Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  Holden lifted her easily, pressing her back into the door, and she wrapped her legs around him, like they were already connected and he was already inside her, and pressed herself to him.

  He left off kissing her mouth. Holding her with his body and one hand, he used the other to tangle in her hair, dragging her head to his and then up so he could kiss and lick and bite her throat and she writhed, thinking of the fangs that had filled his mouth only minutes ago. He was a combination of protector and danger.

  "I want you," he growled, and lowered her to the floor, tearing her bra off as if it were nothing. Even as human he had fantastic strength. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hot breath on her skin, his tongue laving her breasts, leaving trails of shining saliva.

  Clawing at his back, she dragged her hands down to his waist, fumbling with the belt buckle there. His clothes were tattered but mostly intact. When he'd changed, they'd torn and stretched but not come off. Bears generally just shredded whatever they were wearing. Holden had kept hold of his humanity.

  For her.

  For all of the captives in the arena. For all of the shifters out there.

  With her proof and his actions, the league of anti shifters should fall. They'd be able to track down surviving shifters who had been taken and stop the kidnappings and murders.

  Her thoughts splintered again. His belt lay on the floor. He'd torn the leather in half.

  She ripped at his already tattered jeans, until he took over, and then she tore the shirt off his back, and set about her own boots and jeans until she was naked, in a kill zone arena, the scent of blood and cordite still heavy in the air.

  But now is smelled like they'd won.

  He dropped his jeans at his feet.

  She was beautiful. Honey colored all over, like the glorious mass of her hair, now freed from the braid. Large breasts, rosy tipped, nipples pointed upward. Tiny waist, tapering inward from her breasts, and rounded hips, leading down to a shaved mound. He could see her glistening from where he stood, both of them having finished undressing at the same time and turned to look at each other.

  She held her arms out to him, blushing, but he saw her eyes travel over the whole of his body and he grinned.

  He was huge. From the height to the width, the shoulders and arms that looked lanky in snap front shirts and t-shirts to the long, long legs that in jeans looked lean and out of them were muscled like a bodybuilder's.

  In between he had an eight-pack, showing even through the fur that dusted his chest and his abs and created a glory road down from his navel to his thick, hard, wet-beaded cock that strained toward her.

  She caught her breath and almost went to her knees, wanting to feel it in her mouth, to taste him there the way she'd tasted his mouth.

  But he caught her, maybe without knowing what she'd intended, and held her, like she was fragile and might break.

  And then as if he knew she wouldn't.

  His hands scooped under her ass, pulling her up. Dani wrapped her legs around his waist again, and as she did so, this time his hard, thick cock found her entrance and pushed, even as he pressed her against the door again.

  "Oh, god, Holden," she gasped, and he sank the entire length into her.

  He filled her completely. She could feel him rubbing against her clit, against her insides, it felt like he was filling her all the way to her spine, all the way into her chest. She felt wild, and clawed at his back, and the movement jostled him inside her and she came, hard, exploding, her honey covering them both, soaking them.

  He began to move inside her, thrusting hard, nearly pulling out completely with every stroke before slamming home hard again. Dani sank her nails into his back, holding on, bit his shoulder to stifle a cry as she came a second time, the rings of pleasure moving outward from her core so intense she ground herself against him, the pleasure racing through her body.

  Holden staggered from the door, turning into the office, aiming her at the desk. He sat her there, nearly kneeling to match height, and she simply lay back, pulling her with him, Holden pushing off the office floor to lay on top of her, both of them on the desk that groaned under their weight. Pushing himself into a missionary position with his arms stretched out, his back arched, his cock pushed as far forward into her as he could, he stroked hard into her, his head back until she dug her nails into his mid back, forced his head down to hers, his back now rounding as he lowered his face to hers.

  She kissed him, reminding him they were both there. The way his lips felt on hers, he'd never forgotten, he was just deep into the moment. He licked and kissed and drove himself deeper into her.

  He hadn't forgotten her, even for an instant. Even when he spun her. Especially when he spun her so he lay flat on his back on the desk and she perched on him, his cock deeper than ever, his hands now full of her breasts, fingers tightening on her nipples until it was almost painful.

  She gave a cry and started her own rhythm, fast, very fast, rocking on him and slamming her body down over him, one hand reaching for her own clit, drawing out her own pleasure. Her other hand reached behind herself to fondle him, the base of his cock, his balls, until she felt him begin to buck beneath her, saw his eyes flutter shut and his mouth open, almost there.

  Then she just rode him, hard, their sweat slicking their bodies together, her come, his cock, until he stiffened, his eyes flying open to take in her face. He said, "Oh, God, Dani," and came hard, shuddering, filling her and leaking out between them.

  Bringing them together.

  She collapsed against his chest, breathing as hard as he was, their sweat thick and hot and the smells in the room now the sour old dust of disuse, the smell of the pit, the cordite of the guns, and the salty desert smell of their sex.

  The police would arrive soon. They didn't have time for afterglow or cuddling or talk. They didn't have time to do more than dress and get their stories straight. Holden could hear the sirens coming fast. They only had minutes and his clothes had to be stapled in places to stay on.

  They were fully human now. Wet, bedraggled, victorious.

  And happy.

  Humans. With a future they could share and a fortune of her father's that Dani was already planning the best uses for. The best, most humane uses. The very uses Walter Sjoberg would have hated the most. The ones that would give back to the shifter community. The ones that would lead the way in investigations, funding the people who would find the leaders of the anti shifter league.

  And bring them to justice.

  Or kill them.

  She found she didn't care which.

  Holden, dressed in tatters, put an arm around her and stroked her wet, straggling hair back from her brow. He kissed her forehead. "You all right? To go out there and face the cops and the questions?" He considered. "Probably the media will arrive, too."

  She nodded. "I'm all right." She grinned, and rose up on tiptoes to nip and kiss his bottom lip, making him smile. "I'm all right and you're all right." She made it a question.

  He answered affirmatively and took her hand and they left the office together.

  Collection Day was over. She'd survived. She'd survived and so had her mother and sister. She'd be with them soon. Her mother already knew her father was dead. There would be probate, even with his trusts and wills, because there was so fucking much money.

  So much money that could now be used for good. She'd track the shipments of bear organs. Maybe she and Holden could bring down part of the traditional medicine market too.

  For now, she was happy, her body full of pleasure and her mind still reeling from doing what she'd set out to do.

  Whatever the future held, she thought she'd face it with the golden eyed bear holding her hand as they walked up the hallway together.

  END

  Alec

  Secret Baby Bears I

  by

  Becca Fanning

  Prologue

  “Hammer, Smith, & Partridge” hung over the front door, a creaky, faux-antique sign tha
t swung in the breeze.

  The five men looked at each other.

  “Nervous?” Alec, the biggest of the bunch, looked around at the others.

  Jackson shook his head. “Nah, man,” he said with a grin, flexing one of his giant biceps. “I’m sure this is nothing.”

  Rust and Clay exchanged glances. “I don’t really know what we’re doing here,” Clay said after a moment. “Did you guys get a weird voicemail, too?”

  Rock laughed. He was the youngest of the group; prone to never taking things too seriously. He grinned, and then said: “No fuckin’ idea, man.” He smirked. “You know, they never found out about what I did with that police car when we were all in college.”

  “This can’t be about that,” Alec replied. “That was over seven years ago. I got a message, too, but I couldn’t understand what the damn secretary was saying.”

  A hush settled over the group. Alec took charge and led the way inside. The doorway was so low that all of the men had to hunch down as they passed through. Inside was dark, a bit cramped and dusty. An elderly secretary sat behind a massive oak desk, scribbling something on a legal pad. When she looked up at the group of men, a slight blush washed over her wrinkled features.

  “Hello, boys,” she said with a smile. “Are you here to meet with Mr. Partridge?”

  The men all exchanged a look. “Something like that,” Alec said. “We all got this message-“

  “Oh, yes,” the secretary said, clearly more flustered than before. With surprisingly nimble fingers, she searched through a stack of papers on her desk. “You’re right on time,” she added, glancing up quickly. “Mr. Partridge is in his office. He’s expecting you.”

  The secretary got up and skittered across the room. She seemed nervous, like she was expecting something to jump out and bite her. As she knocked on the door labeled ‘Partridge,’ Alec glanced at her desk and read the word printed on a folder: “Speculon Labs.”

  “Come in!” A booming voice sounded from Partridge’s office. The men went in, single file, and arranged themselves around the spacious room. Like the front office, it was a bit dusty, but Partridge had the shades thrown open and sun was streaming through the windowpanes.

  “What’s all this about?” Alec cleared his throat and settled against the wood-paneled wall. “We all got calls, telling us to come here…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “I mean, could you tell us why you wanted us to come in? All at once?”

  Partridge turned to face the group. He was an elderly man with longish, tufted white hair and a silk bow-tie at his throat. Despite his old age, youth twinkled in his clear, blue eyes.

  “Yes,” he said, clasping his hands together in his lap. “No doubt you recall donating sperm to the genetic research project at Dodson University?”

  Chapter One

  Talia stood at the front of the classroom, her hands poised in front of her. “Class, settle down,” she called in a mild, calm voice. “We’re about to begin for the day.”

  All of Talia’s students loved Ms. Roberson. Even the rowdy ones could always be brought to order with a stern look or a word of encouragement. Talia was a natural teacher, and it showed. This was her third year at Rickard Elementary, and even though she’d missed the kids over the summer, Talia wasn’t exactly glad to be at school that morning. Recently, her life had become a mountain of stress. Her son, James, was starting to exhibit behavior considered rather abnormal for a two-year-old boy. She could barely leave him alone for a second before he’d make a mess of trouble; lately, his favorite thing to do was chew on the new kitchen cabinets that Talia’s landlord had installed the previous year.

  That was another thing. Talia’s landlord, Danny, wasn’t just a landlord. He was her ex-boyfriend. They had been college sweethearts, and Talia had honestly thought they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. All her life, she’d wanted children, and she and Danny had worked so hard to get pregnant together. But when it hadn’t happened in a year, they’d gone to see a fertility specialist. To Talia’s shock (and horror), Danny was found to be infertile.

  “Ms. Roberson! Ms. Roberson!” One of Talia’s students ran up to her, excitedly flapping his arms in the air. “I drew you a picture!”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” Talia said, a little absentmindedly. “Thank you!” She crouched down to her student’s height and looked over the drawing. “Are these…bears?”

  “Yeah!” The boy grinned. “Mom and me went to a wildlife preserve over the weekend! And we saw bears!”

  Talia laughed politely behind a hand. “I think you mean a reserve,” she said softly. “preserves are like jam, what you put on toast.”

  “Toast bears!” The boy laughed and ran back to his desk.

  Talia stood up. Her head was beginning to ache, and something deep down inside her told her that this was going to be an unusually long Monday. She’d stayed up all night worrying about her situation.

  When they’d found out that Danny wouldn’t be able to make Talia pregnant, Talia had been devastated. Danny wanted a second opinion, and a third, and a fourth, and Talia didn’t want to be the one to point out that the first doctor was probably right. They went to see other doctors, anyway, and they all had the same result: no biological children for Danny.

  Talia was at a loss. She’d never expected to have this problem, and she felt like her time was beginning to run out. Even though she was only twenty-one, her own mother had experienced fertility problems later in life. Talia knew that if she wanted to have more than one child, she’d have to start immediately.

  One weekend, when Danny was out of town, Talia went to a sperm bank. She spent hours poring over the profiles, and eventually selected sperm from an engineer with a master’s degree in astrophysics. I want great things for you, Talia had said to her lower belly, closing her eyes and wishing hard. I’ll do anything to make sure you succeed.

  “Ms. Roberson!” One of the kids yelled, startling Talia out of her reverie. “Ms. Roberson, it’s reading time!” The rest of the kids cheered as Talia made her way to the front of the class. Each morning, she began with ‘reading time’ – ten or fifteen minutes of reading aloud from a chapter book. The kids loved it; this week the book was Swiss Family Robinson.

  Suddenly, Talia heard the high-pitched whine of an alarm. Her breath choked in her throat as she gazed wildly around the classroom. No! Talia thought in a panic. We’re not having a drill today! I didn’t know anything about a drill today!

  “In your special positions, class,” Talia called, struggling to be heard over the whine of the alarm. Some of her students were clearly terrified, with wide open eyes and their hands shoved in their mouths. To her relief, the more alert students got down on their hands and knees, crawling under their desks. Talia had to run around the room, helping the rest to their “places.” Secretly, Talia hated these drills. They didn’t do anything but make her students panic, and it was doubly hard to get the class back on track after they ended.

  “And you just had to do this first thing in the morning,” Talia grumbled under her breath as she took her place towards the back of the classroom by the door. The alarm was still ringing a klaxon shriek and she winced as her head began to throb. Surveying the classroom, she tried to keep her eyes on all of the kids at once. To her immense relief, they were all taking the drill seriously: each one of them was curled up in the fetal position, and no one was goofing off.

  From where Talia was standing, she could see that the lights in the hallways had been turned off. Fear and panic rose in her throat; that wasn’t normal protocol. Normal protocol called for the alarm to be disabled after only two minutes, and then a pulse would sound. That pulse was the teachers’ cue that all had returned to normal.