What a Bear Needs (The Wild Side)

Home > Other > What a Bear Needs (The Wild Side) > Page 11
What a Bear Needs (The Wild Side) Page 11

by Nikki Winter


  “Right,” Cree said slowly.

  He smiled at her. “You’re not convinced.”

  “Not in the least bit. As a matter of fact, I’m silently questioning if this is all some weird way to lure me into the lotus flower bomb special again.”

  “You may like it if you’d just bend—”

  “No.” She sliced a hand through the air. “Just…no.”

  Sighing, he pouted for all of five seconds. “The meditation is not a lure, Cree. It’s genuinely something that helped me during my stint as a blocker in high school. Before every game I’d focus my energy and thoughts on positive things.”

  “And it helped you control yourself on the field?”

  “No,” he responded shaking his head. “It helped me hone all my boar-rage into beating the fuck out of the first guy to say anything about my mother but because I’d meditated, the rage was focused and manageable.”

  “That sounds…psychotic.”

  “Hence the therapy sessions where I met the klepto,” he stated.

  “Maddox I’m not sure—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  The question was unexpected and clearly needed to be answered from the way he stared at her.

  “Yes.”

  His grin was slow and sweet. “Good.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I shouldn’t though, should I?”

  That grin widened. “Not in the least bit.” Leaning back, he patted his thigh and said, “Now come and sit on Mr. Hinckles’ lap.”

  She tried to run and failed epically.

  ***

  Maddox caught her and pulled her down. He then made her sit across from him and give him her hands. Cree’s answer to his adamant tone was pouting. He decided to ignore how incredibly cute that pout was and shake off the memory of the way she viciously bit her bottom lip while coming. There was no time for such thoughts. As of right now he had things to show her. Of course he had no fucking clue what those things were but his gut instinct told him that forcing her to face her beasts was the best course of action. She needed to understand that she wasn’t comprised of malevolent forces but created with the mind that her gifts would lead to incredible things. The gods had a purpose, no matter how selfish and narcissistic they could be.

  This would work; it had to work. He refused to accept any other possibility. Knowing Cree meant understanding the incomprehensible. It meant going places mentally that others were too afraid to tread. They held this fear because as pups and cubs they’d been taught that their particular brand of different was fine, right, and natural but her differences were strange, unfamiliar, and possibly detrimental. She’d allowed the hatred of a few to back her into a corner; she’d allowed it to drive her into a cage. He had every intention of releasing her from it because he wouldn’t sit aside and watch as she drifted into something inhuman. He wouldn’t let this thing change her but she could change this thing.

  “There was a time that I wasn’t as happy as I am now,” he murmured. “Puberty changes male bear cubs in a way that’s more than a little jarring; makes us angry, violent and senseless.”

  “So that’s when you started meditating?”

  He smiled. “No actually I started putting my fists through things and then I started meditating. Eventually, I evened out a bit and didn’t need to anymore.” Looking off for a second, he continued with, “At least not after discovering masturbation and all the joys of free porn.”

  “I don’t really want to have that conversation,” Cree replied slowly. “So can we get to the point of this?”

  Lips twitching, he told her, “I had to get in touch with my bear.”

  “I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to hear about your hob-knobbing.”

  Maddox chuckled and shook his head. “No, baby. I meant I sat in a quiet space, closed my eyes and searched for him.”

  Cree blinked. “That sounds so…sensible.”

  “Because it is sensible,” he stated.

  “It also sounds like a peyote walk.”

  His brows rose. “What now?”

  Her lips curled. “A peyote walk. It’s something old shamans often did when they wanted to understand what kind of heart they had, what their path truly was and what type of spirit animal they coincided with. Using a tea made from peyote—a small spineless cacti with psychoactive alkaloid—they would get a chemical substance that crosses the blood–brain barrier and acts primarily upon the central nervous system. From there it affects brain function. This results in changes of perception, mood, consciousness, cognition and behavior.” Her hands moved animatedly. “A heavy rumination would begin and they’d have what was almost an outer-body experience, giving them the opportunity to fully view the contents of their souls without damaging what was there.”

  He simply grinned.

  “What?” Cree said, suddenly unable to meet his stare.

  “You’re a bit of a science freak aren’t you?”

  She snorted. “When Papa James and Ma prodded Fallon and me into taking some college courses, I ended up with a degree in botany while she got one in business management. Occasionally I help with the layout of spring and summer landscaping because I know which flowers deliver a sense of calm and relaxation.”

  His head cocked. “This explains quite a bit about you.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Such as…?”

  He shrugged. “Things I’ve noticed.”

  “Things you’ve noticed?”

  “Yes,” Maddox confirmed. “Things I’ve noticed.”

  Her brows briefly lifted. “You’ve got a list of my quirks?”

  “No, I just happen to be attentive to aspects of you that don’t include the color of your nipples and the dip in your spine right before the rise of your ass.”

  Cree began to laugh. “You’re full of shit!”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes!”

  Eyes narrowed, he leaned forward and softly told her, “You mostly wear monotones because you don’t like to draw attention to yourself when slipping about but your favorite colors are everything in the pastel family. You won’t eat anything off your plate if all the foods are touching without you being the one to arrange them that way and you can’t take meat cooked unless it’s been lightly grilled because you need it almost bloody. When you’re jumpy or edgy you tug at your hair because at the base of your skull is the part that soothes you the most during anxious moments. You hate roses, love sunflowers and like to lay in fresh cut grass. For music to catch your attention it has to be something old and soulful and your favorite movies always involve psychological conflict.”

  She only blinked.

  Maddox watched her for a bit. “I told you. All I see is you.”

  Swallowing, she looked away from him, quietly admitting, “I see you too.”

  There was something about the hesitance in her voice that nudged his heart. She was so afraid that he’d regret their connection because of what she was. She had no reason to be because he never would.

  “I want you to relax. Remember that I’m here and you’re safe. Remember that you can control this. Remember that it can’t be a curse unless you label it as such.”

  She nodded.

  He ran his thumbs along the backs of her hands. “Focus on my touch and the sound of my voice. If you feel yourself going under too quickly, use me as an anchor.”

  Another nod.

  “Don’t run from them Cree. They only want what’s rightfully theirs—freedom.”

  One last nod.

  “Let your mind drift for a bit and then I want you to stop and listen. I want you to feel the empty space, hear the quiet and call them forward. All of them.”

  Her brows lowered and he tugged at her hands. “Trust me. I love you too much to let you get hurt. Besides, no one appreciates Mr. LongFellow the way you do…”

  Her face softened with laugh lines.

  Maddox waited a few minutes, simply holding her hands, listening to the sou
nd of her breathing and then questioned, “What do you see, Cree?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “I see the wolf.”

  “And?”

  Her lips parted and she looked to be concentrating. “I see the wolf, a panther…and a lioness…a cheetah….a tiger…and,”—she winced—“a bear?”

  Maddox smiled at the last revelation. “Anything else?”

  Mouth closing, she shook her head. “No.”

  “Each one of them are a part of you. When you cause them to be voiceless, it leads to frustration and they act out to get your attention; they act out to get you to listen. The more connected to them you are—the more you allow them into your space—the more respect you’ll develop for one another. They aren’t to be taken for granted but appreciated and noticed. The same way I know every nuance of your characteristics, you have to associate yourself with theirs again. You have to reconnect.” He squeezed her fingers. “You have to shift.”

  She abruptly released his hands and moved away. “No.”

  “Cree—”

  “I said no,” she repeated, standing and wrapping her arms about herself.

  Maddox saw the resolve. She wouldn’t do it and he understood it had nothing to do with trusting him and everything to do with trusting herself. So instead of pushing, he simply gathered containers and plates. He then placed a kiss at her temple, murmuring, “Alright, baby” against her skin. From there, he turned towards her kitchen and began to clean up.

  He listened to her soft footsteps as they padded behind him on the hardwood floors. She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to his shoulder gently.

  “I’m not ready.”

  Maddox linked the fingers resting against his stomach with his own. “I know.”

  “But thank you,” she whispered.

  He lifted her hand to place a kiss against her palm. “You’re welcome.”

  Walking backwards, she tugged him away from the sink. “Let’s go to bed now.”

  Maddox nodded and followed with a smile. “Okay.”

  “No lotus flower bomb.”

  His smile fell and with a long sigh, he repeated, “Okay.”

  Ten

  Enli Bird, alpha of the Montana Athabaskan tribe, slowly spun towards the old woman standing just feet away. “What. Did. You. Say?”

  She smiled and it was nothing short of impish. It was always impish. Not one amongst them could determine her age or her origin. Nasnaana was a mystery and her people weren’t too fond of those. Traditionalism had died years ago leaving the need for tangibility. There were no more blind followers of the Great Spirit. Enli’s tribe depended on what they could touch and despite the old shaman’s warnings, desired nothing outside of the elevation of the Athasbakan. There were very few who still looked to the moon and the earth for guidance; there very few who still believed in spirituality. Spirituality had gotten them nowhere except for dependent on miracles that always seemed to have an underlying price.

  The skin-walkers had been considered miracles once and that perspective changed when it was shown that they were no more than camouflaged demons. It hadn’t taken long for Enli’s tribe to be shown that outsiders—unknown things—could not be trusted. The murders of many revealed the need to separate what would strengthen them from what would do harm. She’d been at the head of those who craved to dig them out of a hole full of chants and the romantic reasoning of abominations. Sixteen years ago the last one of those unknown things had left Athabaskan land, never returning. Enli had been grateful that she hadn’t needed to get her hands dirty in order to accomplish the feat. Sympathetic rationale would have led her to lash out at the girl that looked entirely too much like the killer of her brother. Hussan’s memory was tainted enough. Executing his daughter wouldn’t have helped swathe the disgust and hurt that had hurtled through their tribe like shrapnel. However, Nasnaana’s words made her wonder if her choice to leave the child be had been wise. When she’d moved onto another pack, Enli assumed that she would become someone else’s issue.

  “I said she’s coming home, Enli. My advice to you is that you rally the rest and cleanse yourselves because just as your warped views on tribe life and conservatism have grown, so has she,” Nasnaana told her.

  Enli slowly shook her head in disbelief. “She’d be a fool to step one foot on this land.”

  “Why should she be afraid to return to a place that’s always belonged to her?”

  Before she could question Nasnaana further, in the blink of an eye, the old woman was gone, leaving her tinkling laughter to echo around Enli.

  ***

  “And where are you going?”

  Cree froze at the low rumble of Maddox’s voice as it brushed just over the shell of her ear, causing her skin to pimple. There was something to be said about the honeyed baritone. The scratchiness that accompanied it, while he pushed his thigh between hers and pulled her back into his chest, made her melt.

  She cleared her throat, attempting to ignore the way he flicked at her earlobe with the tip of his tongue. “Work…I was going to work.”

  Lodge activities were set to start in about an hour and she needed to make herself as decent as humanly possible. Not an easy feat when you spent the majority of your night being pinned to things and fucked until you had to question if it were healthy at all for your outer thighs to go numb during an orgasm.

  After Cree’s refusal to shift, Maddox hadn’t brought it up again. They’d fallen into bed, limbs tangling around one another. It had quite possibly been that specific moment in time where a woman knows she is unequivocally—inarguably—in love. Maddox’s patience and his kindness, his easy demeanor and ability to make her laugh without much effort were wonderful qualities. However, what stopped her heart was the simple way he’d looked at her as they’d drifted off and said, “No pressure or anything but if you attempt to leave me, I’ll probably level all of Wilder territory, wherever you ran off too and anything in between, kay?”

  The steely glint in his eyes and how he’d reached over to push her hair back pretty much signed over all her emotional baggage to him; he owned it. Loving anyone else the way she loved him was unfeasible because there would never be anyone else like Maddox Malisle McKenna. There would never be another man who could shorten her breath with his jokes just before making it choppy by curling his tongue over her clit. There would never be another man who could make her want to break his nose just before inspiring her to coil into his chest and stay there. There would never be another man who could provoke her into a fight right before she found herself spilling all of her inner most thoughts. Her grizzly was, in fact, irreplaceable. Reservations, fear, and hesitation be damned, Cree was choosing to live in the moment. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring but if it meant having this pretty, insane bastard by her side, she’d run at it headlong.

  Maddox’s growl vibrated against her nape and Cree trembled. “Stay in bed with me,” he whispered. “Let one of the others handle it.”

  She shook her head. “Can’t. No one else knows the activity sheet the way I do and—sweet God…” Her head fell forward as she moved against the hand between her legs. He curled the two digits that he’d slid inside her pussy and made a come hither motion. “This,” she panted. “Is extremely unproductive.”

  “Is it?” he queried casually. “Feels as though it’ll produce a multitude of things; one of them being an orgasm of epic proportions.”

  Cree gripped his wrist and wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep his hand there or pull it away. There were levels to physical intimacy—oh this feels nice, holy fuck do that again, and I swear to God I’ll rip off your nose and ears if you stop now. It seemed that Maddox had mastered all three and stored up enough knowledge to spill it all over her. At one point he’d done said spilling entirely too close to her hair and she’d had to refrain from bludgeoning him to death. Right now all past sins and offenses were forgotten because she was convinced his hands had been crafted by succubae and wood nymphs.
r />   She buried her face into one of his pillows and bit down, rocking into him. His cockhead prodded just at the crease of her buttocks, tempting her to reach back and stroke him in time with his ministrations. Or at least she would’ve if her hands hadn’t been so busy curling into the sheets, her claws shredding the soft cotton.

  “If you only knew how many times I closed my eyes just before bed,”—he encircled her clit—“imagined you bent over for me, face flushed, lips bruised, eyes glowing,”—one hand slid up her torso and encircled her throat, pressing firmly—“taking every inch of my cock almost desperately.”

  Her breath caught. “Maddox…”

  “My dick would tighten and I’d stroke over it lightly at first, focusing on what your touch would feel like.”

  Cree’s heart thudded at the visual.

  “I’d run my thumb just over the head and picture your tongue.”

  His fingers scissored and a low grunt left her throat.

  “I’d fantasize about you running your lips up the underside while watching me.”

  She could hear the strain in his voice as her pussy quivered around his digits. Cree was going to come and he’d been right in his prediction because it was going to be epic.

  Maddox’s voice deepened to a low growl as his hard exhales played around the nape of her neck. “Then I’d squeeze the base just. Like. This.” He released her throat to catch one of her nipples and roll it between his fingertips in a hold that toed the line between pain and hedonistic pleasure. Cree’s orgasm ripped up her spine violently, leaving her shaking as her mouth dropped open. Her lungs felt as though they would burst and her abdomen rippled. A wail left her that she was sure should’ve deafened the grizzly as he calmed his caress.

  Thoroughly boneless, she lay still waiting for the purple dots and leprechauns to recede from her vision. That’s when Maddox chose to roll her onto her tummy and run his forefinger from her labia to her rosette. Cree blinked at him over one shoulder, hair falling into her eyes. “Er…excuse me?”

 

‹ Prev