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

by Audrey Storm

  “Is this a bar?” Andrea said, interrupting whatever Hank was saying about her eyes. She glanced around the dark couches, her eyes landing on a silky red pillow. “Or is it an opium den?”

  “It can be whatever you want it to be,” Hank whispered into her ear before he moved away from her to plomp down on the couch. Then, grinning at her, he patted the spot beside him.

  Andrea withheld a sigh, her hands twitching with the urge to clench into fists. Wordlessly, she sat beside him, and she was immensely relieved when he didn’t put his arm around her. At least he had some restraint.

  “Eric,” Hank called as he stared at Andrea. “We have company.”

  Andrea furrowed her brow. But before she could ask the billionaire to clarify himself, a bony young man jumped up behind the circular counter. Andrea jumped in response and snapped her attention to him. His light hair looked ratty and unkempt, his goatee in the same state. When he let out a large yawn, Andrea immediately knew why his appearance was so disheveled.

  “You were sleeping back there?” she said, wincing when the bartender bumped into the rack of beverages and glasses behind him. “Why?”

  “Hank said I could,” the bartender said to her, his jaw jutting from side to side as he stretched. Then, cracking his neck and his knuckles, the blonde looked at Hank. “What will it be this time, boss?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Hank said, bending his head toward Andrea’s. “Ask the lovely lady.”

  The bartender looked back at Andrea. “Ma’am?”

  “Club soda,” she said, tensing with apprehension when Hank huffed.

  “I said ‘drinks,’ not ‘club soda,’” he said. His lips twisted downward, his expression full of disgust. “Pick something else. Anything else.”

  She gave him a challenging stare. “Water.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “I am working.”

  “Yes, you’ve mentioned that, but a deal’s a deal. And I know that you know that when I invited you in here, I didn’t want to speak with you about my personal business while we sip water and soda.”

  “So you consider illegally owning a bear your personal business?”

  “I’ll tell you if you order a grown-up drink.” He cocked an eyebrow then, discomfort making his features go slack. “You are at least nineteen, aren’t you?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or horrified. “I’m twenty-six.”

  He bellowed out a sigh, a laugh bursting out of his mouth. “Thank God! You have to forgive me, but I’m never great at guessing a woman’s age. But, then again, my mother taught me to never partake in such a sensitive endeavor, so I guess it’s just something branded in my brain.” He turned back to the bartender and gave the kid a quick nod. “Two glasses of champagne. Everybody loves champagne.”

  Andrea rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” She put her purse on her lap and began digging through it for her tape recorder and notepad. “If it gets you talking, I’ll have one glass of champagne.”

  He hummed at that.

  Once she had everything she needed outside of her purse, she put the purse aside and turned on the tape recorder.

  “Kinky,” Hank said, purring a little. “But if you’re recording this conversation, why do you need the pen and notepad?”

  Andrea opened her mouth to defend herself, but when she couldn’t think of a rational explanation, a blush came over her entire face. She was certain she had seen reporters use multiple means of recording information before…had she made a rookie mistake already?

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” Hank said. He turned to the bartender, who had made his way to them and who was handing them their drinks. Hank took his and nodded his gratitude toward the kid. “You can do this interview however you want to.”

  Andrea accepted her drink from the bartender and then watched as the kid walked back to the counter. He hopped over it with ease—not even touching the rack—and immediately laid himself down.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Hank asked, regaining her attention. He took a large sip from his beverage, a delighted smile following the action.

  “I suppose,” she said.

  “Is this the first time you’ve conducted an interview?”

  “No.”

  “Really? When was your first official interview?”

  She didn’t want to talk about the owner of the flower shop. Remembering her pen and notepad, she grabbed them. She had to awkwardly balance her drink and her notepad in one hand, but she made it work; she didn’t even want to think about dealing with the tape recorder anymore. “No, now it’s my turn for a question. Do you own a bear as a pet?”

  “As a pet? I didn’t realize people owned bears as pets.” He made a thoughtful noise, shrugged, and then took another sip from his champagne.

  After a beat of silence, Andrea had to keep herself from growling. She took a deep breath. “Please just answer the question.”

  “After you take a drink,” he said, pointing at her glass. “Otherwise, we are not sharing drinks, and that would make our verbal contract void.”

  Tired of her own frustration, Andrea took a quick sip from her drink. Warmth tingled down her body, but she didn’t show it. “There, now answer the question.”

  “Bossy, bossy. Very well, my answer is no. I do not own a bear—not as a pet, not as a lawn ornament, nothing. I do not own a bear, period.”

  Disappointment settled on her chest, although she knew she shouldn’t have expected this assignment to go so simply. She took a larger sip from her champagne, her notepad scraping against her wrist. “Then how do you explain the bear your guests saw that night?”

  “They were all drunk. I’m sure they ‘saw’ lots of things.”

  Andrea was about to panic when she realized that Hank could be lying—of course he could be lying. She forced herself to breathe slower and actually think. Even if he wasn’t lying, surely there had to be a story here somewhere. “So…what did happen that night?”

  He drank from his glass, and she drank from her own in response—though in a much smaller amount.

  “Want me to show you?” he said, leaning toward her.

  She leaned away and narrowed her gaze. “No. Just tell me.”

  He pouted, muttering about how “un-fun” she was before finishing up the rest of his champagne. Then he burped and looked back at the bar. “Eric! I need more!”

  The bartender popped up from his spot behind the counter and went to pouring another glass.

  Andrea licked her lips, a plan forming in her mind. Perhaps it was cliché to use alcohol to manipulate someone, but how could she ignore the opportunity when Hank was making it so easy?

  “Hey, Eric,” Andrea said, smiling at the bartender. She raised her glass. “Do you have any moonshine? That’s more my drink.”

  Hank cackled. Smacking her shoulder, he said, “I knew you were better than that! Really, all the female reporters are. Or at least the ones I meet.” He looked back at Eric. “Two glasses of moonshine for me and the lady!”

  “Which kind?” Eric asked, rubbing his tired-looking face.

  Hank turned to Andrea and raised his eyebrows in question.

  Andrea fluttered her eyelids at him. “Surprise me.”

  Chapter 3

  Several drinks later, most of which Andrea had poured on the other side of the half-wall, Hank was swinging back and forth in his seat and telling her about three bears.

  “People think it’s magic, but I think it’s science,” Hank said, moving his glass around so emphatically that some of the liquid sloshed out of it and splattered over Hank’s clothes. The billionaire either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “But people are stupid, you know?”

  “So you do own a bear?” Andrea asked for the umpteenth time. She had turned on the tape recorder some time ago, and it now hid beneath her notepad. If only Hank would actually something incriminating and not random. “Hank? Do you own a bear?”

  He
stood up and dropped his glass. “You can’t own the bear! No one owns the bear!”

  Her eyes lit up and she grinned. “So there is a bear?”

  Growling, Hank turned and shoved her to her back. His entire body hovered over her, his eyes flashing with lust. “No one controls the bear!”

  “Hank!” Andrea cried out, surprise and heat flaring through her. Confliction ran through her for a brief moment—could she really compromise herself for a story? But it instantly vanished when he began leaning toward her, his arms wobbling and his body swaying clumsy; he could pass out at any moment—could quit talking.

  Seeing the opportunity for the fleeting thing that it was, she grabbed his face and pulled him toward into a deep kiss. Her lower belly burned with desire, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her throat. Perhaps this part of the job wasn’t so bad...

  Hank then pinned her arms to the couch, his grip on her decent but slipping every so often as he clearly struggled to remain conscious. They were awkwardly squished there, but Hank didn’t seem to find this problematic. Truthfully, she didn’t either.

  “Bears can’t be owned or controlled,” he murmured over her lips before kissing her again, harder this time. With his tongue, he painted burning alcohol and saliva over her lips. When he was done, he raised himself a little and breathed out, “They take all of their mates.” His eyes shrank into black orbs for just a second before shifting back to normal.

  Andrea stared wide-eyed at him—at him and his now-normal eyes. Was she crazy? Was she more buzzed than she initially thought?

  Hank nibbled at her jaw, and then he licked and kissed his way up to her ear. “Bears are powerful, and we three are the most powerful in the whole goddamn world.”

  “Three?” Andrea stuttered, desire flooding through her yet again; it didn’t push away her curiosity though, and she focused harder on Hank’s words.

  “Yes.” He wrapped his lips around her earlobe and sucked. “Why else would we work together?”

  Andrea’s mind reeled, shoving aside all of her emotions. “Wait, you’re telling me the Billionaire Trio own bears?”

  “No one owns the bear!” He raised himself again, staring down at her and breathing heavily. “Why can’t you understand that?”

  “So it’s just one bear?”

  He gawked at her like she was the most idiotic person he had ever seen. “We’re three bears.”

  Andrea nodded, deciding to play along. He was obviously drunk, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he wasn’t making sense. Still, if all three of these billionaires illegally owned a bear, then that was a better story than what she was assigned to discover.

  “Tell me more,” she said.

  “God, you’re hot,” he said. “I love them curvy.” He grabbed the collar of her shirt and yanked down.

  She gasped at the sudden and powerful action, cool air brushing over clavicle. Automatically, she arched closer toward him with the need to be touched—tasted. “Oh, Hank. Yes.”

  “Yes, yes, say my name,” he growled, his hands still pulling down her shirt.

  The next second, he managed to completely tear apart her top.

  “Fernando is such a dumbass,” he breathed, his eyes glued to her bra and hands as he tossed away bits of her shirt. “But that might be the bear in him—biology’s all stupid. Grizzlies take what they want. You understand?”

  “You have a grizzly—” Andrea caught herself, shaking her head a little. She reached for her bra and tried to take it off, but she was distracted by too many thoughts and emotions to get the garment off of her. “A grizzly lives here? Unowned?”

  Hank grinned devilishly. “Yes.” He grabbed her hands and pulled them away. Again, his eyes flashed in a weird way…like he was on drugs, maybe. He gaped at her breasts. “Yes, and he takes what he wants.”

  “What else does he do? And what about Fernando’s bear?” Again, she arched her chest toward him. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling with a sense of triumphant. “Tell me everything.”

  Hank kissed her cleavage, his tongue darting out every so often to taste her flesh. When he came upon her bra, he grabbed it with his teeth and growled. Then, instantly, his head shot up and the bra came tearing off of her.

  Andrea inhaled sharply. The fabric of her bra—the freaking wires—had not been that weak, had they? As she was trying to process what she had just witnessed, Hank was already sucking her left nipple. When his teeth grazed over the hardened pebble, she gasped and bucked toward him. “Oh, Hank, that’s good.”

  “Submit,” he breathed, nipping at her left breast before he licked his way over to her right one.

  “I’m submitting,” she said. “Just keep talkin—” She gasped again when he bit her right nipple, heat flaring through her and making her head spin. “—talking about the bears.”

  Hank growled, lightly biting into her breast and pulling it upward.

  The flesh between her legs moistened, her entire body quivering with a sudden arousal. She couldn’t hold back her moans as he continued to bite and taste her, making her hotter and wetter.

  “Hank,” she gasped, already forgetting about the interview. “Hank, please, just…” Instead of voicing her embarrassing wants, a more embarrassing whine squealed out of her throat.

  “You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing her pants and tearing them to shreds. “Grizzlies, Polars—they take want they want. And I’m both!” After he grabbed the bottom of her panties and tore them off of her, he went about tearing off his own pants and underwear.

  “Polars?” she whispered, trying to think past the fog of lust.

  “Yes.”

  Andrea’s eyebrows shot up the moment she saw his large member, hard and spurting out precum. She followed it as far as she could—up until he was pushing it inside her wet folds.

  Her head fell back, pain and pleasure throbbing inside of her. “God, Hank, yes—”

  “Scream it,” he growled, shoving himself inside of her.

  She cried out, her fingers clawing into the couch while her legs twitched. “Hank! Yes!”

  He pumped himself in and out of her at a rapid pace, his movements jagged. “Louder!”

  “Hank!”

  “Yes!”

  Pain and pleasure burst inside of her with each of his thrusts, and she loved every second of it; she had never had sex like this before—so powerful, so raw. Tears trailing from her eyes, she continued to scream Hank’s name; it was the only thing she could think to do.

  “Tell me you submit,” he breathed, slowing a little and grinning down at her. “Tell me you submit to me.”

  Burning passion flooded through. She trembled and moaned, “Yes.”

  Hank bared his teeth and moved faster. “Say it!”

  “I submit to you.”

  Smiling again, he returned to his rapid pace. The friction—all of the angles—it was only a matter of moments before Andrea was crying out in ecstasy, pleasure overwhelming her senses and wracking through her. She felt Hank come a few seconds later, his seed searing into her.

  Grunting, Hank slowed and then collapsed on top of her. Andrea was too listless to even squirm beneath his heavy weight.

  “You’re mine,” he panted out. “You stay.”

  “Okay,” she said, turning her head away so that she could breathe. “Okay. Tell me more about you and these bears.” When he didn’t answer right away, Andrea tapped him. “Hank?”

  He snored in response.

  Andrea let her arms fall. Relief and pleasure continued to wash over her, but she expected that self-hatred and shame would follow soon enough. She bit her lip at the thought, little wisps of breath moving past her lips. As long as she got evidence for Hank’s claims, then this little…indiscretion would be worth it. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  Chapter 4

  The next couple of days were the most degrading of Andrea’s life. Hank, once sober, didn’t openly admit that he had claimed he owned her during their lovemaking, but he s
till acted like he knew he said those very words. He bought her dresses and then told her which ones to wear when they went out. He held her ass tightly when the press took their pictures and he stuck his tongue down her throat when no one was around. In return of her services, Hank continued to talk about the bears the Billionaire Trio owned separately—one of them being half Grizzly, half Polar—though he was more elusive sober than when he was drunk. And while she had gotten him to confess to having these creatures live on their properties into her tape recorder, she still sensed there was more to the story.

  “Every time you drink, you tell me that no one owns the bear,” Andrea said, wearing a purple backless dress. Her tape recorder in one hand and her purse in the other, she waited patiently in the entryway while Hank made his slow way toward her. “What do you mean by that?”

  “What do you think I mean by that?” he said, smirking. He took his hands out of his jacket’s pockets and crossed his arms. “You’re smart. Read me.”

  “It sounds like you’re an animal activist who wants to protect animals’ rights.”

  Hank snorted, amusing lighting his eyes. “Yes, let’s say that’s my answer then.” As she opened her mouth to protest, he moved up to her and pushed aside her tape recorder. “Now, now, no need for that tonight. Tonight is about having more fun, not working.” He snaked his arm around her waist and kissed her.

  Andrea tried not to wince into the kiss. When they parted, she smiled at him. “Right. Of course. Let’s go.”

  He extended his arm toward the door, and she obeyed the silent command and walked toward it.

  At a different bar than the one they had gone to the night before, Andrea was relieved to find herself sitting at the end of the row of women who were sitting beside Hank. They were all at the bar counter, most of the women completely focused on Hank and his wads of cash while Andrea rested her elbows on the counter and drank her martini. Beside her, the woman laughed hysterically at something Hank had said, and Andrea rolled her eyes.