The Gorilla Shifter’s Captive (BBW Paranormal Romance)

by T. S. Ryder

  She shook her head as he went to kiss her again. "I do have a present for you."

  "You do?"

  "Yes." Naomi detangled herself from his grasp. "But I have to go to the bathroom before I give it to you."

  She desperately held in giggles as she ran to the bathroom. There, she stripped off all her clothes and retrieved the extra-wide ribbons that she had had her sisters buy for her. Anne and Heather thought it was for wrapping a present–which it was, in a way.

  Naomi circled her hips with the ribbon, just barely covering herself before she wound it up over her stomach and covered her breasts. She finished it off with a bow, then checked out her image in the mirror. A bit hasty, a bit sloppy. But perfect all the same.

  Her heart beat fast when she stepped out of the bathroom. Joshua turned. His jaw dropped Naomi brushed her hair back off her shoulder and walked over to him, careful not to dislodge her ribbon.

  "So this is my present?" Joshua asked, eyes trailing over her.

  "Yes. I didn't have time for real shopping like you said, but I thought—"

  Joshua pressed a finger to her lips. He grinned. "Best Christmas ever."

  He tugged the loose end of the bow before slowly unwrapping her. His hands coasted along her skin as he did, pupils darkening. Everywhere he touched, Naomi's skin tingled. She would never grow tired of the feel of her mate's hands on her, the look in his eyes as he gazed at her body. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, running along his lips.

  Naomi couldn't help herself. She threw herself on her mate, kissing him hard, trying to catch his tongue. Joshua detangled the rest of the ribbon from her body and picked her up, her thighs parting to either side of his hips. Her core tightened. Fireworks began to pop in her brain.

  "Couch?" Joshua panted, holding her with one arm while he slipped his fingers between their bodies.

  "Too far," Naomi groaned. "Under the Christmas tree."

  The couch was only a step further than the tree but Joshua didn't argue. Kissing her deeply once more, he walked to the tree and laid her down on the red velvet skirt. The heady scent of fir filled her nostrils as he continued to work her, making fire run up and down her legs before it pooled in her legs. His mouth moved to her breath, making something snap pleasantly deep inside her. Naomi arched herself to her lover and mate, helping him as he discarded his own clothing.

  "So beautiful. So strong," Joshua murmured into her skin.

  "Stop talking about yourself and start talking about me," Naomi joked.

  Joshua redoubled his efforts, making her gasp. Somewhere in her own bursts and pools of fire, she managed to find him with her hand. They locked eyes as they pleasured one another. Joshua's face was set in determination, jaw locked, burning passion in his eyes. Sweat was already beading the edge of his blond hairline. Naomi grinned. She loved that after only a few weeks, she already knew her mate so well that she could give him exactly what he needed as he did the same for her.

  It was soon difficult to keep herself still. Naomi rocked from side to side, grunting with the effort to stay with Joshua, to avoid spiraling into the ocean of her climax. From the strain on his face, he was feeling the same. He gripped her thighs, spreading them further, and entered. Tremors shook up Naomi's body. As her mate laid over her, she clung to him, digging her fingers into his back. He kissed her hard, swallowing her whimpers.

  The rhythm he set was fast, desperate to bring them higher before they finished. Their hands roamed each other's bodies as though they had never felt anything before. Naomi's core was so tight it was almost painful. She flung her head back, writhing. His mouth dropped to her neck, sucking hard, and it sent her over the edge. Her hands clenched on her arms and her whole body tensed, bringing him with her.

  Joshua kept moving desperately for several more moments before he gave up and went still. They lay there for a long time, panting. Naomi closed her eyes, savoring the sweet feeling of their bodies still joined together.

  "Is it just me, or does that get better every time we do it?" Naomi asked, stretching lazily under her mate's body.

  Joshua grunted, nuzzling her neck. "Eventually we're going to find a peak. I hope you're not disappointed when we do."

  "Disappointed? No, I think we need to reach that peak soon. I don't think I'll survive if it gets better than that." Naomi laughed. "But maybe we can make this a tradition. Every year."

  "I'd like that." Joshua chuckled and kissed her, but broke off with a groan when Sapphira started crying from the bedroom. "I'll see if I can get her back to sleep so we can continue in with Christmas celebrations."

  Naomi sighed as Joshua rolled off her. He stood and tugged on his pants, but she wasn't sure her legs were strong enough to carry her just yet to follow. She stretched, smiling. A mate and a child, and Alpha of her pack. All within a month. It was overwhelming, how quickly it happened. But she wouldn't have it any other way.

  "She's hungry," Joshua called from the bedroom. "Can you get her a bottle?"

  "Sure." Naomi got to her feet as Joshua brought Sapphira out. She quickly made up a bottle before retrieving Joshua's shirt from the floor and pulled it over her head. As her mate began feeding their child, she grinned.

  "What are you smiling about?"

  She shook her head, unsure if she could explain herself properly.

  "Tell me."

  Her grin widened. "It's just that this is the best Christmas ever."

  Joshua grinned back at her. "I agree. Here's looking at many more to come."

  Naomi nodded. Yes, she was very much looking forward to what the future held in store for the two of them.

  *****

  THE END

  Bonus Book 3: The Billionaire Gorilla's Baby

  Description

  A curvy thief caught red-handed PLUS a hot billionaire who wants to make a deal PLUS a dangerous secret and an attack

  Scarlett Brenan does not steal. She's an acquisitionist. Stealing would imply she was taking things that could not be replaced, and that sort of behavior would be extremely ungentlewomanly.

  Yes, some still would call it stealing and she does have the moniker of the 'Gentlewoman Thief' in the newspapers, but she would never take anything from someone who didn't already have far more than they needed. Besides, she makes a point of redistributing her acquired wealth, so really she is in charitable work.

  Only one person, her mentor, knows of Scarlett's humanitarian efforts… until she is caught by billionaire Maximillian Barnes in his safe.

  Scarlett is certain her career is over until the handsome billionaire makes a deal with her. If she'll pretend to be his mysterious fiancée for one year, he'll give her whatever it is she wants and introduce her to his grossly rich friends for her future endeavors.

  But what starts as simple play-acting becomes far too real far too quickly… and Scarlett discovers a secret Max has been hiding for years that might just ruin the game.

  To make matters worse, somebody else out there knows Scarlett's identity, and that someone wants her dead.

  Chapter One

  Sounds of piano music and laughter wafted up the grand marble staircase to the fifth room on the right. Inside this particular room, a light breeze blew lace curtains in lazy circles while moonlight drifted through the window, shining directly into the room-sized wall safe. Jeweled necklaces, cufflinks and other trinkets sparkled in the wan light.

  Scarlett fixed a silver tiara on her head, admiring the way the pale metal contrasted with her dark hair. It was something she would very much like to take with her. She smiled as she imagined herself in a fancy dress wearing the tiara, like a princess out of a fairy-tale movie. Her fingers ran across necklaces and glittering, delicate rings left on the safe shelves.

  Why would a man like Maximillian Barnes have so much women's jewelry? He hadn't been seen photographed with a woman other than his elderly housekeeper in nearly five years, since the tragic death of his parents. Although he claimed to have a fiancée somewhere, the lack of evidence provided
by the media indicated that this fiancée was just a fabrication.

  Which could only mean that the necklaces and tiaras must have belonged to his mother.

  With a sigh, Scarlett set the tiara back on its stand, running her gloved hand over the large center ruby one last time. It was truly a work of art. No, she would leave the tiara. Even though she was certain it was insured for at least its monetary worth, if it belonged to Barnes' mother it would hold sentimental value, and she did not help herself to things that could not be replaced. If she took it, she'd have to destroy it if she meant to sell it, anyway.

  What she would take, however, were the stacks of bearer bonds in the safe. There had to be two million dollars' worth there, carelessly stuffed into the corner of the safe. They were hardly sentimental. Given that Barnes pulled in an estimated five billion annually, he wouldn't even miss this two million. He'd have gotten it back by the end of the week. Plenty of people out there deserved it more.

  Somebody new took over the piano downstairs, and Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the change of song. They were playing a 'modern' version of Mozart's Piano Sonata Number 3.

  Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. In her opinion, the classics ought to remain classics. This player was destroying all the complexity of the score, simplifying it for the repetitious strain of current pop music. It was enough to drive a gentlewoman to distraction.

  And distracted she was.

  She didn't hear the approaching footfalls on the carpet in the corridor outside, didn't see the hulking shadow lurking in the door. But he saw her.

  When the light flicked on and she turned to see Maximillian Barnes standing in the doorway with a surprised expression on his face, Scarlett was not afraid of being caught. Rather, she was upset with herself. If she was allowing her patrons to walk in on her while she worked, well, she was becoming too cocky. Arrogance was not attractive in a gentlewoman.

  And it certainly didn't help her current situation.

  "Whoever is butchering Mozart down there ought to be shot," she told the billionaire, emphasizing her southern drawl as she slid her bag, packed with her tools and acquisitions, onto her back. When people heard her accent, they generally thought she was stupid. And when people thought she was stupid, it was easier to get away with things. She kept her tone light and conversational. "I simply can't stay any longer and listen to that travesty. Goodnight to you, sir."

  With a smile and a wave, Scarlett darted to the window. She was fast–faster than she looked. Because her figure showed just how much she enjoyed cupcakes and hamburgers, people assumed that she was heavy-footed, slow and clumsy, the stereotypical 'fat girl' who couldn't possibly do things like scale a two-floor wall or leap between houses. They assumed wrong, though, and that usually worked to her advantage.

  Not this time. Barnes, too, was faster than he looked, and just as Scarlet reached the window, his arms wrapped around her waist.

  He was stronger than she realized as well–Scarlett's eyes widened as he lifted her bodily from the ground, twirling her away from the window. A hand the size of a dinner plate slapped over her mouth. Barnes carried her back to the safe, depositing her while he ripped her pack off her.

  "Sir, I insist that you release me at once!" Scarlet's voice was higher-pitched than normal, even as she tried to calm her pounding heart.

  Panicking would only make the situation worse.

  "You are an intruder in my house, madam," Barnes replied, with all the courtesy that his English accent demanded. He pulled Scarlett's handcuffs, only to be used in the most desperate of emergencies, from her pack and spun her around. "You have no right to make demands."

  Before Scarlett could fight back or even protest, he had slapped a cuff on one wrist, threaded it through a bar that protruded from the wall, and cuffed her other wrist. Scarlett's heart rate spiked; this could spell the end of her career or worse! Too late, she struggled, kicking at Barnes. He merely stepped out of her reach.

  It was no secret that another billionaire, Ken Madoc, had been searching for her ever since she entered his house to find two bodies stuffed into his safe. Barnes and Madoc ran in the same circles. If they were friends, it might as well be her body hidden away. She would probably never be found.

  Barnes calmly stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth, then removed his tie and gagged her with it. "I'm afraid I have to leave you now and attend to my guests. I will return when I can, and then we can talk."

  He closed the safe door, locking her in darkness.

  Scarlett twisted against her cuffs, panic threatening to overwhelm her. If he was going to call the police, he would not have gagged her. So either he did know Madoc, or he was going to handle her himself anyway. He probably thought he could get away with it–he was so rich, he probably could.

  This is why I hate people who have too much money. They think the world is theirs to command.

  She kicked around in the darkness, trying to locate her pack. Her lock-picking gear was inside and, if she could get it, then she could escape before Barnes returned to… what? Give her cement shoes and throw her in the nearest lake? Put a bullet in the back of her head?

  All her struggles were in vain. By Scarlett's reckoning, she was in the safe for an hour, no closer to escape than when he had first put her in, when Barnes returned. The sounds of partying below were gone, so Scarlett didn't bother screaming when he removed the gag from her mouth. She stared at him coldly as he picked up her pack and emptied it. At least he had the decency to sort things out into proper piles.

  "A newspaper clipping about a school in Queens being closed due to budget cuts?" he said at last. A grin grew on his face as he looked up. "You must be the Gentlewoman Thief."

  Scarlett nodded with all the grace she could muster.

  "I'm honored, madam." He bowed.

  "Thank you."

  Barnes began packing her things again. "I must say, I have been a great admirer of your work for some time. I especially enjoyed that letter you wrote to the newspaper over the nickname they gave you."

  Even though it was ungentlewomanly to scowl, Scarlett found herself doing just that at the mention of her former nickname. Kitty Cat Burglar. "That 'name' was nothing more than an attempt to both infantilize and sexualize me. It's disgusting."

  "As you said in your letter." Barnes' smile widened. "A scolding to the media for the way they portray women, especially young girls, as having worth only because of how sexually desirable they are. It was masterfully written."

  "Thank you."

  "Brains and beauty. A deadly combination." Barnes' gaze ran down her figure lazily, making her tense. He sensed her discomfort and returned his gaze to her eyes. "I have made you uncomfortable."

  "I don't like men ogling me when I'm restrained."

  "I apologize. It's just that you're not what I was imagining."

  Scarlett resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You were expecting a black spandex catsuit on a woman with no muscle definition but who still manages to have perfect perky breasts?"

  Barnes shrugged, completely unabashed. "Regardless of what I imagined, I am pleased to meet you. Am I correct in assuming that if I unlock you, you won't attempt to fight against me?"

  "Why would you assume that?"

  "Because your profession, your creed if you will, abhors violence. I have no doubt that you would be well able to defend yourself, but as you can see, I am carrying no weapons. I would like to talk with you, madam."

  Scarlett stared the man in the eye, trying to gauge his truthfulness. She had, of course, thoroughly researched Barnes before she came, like she always did since that disastrous incident with Madoc. Barnes seemed fairly honorable, for a man with as much wealth as he had. Despite her earlier fears, she didn't think that he was going to harm her. She eyed his massive arms and broad shoulders. She was stronger than she looked, but she would be no match for him in a fight.

  After a moment's consideration, she nodded. "We can talk."

  Barnes unlocked her cuffs and led he
r to a lavish study, where he poured her a glass of scotch. There was enough gold on the shelves to fill a hundred thousand teeth.

  "How does a girl like you end up as a burglar?"

  Scarlett scowled, though she accepted the glass. "That word is hardly appropriate."

  Barnes rose a brow.

  "If you know so much about me, then you must know my morals," Scarlett said. "I only take what ultimately won't be missed, and I make sure to donate at least seventy percent of my acquisitions to those who truly need it. That's hardly enough to be branded a burglar, like those people who come in with masks and guns and beat up homeowners."

  "Stealing is stealing. You may practice it without violence, but it's not a victimless crime."

  Scarlet felt herself bristling. "Crime? Do you want to talk about crime? Look around this room, Mr. Barnes. There is enough wealth in this single space for an entire family to leave poverty and send their children to university, so they don't waste away trying to pay their bills or debts in minimum wage jobs. You could stop babies from starving and people from serving jail time for 'stealing' what they need to survive. So tell me, what's the bigger criminal? Me, taking a little here and there from people who won't miss it, or you, stealing possibilities from future generations by hoarding your wealth?"

  Barnes took a sip of his scotch, an amused smile on his lips. "Your argument is flawed, but not baseless. I am not going to debate morals with you, though, Miss…?"

  "You may call me Scarlett."

  "Your last name isn't O'Hara, is it? Because with your southern accent—"

  "Brenan. You're going to turn me over to the police, anyway, so there is no point in keeping my name from you." Scarlett sighed as she drank. All the good she was doing, finished. Well, it was her own fault for being so careless. Her mentor would be appalled when he found out.