood up, dusting off his pants, and extended a hand to her. “Then I guess I owe you a ride,” he winked.

  Claire rolled her eyes, but took his hand. “Something like that.”

  Sure enough, Ainsley was waiting outside with the same BMW that he’d driven her around in the day before. She thought about it for a moment, and slid into the backseat after Chad. He lit up at her choice, happily leaning in towards her. She just rolled her eyes, promptly dropping her bag and purse in between them. Chad just laughed, and told Ainsley to take them home.

  Chad led her to the same guest bedroom as before, and Claire had him locked out before he’d even finished talking. She heard him laugh as he walked away, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  By the time she’d taken a lunch break at work the next day, she had a solid defense for Smith. They were due to meet for court the following week, and she was confident that it was going to be a quick win. She’d already explained her strategy to Smith, and he was ecstatic. She’d even asked him if he’d like to offer the company a deal—make a large demand, reveal their evidence—but he’d declined. He wanted his day in court.

  Regardless, she still had a lot to prepare. She typed into the night, and it was as she was just finishing up her closing statement that she heard someone in the building.

  “Hello, Chad,” she called, saving the document and printing it out. She always did edit better on real paper. Slipping it into her folder, she heard the door open behind her. “Here to pick me up?” she asked, turning around to send him a smirk.

  Only, it wasn’t Chad standing there.

  “Hello, Claire.”

  His voice made her heart sink. It was him—the man from the alley.

  “You are one tough woman to find you, know that?” He stepped into the room properly and closed the door behind himself. “I stalk your workplace, and the one night I grab you, someone else ruins it. So I go to your apartment—and you’re never there.” He was slinking toward her now, his steps slow but deliberate. “What’s a man to do, but try, try again?”