Bear Meets Girl

by Shelly Laurenston

  “Over here,” he ordered, walking Cella around the big couch until they reached the already lit fireplace. “On your knees, ma’am.”

  He saw her head turn slightly, like she was about to look back at him, but she stopped, and instead slowly went down on her knees. He grabbed a pillow from the couch and dropped it in front of her. “Put your face down there and get your ass in the air.” When she hesitated, “Now, ma’am.”

  Cella licked her lips—making him absolutely crazy!—and bent down, resting her cheek against the pillow and moving around until she could easily get her ass higher up. Her hands were still cuffed behind her back and he wondered which of them was more turned on by that.

  Crush unzipped his jeans, making sure to do it in front of her and to do it slow. Then, taking his time, he walked around behind her and dropped to his knees.

  “I’m sure you understand why it has to be this way, ma’am.”

  He heard Cella chuckle. “For your safety and mine?”

  “Exactly. And do you know why I’m doing this?”

  “No.”

  “Because you lied to me.” He reached over to the jacket she’d worn into the room and picked it up off the couch. He dug into the pockets until he found the smuggled items. “You don’t think I saw what happened between you and that She-wolf?”

  “Those aren’t mine,” she quickly lied, her surprised laughter nearly slipping out. “She must have slipped them into my pocket.”

  “Don’t make it worse by lying to me, ma’am.” Crush finally located what he was looking for and pulled out the strip of condoms that Smith had laughingly handed Cella after the feline had asked for them.

  “This is contraband,” Crush said, holding it up. “I can’t ignore this.”

  “Can’t you just let me go?”

  “No, ma’am. I really can’t.” And he meant that more than he could have realized. “I can’t let you go. I definitely can’t let this go.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ve been very bad. Punishment seems the only correct response.”

  Deciding to keep his clothes on, Crush lowered his jeans and boxers just enough to get his cock out. He took a moment to slip on one of the condoms before he completely forgot and was balls-deep inside Cella Malone.

  He moved closer in, pressing his thighs against the back of her legs so that she could feel the denim against her bare flesh, knew that he was taking her while fully dressed. Holding his cock, he rubbed it against her pussy, smiling when he saw that she was even wetter than she had been when he’d made her come.

  Her body tensed and she suddenly announced, “I think I’ll need to put up a fight.”

  “I see you’re not going to make this easy, are you, ma’am?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Crush reached forward and slipped his hand into her hair, his fingers gripping the silky strands until she knew he held her. Then he tightened his grip a little more until she gasped. He pressed his cock against her.

  “Feel free to scream, ma’am. No one will stop me. I am the law.”

  Then Crush shoved his cock home and he doubted he’d ever want to leave again.

  Cella didn’t know which was driving her wilder. The flat, “I’ve been a uniform cop for twenty years” voice, the fact that he still had on his clothes, that he understood exactly what she wanted with her only giving him hints—or the feel of his big cock taking current residency inside her pussy?

  Fuck it! It was all driving her wild.

  So wild she could barely see straight, her hands wiggling in those cuffs, her body writhing beneath his. Especially when she realized he hadn’t moved. He’d entered her, but now he was just ... there. Waiting. Letting her feel every amazing inch of him.

  Unable to wait any longer, Cella squeezed her muscles, grinning when she heard him gasp and the muttered curse. Then his hands moved to her waist, holding her steady as he took her hard.

  Yet even as he plowed into her, her wrists bound, taking what he wanted from her, Cella realized that she’d never felt safer before. More cared for.

  And it was when she understood that, knew the truth of it, that she suddenly came without warning. Considering it was her second orgasm in a short amount of time, she usually needed what she liked to call a little clit love. But here she was, exploding all over the man, her body shaking and nearly twisting out of his hands. Then he was coming right behind her, the hands on her hips turning to claws, digging into her flesh but stopping before any real damage could be done.

  While Cella tried to get her breath back, the bear removed the cuffs, his hands rubbing her wrists. He stretched out on the floor and Cella collapsed on top of him. They lay in silence for long minutes until Cella admitted, “You have the biggest cock ...”

  Crush laughed, his hand slipping into her hair, massaging her scalp. “Why, thank you.”

  “Just felt I should share that.”

  “I have to admit, Cella, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your after-sex pronouncements.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Cella crawled over the bear, landing on his chest and bouncing up and down until he woke up.

  “Must you do that?”

  “Yes.” She laughed, kissed his neck. “I have to get to the Sports Center.”

  “No,” Crush whined, reaching for her. “Stay with me here.”

  Cella batted off his hands. “Do you really want me to tell the Marauder that I didn’t show up for a game because I was busy having sex with you?”

  “He’s all about personal responsibility. He’ll blame you, not me.”

  “You bastard.” She pinched his nose and covered his mouth until she felt she’d gotten her message across.

  “Now,” she said once she’d released him and he could breathe, “are you coming to the game tonight?”

  “Of course, I am. It’s my team. And the Marauder’s playing.”

  She covered his nose and mouth again, not letting him push her off until she was sure she’d really gotten her message across. “Are you coming to the game tonight?” she asked again.

  “How could I ever dream of missing you play?”

  “See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

  She kissed him and scrambled off before he could grab her and pull her back. “Do you need tickets or anything?”

  “Nope. I’m meeting Conway at the Sports Center.”

  “But you are coming to the locker room after, right?”

  “Can I bring Conway and totally show off that I’m gettin’ it on with Bare Knuckles Malone?”

  “What kind of pretend girlfriend would I be if I didn’t let you do that?”

  “So we’re still going for the pretend, eh?”

  “Yep. I’ll see you after the game.”

  He grumbled something and turned over.

  Cella stopped outside the bedroom to find Lola standing there. She’d had Tommy pick up the dog and bring it, her, whatever, to the hotel room. And Crush had been so happy when he’d seen her that Cella just knew she’d have to really face the fact that the man had a dog and that dog, no matter how unattractive, would always be around.

  Cella stepped aside and gestured to the bed. “Well, go on. Since I’m not there.”

  Lola ran past her, but the poor thing couldn’t leap up on the bear-sized king with those short legs. So Cella, her lip curled in disgust, slipped her hand under that chubby ass and hoisted her onto the bed.

  Then, without even a thank-you, the dog ran and cuddled up next to Cella’s bear, burrowing against his chest.

  Wishing she could do that herself, Cella forced herself to leave and head down to the lobby. Mario the driver waited right outside, smiling when he saw her approach.

  “Hello, Miss Malone.”

  “Hi, Mario.”

  She handed over her equipment bags to Mario and settled into the backseat. She’d just started to relax when her cell phone went off. She dug it out of her backpack and looked at the text messa
ge.

  GOOD LUCK TONIGHT, SEXY.

  Grinning, Cella texted back:

  I BETTER SEE YOU LATER. YOU KNOW HOW I AM AFTER A GAME. HEH.

  “Yep,” Cella told Mario. “Best pretend boyfriend ever.”

  “Oh, come on, Miss Malone,” Mario playfully shot back. “Pretend boyfriend, my butt. Everybody at KZS knows you’re dating that bear.”

  “It’s not official or anything,” she argued.

  “Lame.”

  “Shut up, Mario.”

  They reached the Sports Center pretty quickly considering it was nearly rush hour, and Mario parked right by the front doors.

  Once Cella had all her equipment, Mario patted her shoulder. “Good luck tonight, Miss Malone.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Will I be picking you up after the game?”

  “I’m not really sure. I’ll text you.” She walked off, heading toward the exclusive entrance. A wolf security guard was holding the door open for her when she suddenly stopped and looked over her shoulder.

  “Everything all right, Miss Malone? Miss Malone?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”

  Cella took one more look around, but didn’t see anything. It was just a feeling. Letting out a breath, she headed inside, smiling at the wolf still watching her. Once in the hallway, she put down her stuff and pulled out her cell phone. She hit her speed-dial and waited.

  “Smith.”

  “It’s Cella.”

  “Yep.”

  “I think someone’s following me.”

  Smith was silent for a moment, then said, “You at the Sports Center?”

  “Yeah. And my father and Crush are going to be here tonight.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Crush impatiently stood in line with Conway. Usually he was impatient to see the game. But for the first time he could remember, he was impatient for the game to be over so he could see a woman. Not just any woman, either. But a foul-mouthed little feline with what his foster mother would have called “unsavory family connections.” Like Peg Baissier was British royalty or something.

  “You’re really liking this girl, aren’t you?”

  “I specifically like her because she’s not a girl.”

  “You mean because she’s a feline?”

  Crush remembered to hold his temper in. “Because she’s a woman.”

  “Girl. Woman. What’s the difference?”

  “Ask your wife that. When the swelling goes down, let me know how well she took it.”

  Conway chuckled. “Chay’s just glad you’ve found a girlfriend.”

  “Pretend girlfriend.”

  “Are you having sex with her?”

  “None of your business.”

  “That’s a yes, otherwise you’d just say no. You’re one of those honest guys.”

  “You make that sound wrong.”

  “Depends. And if you’re having regular sex with her, she’s not your pretend anything.”

  “I don’t know if we’re that serious yet.” Or maybe he just didn’t know if Cella was that serious. She was not an easy woman to figure out; he at least knew that much.

  While Crush was busy contemplating the extent of his relationship with Cella, he noticed that the crowd had grown disturbingly quiet. He looked at Conway, both of them frowning. Then he looked to his left—and into the cold blue eyes of the Marauder.

  “Uh ... hi?”

  The Marauder looked him over. “What are you doing?”

  Crush again looked at Conway, but his friend could only shrug.

  “Waiting to get my seat.”

  “But this is the line for the shitty seats.”

  A bit insulted, Crush looked down at his season holder ticket. “They’re a bit high up, perhaps, but I still see the game well enough.” There. That was well put.

  Well put for someone not The Marauder.

  “But they’re shitty seats. We call those the shit seats.”

  One of the males of the hyena clan standing behind Crush snapped, “Do you mind? We paid good money for these seats.”

  The polar bear–lion hybrid only turned his head, scowl turning him into something so fearsome Crush was glad the man had never become a criminal.

  “Did you just interrupt me?” Novikov asked the hyena.

  “What if I did?” the hyena demanded, and that’s when Crush remembered the idiot and his Clan members had already had more than a few beers between them.

  After years of being a beat cop, Crush went on instinct and grabbed Novikov seconds before those big hands were around the hyena’s throat. Conway kept the hyenas back by flashing his badge and eventually his gun.

  “You’re gonna be late for the game!” Crush reminded Novikov and the hybrid immediately stopped fighting and looked at his watch.

  “Shit!”

  He grabbed his equipment and motioned at Crush. “Well, come on.”

  Figuring he wanted Crush and Conway to keep the fans off him until he got to the locker rooms, Crush pulled his buddy and the pair followed after him.

  “What about our seats?” Conway whispered to him.

  “They’ll still be there when we get back.”

  “So what? We’re doing protection duty now?”

  “Stop whining.”

  “But it’s Minnesota,” he said about the team the Carnivores were playing against.

  “If you say that one more time ...”

  They followed Novikov into the elevator. The doors closed and the hybrid shook his head. “Do you know who I blame for this?”

  Crush was tempted to say, “Your bad temper?” but decided not to. The man was at least four inches taller and another sixty pounds heavier. Crush could shoot him, but what about the game?

  As always, Crush’s priority was his team.

  “Because of her. Because of Blayne Thorpe.” Novikov pointed at himself. “I’m never late. Never. And then I met her. And somehow she’s managed to get me involved in her crazy timetable. I’m always here three to four hours early so that I can practice and avoid the crowds. But I had to wait for her to get back from Long Island. Do you know why?” Rather than verbally answer, Crush and Conway just shook their heads. “Because she had a surprise for me. Do you know what kind of surprise?” Again, they went with the head shake. It seemed the safest bet. “China patterns! Do I look like I give a holy fuck about china patterns?”

  Still safe to go with the head shake.

  “And it doesn’t help she’s all cute and adorable and sweet. Last week, do you know what she brought into my house? My nice, pristine, perfect house? An alley cat. Not a cheetah. Or some leopard. An actual cat that lives in the alley behind my building. She wants to keep it. A cat! She’s a wolfdog and she wants to have a cat!”

  “Crushek has a dog and he’s a bear.”

  Novikov looked at him. “You have a dog?”

  “It’s just a foster.”

  “He’s said that for three fucking years.”

  “I want to make sure she gets the right home!”

  “Do you have other foster dogs?” Novikov asked him.

  “No.”

  “Then she’s your dog.”

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened. MacRyrie and Van Holtz stepped in with welcoming smiles. Then they saw Novikov. The smiling stopped.

  There was some snarling as the pair got settled and the doors closed. Crush saw MacRyrie nudge Van Holtz, then casually say to Novikov, “You’re kind of late.”

  Without missing a beat, Novikov threw down his equipment and the two bears went at each other. Crush and Conway grabbed Novikov from behind, trying to pull him off MacRyrie while Van Holtz did the same with the grizzly. The problem was, they were locked on and neither seemed ready to back off.

  Then the elevator stopped and the doors once again opened. That’s when Crush saw Cella standing there with Smith, Dr. Davis, and several of Cella’s female teammates.

  Smirking, Cella stared at the five males in the elevator before aski
ng the women with her, “Show of hands for anyone else who’s had this fantasy before.”

  He wasn’t exactly surprised when all those hands went up.

  Once off the elevator, Crush introduced her to his old partner. She was sure the man had a first name, but Crush only said, “This is Conway.” She didn’t bother busting his balls about it. She had the feeling it was a guy thing.

  “Everything all right?” she asked him.

  “Yep.” He smiled down at her. “Actually it’s better now.”

  “Awwwwww,” said the entire hallway filled with shifters.

  “He has a gun,” she announced. “I’ll let him use it.”

  When everyone went back to his or her own business, Cella went up on her toes and hugged the big bear. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She leaned back a bit, looking up into his face. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I believe I just saw Smith sidle on outta here. Why’s she lurking?”

  “Wow.” Cella was truly impressed. Most people, including Cella and even Van Holtz, never actually saw Smith go anywhere unless she wanted to be seen. The girl had a skill. Sissy Mae called her The Ghost. It was an accurate description.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’m probably just being paranoid.”

  “I’ve known a lot of paranoid people, Malone. You’re not paranoid.”

  “I felt like someone was following me.”

  “Then they probably were. Don’t worry. By the time the game’s over, you’ll have protection.”

  “But—”

  “No. Don’t wanna hear it.” Crush leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you after the game.”

  “Okay.”

  Conway came over to them, holding up a Carnivores T-shirt. “Check it out. I got like six team signatures.”

  “I thought you were a Minnesota fan.”

  Cella looked the coyote over. “You’re a Minnesota fan? Aren’t they all like bears?” She glanced up at Crush. “No offense.”

  “I am a Minnesota fan. But I can sell this bad boy for a fortune.”