My Hunger to Bear (The Everson Brothers Book 5)

by Olivia Arran

  Ralph’s hands smoothed across my back, leaving trails of heat in their wake. Touch. I craved it, my body opening up and begging for more. This wasn’t a good idea.

  “I—” I didn’t manage to get the words out, because it would mean leaving his arms. I wanted to—I really did—but I was having a hard time convincing myself to comply. Instead, I found myself melting against him, reveling in the feel of him moving against me as we shuffled from side to side. My hands had originally landed on his back, but a quick check confirmed they were fast approaching his ass. Just one little squeeze… I tried to tell the voice no, but it wasn’t listening.

  My hands were on his ass.

  Wow.

  My knees were buckling.

  He held me up, his low chuckle muffled by my hair, his hand snaking up to curl at my nape, stroking and tickling.

  I told my hands to move, but they were quite happy where they were. Traitors. Calm warred with instant lust, the emotions churning inside of me until I couldn’t breathe. The spell broke and I stumbled away, wrenching my hands free and clear before they could do something completely inexcusable—like climb inside his pants. I closed my eyes. If I wasn’t looking at him, then he couldn’t work his magic, because it had to be that—some kind of shifter hormone inducing crazy mojo. I hated the guy, yet I wanted to rip his clothes off and do the naked dance right here, on the dance floor. I felt my forehead, certain I would find myself burning up, but I was cool. Slightly damp and icky, but no fever. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Even with my eyes closed, it was as if I could feel him in front of me. His concern radiating out and lapping at me in big stress inducing waves. “Unless you’ve got something new to tell me, then this is over. Whatever this is,” I added under my breath, feeling more than a little bit foolish talking with my eyes closed. So, I opened them.

  And caught the look of indecision as it flitted through his eyes.

  “Do you have something you’d like to share with me?” Through sheer strength of will, I kept the glimmer of hope from creeping into my voice. I didn’t know why I was bothering, but something was nagging at me; something felt all kinds of wrong. Ever since I’d let him back into my life, everything he’d done jarred with what I’d known about him. I was having a hard time convincing myself that this man—the one standing in front of me, who had saved me from the fire, helped me back on my feet, and had propped me up when I might have fallen—that he was the same man who’d hurt me so long ago.

  Or … I didn’t want to believe. That was it. At his continued silence, I nodded, more to myself than him. Ignoring the crushing sense of disappointment, I wiped my clammy hands down the sides of my dress, then stuck one out. “Thanks for letting me use your kitchen. See you around.” It sounded hollow. Tired. Exactly how I felt.

  He stared at my hand.

  “Okay, then,” I muttered, yanking it—and my dignity—back. I turned to leave, spinning back around at the last moment. “Do you know something? You’re a really hard man to read. I mean, I get it, okay? The strong, silent type. Very sexy. Probably works too. And sometimes you even do funny! Not very often, mind you. No, that would go against the treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen ethos you’ve got going on. I mean—”

  He took a step forward, putting us back within touching distance and caught the hand I was flailing around in the air. “Connie?” he growled. Yup. I’m serious—growled.

  “What?”

  “Stop talking.”

  I blinked at him, wondering if this was one of those times when he was trying to be funny, and very obviously missing the mark.

  He wasn’t smiling. Nope. He was giving me a look that had my toes curling and fantasy me doing cartwheels. Of the naked kind.

  Oh, and he was getting closer.

  I swallowed. I should move. Push him away. But wasn’t this what I’d really been hoping for? Why hadn’t I turned and walked away? One last kiss. He was a good kisser. Very good.

  “I said, stop talking,” he murmured, bringing his hand up under my chin and tilting it up.

  “I’m not,” I breathed.

  “Always arguing, even with yourself.” His breath tickled my lips, and there it was, the small smirk that had been missing.

  I liked his smirk. It was a part of him, without it he wasn’t—

  Thoughts obliterated, breaking apart into a thousand pieces as his lips brushed against mine, tender and soft. Blood rushed to my head as I teetered up onto raised tiptoes, reaching for his kiss. Our tongues darted out at the same time, tangling together in a slow slide, the kiss deepening, until I was lost. Reveling in the moment.

  He broke away before I was ready, my soft moan a denial.

  He rested his forehead against mine, his chest heaving. “You’re really going to leave?”

  The intimacy of the embrace should have had me running as fast as I could. I waited for it to feel awkward. Nothing. The world felt right. “I am.”

  “Then you don’t leave me with any choice.” His voice was thick with masked emotion.

  I pulled away, just enough so I could try and read him. Nothing. Not a hint. “Tell me.” Give me a reason to stay…

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ralph

  I was going to do it. I couldn’t let her leave, not without her knowing the facts. If there was the slightest chance she could forgive my part in this whole fucking thing, then I’d take it. I’d tried everything else, but time had run out. For me, and for her. “Not here.” Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guided her out of the filled to bursting room and into the kitchen, which was surprisingly quiet. Had to be the only fucking cooks allowed sign on the door. That, and the trespassers will be eaten sticker with a great big fucking bear’s head on the top. Steeling myself, and buying some time, I walked her over to the small table and gestured that she sit down.

  She refused.

  Color me not fucking surprised.

  My mate had a rebellious streak in her a mile wide. It was amazing. She was amazing.

  She folded her arms and stared at me, her foot tapping out a rhythm on the floor that she probably wasn’t aware of.

  Like a bandaid, man. “Your father asked me to buy his business.” See? I’m not really a bad guy. “So, there you go.”

  “And the rest?”

  Why didn’t she seem surprised? “You already knew?”

  Tilting her head, she lifted a shoulder. “No. But I knew something wasn’t right. Really, I’m freaking out right now, so let me have it. All the details. Don’t hold anything back.”

  Ah, so this was her poker face. I decided I preferred her I’m-angry-don’t-fuck-with-me face, at least then I knew what she was feeling. Then, it hit me. We’d kissed and I’d forgotten all about it. The soul mate bond. It had started years ago and I’d gotten so used to walling it off, trying to stay sane while she rejected me time and time again, I’d not checked it.

  I closed my eyes, searching for the thin strand that linked us together, not yet fully formed. There. It pulsed red and purple, filled with fear and dread. And lust. And anger.

  “Look at me.”

  Her demand had my eyes flying open. “Sorry.”

  She squeezed her arms tighter, as if bracing. “Just tell me, dammit! It can’t be as bad as I’m imagining.”

  Sorry, old friend. If there was any other way… “Your father gambled and drank. He lost everything and bad people were threatening to … hurt him.” And you, I added silently. That had been the deciding factor, why I had agreed to play along. “I bought his business for a lot more than it was worth and he used to money to pay his debts.”

  “But…” Her voice trailed off, sounding lost and bewildered.

  I sighed, picking at a piece of cotton on my cuff. “I offered him the money, no strings attached, but he was too proud. Said he would buy it back off me, and that was the plan. I was only looking after it for him.”

  “But, why did he lie to me? Tell me to stay away from you?”

  “I hon
estly don’t know. He knew what I was, maybe he didn’t like his daughter getting involved with a shifter? Maybe he didn’t want to admit to you that he’d messed up? Then he died and it was too late.”

  “You could have told me!”

  “What? That your father was an addict? That he’d lost everything? That you should believe me, and not the man who had raised you, that you had just fucking lost? You were hurting, kid. I couldn’t do that to you. And then it was too late. There was no chance you’d change your mind about me, listen to what I had to say. I didn’t have any proof, still don’t.” And there was the crux of it. She either believed me or she didn’t. My heart thudded in my chest, racing in time with her foot which was still tap-tap-tapping on the floor.

  “My father left me money. I bought the bakery,” she whispered, her cheeks deathly pale and hands scrunching into little balls.

  I resisted the urge to look away. “I wanted you to be okay. He would have gotten back on his feet eventually, he just ran out of time. It’s what he would have wanted.”

  Silence hung heavy between us, the sound of the party filtering through the closed door, muted and out of place.

  “His pride was more important to him than me. Than my future happiness.” Bitterness soured her words, her lashes dusting her cheeks as she gazed at the floor.

  Wait. Did this mean—? “You believe me?” It came out a hoarse rumble, barely intelligible.

  Her chin thrust out, her back straightening. “I knew he gambled.”

  What the fuck? “You did?”

  “I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought he’d come to me if he couldn’t handle it. We were a team, you know, ever since my Mom died it was just me and him against the world. I didn’t judge him for it. I knew he needed something to see him through the dark times, but … I thought he’d come to me! Instead, he kept it all from me, couldn’t trust me enough to understand and still love him. He made me hate you!” Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling as she bit down hard.

  I didn’t hesitate, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight. “Shhhh, it’s okay.” Inside I screamed, the pain of hurting her tearing me apart and shredding me to pieces. This wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have told her.

  She sobbed for minutes, hours, who the hell knew. Who cared. I held her in my arms. It was my own personal brand of hellish heaven.

  “Thank you.” Her whisper was nearly lost against my chest, sandwiched between two hiccups. “You never left me, even when you had every reason to walk away.” It was a soft whisper.

  She always hiccupped when she cried. Rage lit a fire inside of me, but this time it was directed at someone else. Her father. It sizzled out as fast as it had started, the utter hopelessness of being angry at a ghost filtering through my rage. “I would never leave you. I can’t.”

  She took a deep breath, the shudders finally stilling. “Is kid my new nickname?”

  I scrunched up my nose, not that she could see me, while trying to keep up. “No.”

  “What is it then?” She was still snuggled against my chest, her nose pressing into my sternum.

  I chose my next words very fucking carefully, “That depends.”

  She leaned back, my cryptic comment drawing her out. With eyes rimmed with red and cheeks blotchy with some kind of black streams, she frowned at me. “What? You’ve run out of ideas?”

  “Never. I’m the master of nicknames.”

  “And clever come backs.”

  I gave her an aw shucks grin. “You think I’m clever?”

  She pinched my waist and I pretended it hurt. “Quit changing the subject. What does it depend on?”

  “Whether you’re planning on hanging around or not.” There. I’d done it. Pinned my heart on my sleeve, ready for her to rip it to shreds.

  She pursed her lips, as if considering it.

  “Would a kiss help you make up your mind?”

  “Is that your bear talking, or you?” I knew she was referring to the fact that my voice sounded like a cross between a wild animal and a caveman with very good diction.

  “Both. We need you.” Didn’t she know that I was about two seconds away from putting her over my shoulder and carrying her away, back to my cave—sorry, room.

  “Oh!” she gasped.

  Yeah, I really wasn’t great at this whole declaring love thing.

  “A kiss would be a good start,” she ventured with a small smile.

  “Start?” Hope was building inside of me.

  “Of us.” It came out a squeak.

  “Us?” My hand slid down her back to rest on the swell of her ass.

  “Is there an echo in here?”

  “Funny.”

  “I try. So, what happens now?”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from repeating her words, but surely she didn’t mean… “Please explain exactly where you’re going with this as I’m having a little trouble keeping up.” There. No echoing. I grinned, feeling pretty pleased with myself, then she spoke.

  “The true mate thing.”

  My response was a splutter.

  Sliding her hand up to cup my jaw, she met my eyes. “I’ve known you for years, Ralph. We’ve loved, fought, hated, cried, laughed, and mourned together. But, I’ve always known you. Turns out, you’re the only one in my life who has truly looked out for me, no matter the cost. Why would I want to waste another second without you?”

  The blurry sting wasn’t from tears, it was from the light. Funny angle reflecting off the oven. That had to be it. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  “I know. Underneath everything, I’ve always loved you, too. I think that’s one of the reasons I could never … you know … with anyone else.” She blushed a vivid pink, her mouth twisting in grimace.

  “You…” My mouth dropped open as her meaning became clear. Sweet motherfucking hell. She was a virgin?

  “I mean, I’ve done stuff, but I’ve never … I met you when I was seventeen.” She said it like it explained everything. And it did.

  It also had my cock thickening and balls ready to explode. Smoothing back her hair, I took a deep breath. “Does this mean you’re staying? Are you sure—?”

  “It sounds like you’re the one who’s having second thoughts.”

  I bit back the grin at her snappy reply. My Connie was back. “Nope. Shall we go say goodbye and then we can take this upstairs?” This was it; she was everything I’d ever wanted.

  Twisting her finger into my loosened tie, she tugged me down until my mouth was level with hers. Her eyes narrowed as she perused my face with a sultry smile. “What’s wrong with here? Now?”

  I was grinning so hard, my cheeks hurt. “Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” Striding over to the door, I flicked the lock. In seconds I was back with her, our mouths locked together, the air between us sparking with friction and lust as we tore at each other’s clothes. Easing her zipper down, I smoothed her silk sheath dress to her hips, the fabric slipping through my fingers and pooling around her feet, leaving her clad in scraps of lace and skyscraper heels.

  My tie flew across the kitchen, buttons popping off my shirt as she yanked hard.

  My fingers dug into her hip, holding her against me as I deepened the kiss, drinking down her breathy moans and coating myself in her sweet scent.

  Her blunt teeth nipped at my lip, her fingers working on my pants, her other hand smoothing over my straining shaft with an enthusiasm that had me pulling away.

  She pouted at me.

  I stared. My imagination hadn’t come anywhere near. Her breasts were large and round, overflowing her lacy cups. Her curves were rolling valleys of smooth skin, unfettered and unrestricted, just waiting for my hands to tease and stroke. Soft, pillowy thighs waited to cradle me. “Turn around, beautiful.” It was a croaked demand, but I had to see.

  She didn’t move, so I did, stalking around her like a man on a mission. Damn. I’d died and gone to heaven. Her ass swelled out, each cheek perfectly rounded and
begging for my touch. I dropped to my knees.

  “What are you doing?” She sounded panicked, but she didn’t move.

  “Worshiping,” I murmured, smoothing my hands over her buttocks and then down the lace covered cleft. Sliding my fingers between her legs, I pressed gently.

  Her resulting moan was everything I needed to know. “I’m going to take care of you, my love.” I rubbed my finger back and forth, hooking them around to massage the tiny little nub that would soon be the center of her world. Moisture seeped through her thin panties, her breathing heavy and labored high above me.

  Her knees buckled on a groan, her hands reaching behind to dig into my skull.

  Gripping her hip, I rose to standing, steering her back to the small table, until her knees knocked the edge, not relenting in my rhythmic stroking.

  Her eyes were glazed and hooded, her skin flushed with desire as, at my coaxing, she leaned back flat.

  I fell to my knees again.

  Spreading her thighs, I trailed a finger over her plump flesh, inhaling her sweet scent as she blossomed for me. Hooking my thumbs into her panties, I inched them down, revealing her pussy in all its glory. Pink and ripe, her folds glistened, tempting me to taste. Above me she moaned, her hands coming to rest on my head and fingers threading through what was left of my hair.

  A tug, and the scrap of black lace was gone.

  “Ralph…” It was a throaty murmur; a plea.

  “Don’t rush me,” I growled, blowing softly across her mound, watching as her skin tightened with goosebumps. So sensitive.

  A sharp twinge at my scalp, her nails digging in and securing me in place. The lift of her hips as she sought me out, unconsciously seeking what only I could give her.

  “So pretty,” I murmured, sliding a finger through her slick folds and circling her entrance. “Has a man ever eaten your pretty pussy?”

  Her reply was a garbled groan as I slid my finger just inside, teasing her opening in unhurried circles.