Sam (BBW Bear Shifter Wedding Romance) (Grizzly Groomsmen Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  She felt the stickiness of his seed, and smiled.

  “If we did, I won’t mind,” she said.

  She felt him sigh, but she felt more than relief in it.

  “Then I’m gonna hope we did, darlin’,” he said, confirming her guess as he nuzzled her ear, “’cause there is one thing I forgot to mention.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, though she didn’t really care at this point.

  “I love you.”

  Mel went still, and when she pushed herself up far enough to look down at him, she knew those golden eyes could see her tears even in the darkness.

  “What’s this?” he asked, gently brushing the dampness away with a tender caress of his thumb.

  “No one’s ever said that to me before,” she whispered, afraid to break the spell.

  “You’re just gonna have to get used to it, darlin’,” he said, suddenly serious.

  “Okay.”

  “Only okay?” he asked, frowning.

  “I can get used to it, because I love you, too.”

  He took a deep breath then his smile grew and spread until it lit his eyes.

  “Okay, then.”

  She giggled, but then he pulled her head down and went back to the serious business of kissing her. She contracted her muscles around him, felt him begin to grow hard within her again, and the world went away once more.

  Bearly Mended

  Big Paw Security Book IV

  by

  Becca Fanning

  “I have to pee,” Doctor Zoe Flynn said, more to herself than to the man lying in the hospital bed in front of her. He wouldn't be responding anyway; he'd been brought in yesterday covered in blood, suffering from heat exhaustion and dehydration. The man, the shifter, had been passed out for nearly his whole duration in the hospital. By the time she had been called in, he had been out for hours. She checked his IV's, ensuring that he was getting the vital fluids he needed to make a quick recovery. These shifters were tough, but this man, Russell G. McGregor, if his given name was real, had been pushed to his limits. “I really have to pee.”

  Zoe glanced at the patient bathroom. It was against protocol for hospital employees to use the patient's bathrooms, for all sorts of reasons, but she didn't figure Russell would mind. He would be out for another day or so. No one would ever have to know. Still… she hesitated. Zoe prided herself on being a by the books doctor: following every protocol, working up her charts perfectly, spending long nights studying newly developed techniques and ideas, and generally being someone new residents could look up to.

  Still….

  She did a quick calculation in her head. She would have to go down the hallway, cut left at the nurse's desk, following that hallway to the elevator. If she didn't have to wait long, which was always a gamble, the elevator ride took about 30 seconds. Another couple of twisty hallways and she would be in the employee's bathroom, if, and that's a big if, it wasn't full already.

  I could take the stairs, she thought. That would cut off the time spent waiting on the elevator. A gamble, as always. She regretted drinking those extra cups of coffee to keep her going through her shifts. She hesitated again, burning her valuable time.

  And then she was off, meaning to head straight past the patient bathroom. Instead, as she reached it, she glanced out in the hallway. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she ducked inside, closing the door silently behind her. The light hummed on automatically, bathing her in the sickly hospital light that she hated so much. She would be out of the bathroom in a few seconds, though. No harm, no foul.

  She had just sat down when she thought she heard someone moving in the room. Her heart started to beat in her chest, but after a few seconds of straining to hear and being rewarded with silence, Zoe calmed down. She reassured herself that there was no one else in the room, and Russell certainly couldn't be up and around by now.

  She closed her eyes, relief flooding her body. She had thought her bladder might burst. Lost in herself, she heard someone mutter, “Damn it!” Zoe flashed her eyes open, looking at the door. It was opening! Someone was going to catch her!

  She caught a flash of a patient's hospital gown, – she didn't know whether that was good or bad – before she got a full look at the patient's ass. Despite everything going through her mind, she had enough time to give it a lengthy and appreciative glance.

  He was trying to move into the room and Zoe realized his IV cords were caught on the door handle. “Damn it,” he muttered again, pulling hard and finally untangling his cords. He turned, his toned cheeks sadly turning away from her, and his eyes found her.

  She screamed. He yelled, his golden eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. She covered herself with a hand between her legs, the other in front of her in the universal, “Don't look!” signal. When he kept looking, she screamed again, louder. He stumbled backwards, still weak, his legs tangling in the cords, and he went down.

  Her screams died in her throat as his yells became moans of pain. He rubbed his head, closing his eyes, the room silent for a few moments except for her. Zoe was beet red, her ears burning so hot she thought they might activate the sprinklers. Why hadn't she locked the door? She always locked the door. Well, not always, she rued.

  “What...” Russell managed. “What… are you doing here?”

  “I had to use the bathroom,” Zoe replied, finishing up and getting instantly defensive. “If you would have knocked, all of this could have been avoided.”

  “It's… my bathroom, Doc,” he said, a weak hand on the sink, trying to lift himself up. She got up, the toilet flushing automatically, helping him stand. Together, they stood without saying a word, extremely close in the small room. “Uh, can I get a moment?”

  “What?” she asked, mind still racing on what had just happened. “Oh, yeah! Sorry!”

  Zoe moved out of the bathroom, stealing one last peak backwards, catching a glimpse of his butt. She waited for what seemed like five minutes before the toilet finally flushed and he came out of the bathroom, slowly. He walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

  “Well, I'm feeling better than I was,” he offered. “Guess I pushed myself too hard these past few days. I'm guessing I have you to thank for my speedy recovery?”

  “Yes. I'm Doctor Flynn. Zoe. Sorry we had to meet under those circumstances. I didn't think you would wake up.”

  “Not the worst way I've ever met a woman,” he said, turning his attention to the IVs attached to him. He squinted at one, before continuing, “Hmm. Not what I would have went with.”

  “What? That's what we give to all patients. What are you talking about?” Zoe asked, feeling defensive again. Was he questioning his treatment? What could this man possibly know about medical treatment?

  “Doc, I'm not one of your usual patients. I'm a bit more resistant to drugs. You weren't expecting me up for a couple more hours, maybe even a day?” When she nodded, he continued, “I guess you don't see a lot of shifters in here. Well, if you do have to treat more, you're going to want to up the dosage of the nutrients and vitamins. Maybe even the sedatives if you want to keep us under for longer.”

  “I don't think you're qualified to be giving me medical advice, Mr. McGregor. I'm a trained medical professional with years of experience. A lot of patients think they know better than their doctor, and they never do.”

  He laughed. He actually had the gall to laugh at her! Her defenses were back up, her embarrassment burned away in a flash of anger that she felt at him. She'd had patients yell, scream, call her a bitch, and everything else under the sun when she told them she was more qualified with administering her care than they were. But she'd never had someone laugh. Still, she had to admit that she liked the sound of his laugh, even if she didn't like what he was laughing about.

  “What's so funny?” she huffed.

  “Hey Doc, call me Russ. And from doctor to doctor, you need to work on your bedside manner,” Russ said, laughing again.

  “You're a doctor? I've heard that
one a few times. Well, Doctor Russ, where did you get your medical degree?”

  “Nowhere you would know.”

  “Exactly,” she said, crossing her arms.

  He opened his mouth for his rebuttal, but froze. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring. Without a word, he grabbed her by her shoulders, peering out of the room. She attempted to fidget away, unsure of what was going on, but his grip was like steel.

  “What floor are we on?” he asked, eyes still locked down the hallway. She tried to turn around, but he held her firmly. When she didn't answer, he repeated his question.

  “The fourth.”

  “Fourth,” he said, pulling away from her, musing over what she had said. “I can survive that.”

  “What?” she asked. “What??”

  In answer, he moved away from her, trying to open the window. It only opened a crack, so he unattached his IV lines, picked up the cart, and tossed it through the window with a loud CRASH!

  “Oh, shit. That's far,” he muttered, turning back to her and grabbing her. He took a few steps backwards to the window. Zoe's heart was thumping in her chest. He was going to throw her to her death!

  “I'm sorry! I believe you're a doctor! Is that what you want to hear?” she asked, nearly hysterical. “I shouldn't have used your bathroom! Don't kill me for it!”

  “I'm not going to kill you,” he said, his voice suddenly turning dark. Turning dangerous. “But those guys might. Do you know them?”

  He allowed her to turn around. Two barrel-chested men were moving down the hallway, dressed in dark colors. One was pulling a large rifle from underneath his coat and the other was pulling a round object from a pocket. What is that? She couldn't make it out.

  “Who are they?” she asked, realizing she was trembling all over.

  His nostrils flared before answering, “Don't know. They're not human and they're after you. It's your lucky day, Doc.”

  “Mr. McGregor! Russ! What are we doing?”

  In answer, Russ climbed onto the window sill, glass crunching under his bare feet. He winced in pain but pulled her up behind him. She watched the men coming straight at them, one throwing the round object: grenade, she thought. The other raised his rifle. In stark clarity, she saw his finger squeeze the trigger, saw the texture of the grenade, and saw the darkening sky opening up around her.

  “Russ!” she screamed, and they were falling out of the building, falling towards their deaths. The crack of the rifle filled the air as they fell, but she wasn't hit. Only a split second after they dropped below the window, there was a gigantic, WHOOSH! The room above her exploded, stealing her breath. Zoe attempted to scream, but no sound came out.

  And they were still going to die. She heard Russ yell, his voice turning loud and primal. His hands lengthened, his body thickened, hair growing around her body. Oh, my God! What is happening? Zoe wondered, and then with a bone crunching stop, they hit the ground.

  There was pain and darkness. Zoe hadn't been knocked out, not exactly, but she was sore and groggy. Her memories were jumbled. What had happened? She felt hot air across her face, felt something wet coating her, felt a warm blanket settling over her body. Hot air? Wetness? A blanket? What was going on?

  It all came back to her at once and she snapped her eyes open. A massive bear was resting on top of her, gently, enough not to crush her. His tongue lapped at her face and she screamed again. The bear roared in surprise, moving off of her.

  She scrambled away from the bear, watching the massive creature shrink, his fur receding, his claws morphing back into fingers. Within seconds, Russ stood in front of her, a hand covering his package – a nice package, she had enough time to think – before he was coming towards her, grabbing her by her hand.

  “We've got to get out of here. They didn't fire on us when we fell, so they must already be coming down to finish off the job,” he said, tugging her forward. “Can I have your coat? Do you have a car?”

  She nodded, peeling off her doctor's coat and handing it to Russ. He gratefully took it, covering his naked body. Without it, Zoe suddenly felt naked. Every time she took off her doctor's uniform, she felt like she was someone else. The cold wind howled through the cars as they moved through the parking lot, the steel gray sky threatening one last dusting of snow before nightfall.

  “This way,” she said, leading her way towards the parking garage looming on the far side of the parking lot. She nervously glanced backwards, expecting to see the two men closing on them, but all she saw was the bloody footprints Russ was leaving in the snow.

  They reached her car in record time, taking the stairs up the garage two steps at a time. Russ offered to drive, but Zoe shook her head. “You have to baby it. Not just anyone can get it started.”

  When they reached her car, Russ said, “I see what you mean.”

  Zoe's car was over 20 years old, an old beater that had been handed down through her family. It was small, the paint a dull red, windshield cracked. She opened the door, yelling, “It's unlocked!” to Russ, while he stood around nervously in her doctor's coat, eyes scanning the garage.

  He hopped in, barely fitting in the seat even when he slid it all of the way back. In crunched under his weight, his eyes going wide at the sound, but held.

  “Hey! Treat her nice! She's done a lot for me!” Zoe ordered. She pressed the gas to the floor, once, twice, then turned the key over on the third press, just like she'd been doing for years. Nothing happened.

  “What's going on, Doc?” Russ said. “They're here! If you don't get this car started, we're dead!”

  “Hold on, hold on!” she yelled, trying again. Nothing. Her heart was thumping in her chest. “Can't you go out and stop them? You can turn into a bear, for God's sake!”

  “So can they. And after my recent hospital stay and my attempt at flying, they'll shred me like a rabbit. Then they'll shred you. So get the car started!”

  In her rear-view mirror, she saw the men appear at the stairs. This is it, she realized. She stomped her foot on the gas, harder than normal, cranking the key over. The car stuttered, almost starting, the ignition finally catching, and then the car roared to life. Zoe jammed it into reverse, gunning out of the parking spot. One of the men had come close, a pistol outstretched, and he jumped sideways as Zoe clipped him. He fell to the ground as she put the car in drive, speeding downwards through the garage.

  Glancing behind her, she saw the two men turning the opposite direction, moving downwards to cut her off. She came around the bend and they were standing there, waiting for her. The man with the rifle raised the weapon, aiming at her.

  “Get down!” Russ yelled, forcing her below the windshield. Bullets exploded through the windshield, glass shattering and covering her. The headrest where her head had previously been was shredded, thick foam floating through the air. The firing stopped suddenly. Zoe and Russ looked up.

  The man with the gun was reloading and the other man was… a bear. “Oh, no! He's blocking the way!”

  “Hit him!” Russ bellowed.

  “I can't!”

  “Hit him!” Russ said, grabbing her knee and forcing her foot down on the accelerator. The car picked up speed, barreling down the ramp. The other man dove to the side as they approached the bear, who stood up and roared. In the instant before they collided, Zoe thought she saw surprise on the shifter's face.

  With a sickening thud and the squeal of crumpling metal, Zoe's tiny car crashed into the bear. He dented the front right quarter panel, shattering her headlight before rolling into the windshield. Already weakened from the gunfire, it shattered under his weight, the frame in front of Russ bending inwards. And then just as quickly as he'd been on the front of the car, the shifter was gone, rolling over the hood and denting it. Then he was on the ground, still, as Zoe guided the car out of the parking lot, into the gloom. They drove in silence, Zoe's hands shaking on the wheel, one headlight piercing the night.