Timberman Werebear

by T. S. Joyce

  She caught it mid-air and shook it open as best she could while balancing the plate. It was a soft, black T-shirt that read Ashe Crew in bright pink letters.

  “The girls made it for you last night. Apparently, they like you, and their opinions count for a hell of a lot around here.”

  “Bruiser?” she asked as he turned to walk away again.

  “What?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Lumberjack Wars. We’re all competing. Hurry scurry now. We ain’t waitin’ on you for long.”

  “Oh.” She stared at his back, which was roughly the width of the broad side of a barn. Okay, Lumberjack Wars.

  She ate in haste and grabbed some skinny jeans and hiking boots to go with her shirt. She’d showered in a vacant trailer, 1010, last night, but her hair had dried in snarls thanks to the nightmares that roaring animal had given her. Face washed, teeth brushed, and hair swept into a messy bun, she dressed in her new shirt, then plumped her lips with some pink gloss and lengthened her dark lashes with mascara. Ready for the day, she bolted out the front door of her humble abode.

  The Ashe Crew, as they apparently called themselves, were bustling here and there to various trucks like frenzied ants. Her eyes lit on Denison like a paperclip to a magnet. He was loading a giant cooler into the back of an old, beat-up green Bronco.

  “Hey!” she called, jogging toward him.

  Denison closed the back door and frowned. Right, still mad then. Straightening his shoulders, he hooked a hand on his hip and leaned against his ride. The curl of a tattoo showed under his stretched T-shirt. “Hey yourself. What are you doing?”

  She lifted her chin and pulled at her shirt so he could read the lettering. “I’m going to cheer you on.”

  His eyes narrowed as he read the pink lettering. Or perhaps he was just staring at her tits. Either way was fine with her.

  “Shotgun,” she said.

  “Wait, what? What are you doing?”

  She marched past him and threw open the passenger’s side door. Brighton was leaning on the front nose of the car with an amused grin.

  “Brighton has shotgun.”

  “Brighton?” she asked. “You mind if I sit by your brother?”

  Brighton lifted his hands, and his shoulders shook like he was laughing. He canted his head at Denison and pointed to a black truck Brooke and Tagan were loading.

  “No,” Denison gritted out. “Shotgun is reserved for people who’ve earned it.” He looped an arm around her waist as she tried to crawl inside the Bronco.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered, clutching onto the grab handle and hooking her shoes inside the doorframe. “Nobody’s riding with you now, and I’m not sitting in the back like you are my chauffeur.”

  “Damn straight you aren’t. Go ride with Tagan.” He pulled harder, but she was spry.

  “Stop being stubborn!”

  He yanked her out of his car and spun her around to face him. His eyes flashed with something that wasn’t altogether anger, and she pounced.

  “Let me ride with you,” she muttered, scrambling for purchase on the dry gravel he was dragging her across. “Or so help me, Denny, I’ll kiss you soundly right on the lips, and then where will you be?”

  He let her loose and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll be unaffected.”

  “I’m irresistible.”

  He snorted a laugh and tried to hold his frown, but lost it as his lips turned up in a smile. Scrubbing his hands down his face, which he still hadn’t shaved, the sexy mountain man, he let off a sigh and let her go. “I think God sent you here to kill me, woman.”

  She scrambled inside the Bronco and slammed the door, then tossed him a victory grin. She wasn’t for sure, because the words were muffled by the car, but she thought he said something along the lines of, “Freaking badger.”

  When he went to open the driver’s side door, she hit the automatic lock button just as he pulled the lever. Oh, he looked so annoyed, but underneath was that hint of a smile she used to breathe for. Heck, from the way her heart was fluttering around in her chest like bat wings, maybe she still breathed for it now.

  “You gonna annoy me all day long?” he asked, trying to look severe as he turned the engine.

  “I’ve decide something,” she said, ignoring his question. “I’m going to make you forgive me.”

  “Danielle,” he warned.

  “No, hear me out. I know I messed up. Bad. But you aren’t the only one who got hurt, Denny. The only way I can feel okay about us being friends again is if I make it up to you. So today, I’m going to be your beer wench.” She patted her purse and grinned. “Anytime you want a beer, I’m your girl.”

  He put his hand on the back of her headrest, and she leaned toward him instinctively. Twisting in his seat and backing the car away from his trailer, he said, “Your plan to win my friendship is by getting me beer?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded once and pulled in line behind Kellen’s truck. “Okay then.”

  “And I’ll also be extra nice to you and cheer the loudest when you are doing lumberjack stuff.”

  Denison shot her a glance and lowered his eyes to the writing on her chest again, then back to the road in front of them. “I like that shirt on you.”

  “Brooke and Skyler made it for me. Where did you get the name Ashe Crew?”

  This was where Denison had always clammed up in the past. Anything personal made him uncomfortable, but he shrugged his shoulders and explained, “That name has been around a long time, and not just for this crew we have assembled now. It’s been a name that’s been carried on through generations.”

  “Of lumberjacks?”

  “Sure.”

  “And are there other crews of lumberjacks?”

  “Yeah, two others that live in these mountains. The Gray Backs are a crew like ours who work a jobsite up the road, and the Boarlanders are a crew of cutters. They cut the trees, and we haul them away to the sawmill in Saratoga or to log buyers.”

  Until now, she hadn’t thought about the impact on the environment—on the ecosystem here. Animals depended on those trees for homes and for food, but Denison and his crew were chopping them down and selling off the forest.

  “You have your judgey face on,” he accused.

  “Not judging, just thinking.”

  “We re-plant as we go.”

  “You do?” Huh.

  “You’re here for the beetle infestation, to study it, right? Well, right now, the land here is just dry, dead tinder waiting for a spark. And it won’t be one of those controlled forest fires that help the forest to regrow. It’ll be an inferno when it burns. Damon Daye owns most of this land up here. He and his family have been buying it up for generations, and it’s he who hired the crews to come manage the territory. He isn’t trying to hurt this place by taking the trees. He’s trying to salvage it.”

  “My my, Denison Donovan Beck. You have a land lovin’, tree huggin’ mountain man inside of you.” It was sexy when he talked about the woods like this. Like he cared.

  Her eyes drifted to the inky tendril that showed just under the sleeve of his shirt. “The tattoo is new.” She lifted up the edge of his sleeve, but he shrugged away.

  “It’s not new. I got it the year you left.”

  “What is it?” Besides sexy. All she’d been able to make out were intricate tribal shapes that didn’t form anything she could make any sense of.

  “Maybe if you earn my forgiveness, I’ll tell you.”

  There was no if, only when. She’d stayed awake late into the night going over the things she’d done wrong and how she could’ve handled it differently. The only way she could forgive herself was to earn his trust and be the friend he deserved.

  She tossed him a saucy look. “Someday you’ll show me yours, and then I’ll show you mine.”

  It had been a tease, but when she looked over at him, the smile had dipped from his face, and his smoldering eyes raked down her body, drawing
a delicious tremor up her spine. Warmth pooled between her legs when he slid his hand to her thigh and gripped it.

  “You’ll show me your ink first, little badger,” he said low, attention back on the road.

  “Want to make a bet?” she asked.

  “Name the terms.”

  “First person to cave has to do whatever the other one wants.”

  Denison narrowed his eyes on the road. “Deal.” He slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel. Danielle held onto the grab handle for dear life as he maneuvered through the trees. Tagan didn’t even slow as he passed them to follow Kellen’s truck as Brooke waved out the window with a curious smile.

  Away from the road, Denison pulled to a stop and threw the car into park.

  “What are you—”

  He reached under the seat and slammed his chair back, then grabbed her waist and pulled her over onto his lap like she weighed nothing.

  Oh.

  He leaned up and his lips crashed onto hers with such force, she whimpered at the sheer shock of it. He wasn’t the soft Denny she remembered. This Denny was different. Everything she remembered was null and void now as he parted her lips and plunged his tongue against hers. But for as different as he seemed, this somehow felt like home. Right here, straddling his lap as his hands ran over her back and gripped her tighter. Nothing had come close to this in the years she’d tried to move on.

  When her breasts heaved, they brushed his chest. He sucked her bottom lip and rattled a hungry sound from deep within his throat, drawing a gasp from her. The Denny she’d known had been reserved and careful when they were together like this. Denny now was half-feral and fully sexy.

  She rolled her hips against his thick erection that pressed against his pants. He groaned and gripped her hair, angling her neck. He flicked his tongue against the tripping pulse at the base of her throat as she rocked against him again.

  His hand slid under her shirt, up her ribs, and unsnapped her bra in back with a fucking professional flick of his fingers. He cupped her breast, and she cried out and arched against his hand. God, what that man could do to her body with a touch.

  “You want more?”

  “More. Please more,” she panted out.

  He pressed his mouth over her breast, the thin material of the T-shirt the only thing between her oversensitive skin and his lips. He blew air until her nipple drew up tight. His tongue lapped until the shirt was wet and she was just about undone. The man was going to make her come without ever touching between her legs. Desperate for more, she pulled his hand and guided him to the top button of her jeans.

  He eased back, then whispered softly in her ear. “You’re a needy little badger, aren’t you?” Plucking gently, he pulled her earlobe into his mouth and grazed his teeth against it.

  The button of her jeans popped open under his steady fingers, and the rip of the zipper filled the Bronco. When he slid his hand under her panties and cupped her sex, she bucked helplessly against him.

  He smiled and nibbled her bottom lip again. “You were always good at getting wet for me.”

  When he slid his finger into her slick opening, he brushed her clit like he knew the exact spot that would drive her mad with want.

  “Oh!” she cried out. “Denny, please.”

  “Fuck yes, more of that. Tell me what you want.”

  He pulled his finger out slowly, then added another before he pressed into her again. Her belly quivered with intense pleasure. Leaning forward, she tasted his lips and matched her pace with his hand. He relaxed against the seat and took his time bringing her to climax. She hadn’t been able to finish with anyone since him.

  He’d been her first.

  Her best.

  He should’ve been her only.

  And right when she was about to tip over the edge, he stilled, just shy of touching her clit again. His eyes grew serious as he held her gaze. “Just friends doesn’t work for me. You want my forgiveness? You give me another shot. A real one this time where you don’t run when you get scared. Now show me that tattoo, and I’ll let you fuck my hand.”

  Her thoughts raced with what she was considering. If she did this, if she gave in, there was no more going back. Oh, she knew what he was saying. He was laying claim to her heart, right here in the middle of the woods, and asking her to take a leap of faith with him.

  If she said no, she wouldn’t be able to go back to her life and not be affected by how intense her feelings still were with him. Saying no wasn’t an option anymore. Not when it would hurt so badly again.

  “I won’t run, if you let me in.” Negotiations, oh yes. She was good at haggling.

  “Done. You might not like what you find out, though.”

  She leveled him with her gaze and cupped his cheeks. Lowering her voice and rocking against his hand, she said, “I won’t run.”

  With a deep, steadying breath, she lifted her shirt over her head and shrugged out of her loose bra. Then she turned and showed him the tiny arrow tattoo on the side of her ribcage. “No matter how far an arrow is drawn back, it always shoots forward again.”

  He dragged his gaze from the tiny mark with a smile of triumph. He was beautiful like this, confident and happy, staring at her like he’d never seen another so alluring. He pressed his finger into her again, but she shook her head.

  “I want all of you now.”

  He hesitated, and she thought he would reject her. Embarrassed at putting herself out there like this, she murmured, “I’m on birth control if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That’s not… I’m worried about bonding to you even more, and then you leaving again.”

  She frowned and stroked the shadow-colored stubble on his jaw. “You’re already bonded to me, Denny. And I’m not going anywhere. I made a mistake before.”

  He dropped his eyes to the door handle and for a moment, he looked lost.

  “Denny,” she whispered, pulling his face back to hers. Her pulse hammered as she realized her feelings for him hadn’t diminished at all, no matter how hard she’d tried to snuff him from her heart. “I’m sorry.” Sorrier than he would ever know.

  He pulled her nipple into his mouth and dragged his tongue against it until it tingled. When he eased back again, he looked surer of himself, as if he’d made up his mind. Kicking open the door with his heavy work boot, he slipped from the car. When he turned back to her, he was unbuttoning his pants, and she smiled.

  “Say it. Say you forgive me.”

  “You haven’t bought me a single beer,” he teased as he eased his long, thick cock from his briefs.

  Her heart thrummed erratically against her sternum as she watched him stroke himself from the base to the tip. It was red and swollen, ready for her, and she shimmied out of her jeans as fast as she could peel the danged things off.

  “I like that you’re smooth,” he whispered reverently. Gripping the backs of her knees, he pulled her legs until her hips rested on the edge of the seat. He knelt down between her thighs and stared at her sex. “I like being able to see all of you.”

  He eased her back and dragged his tongue along her slick seam. Her shoulders shook with the tremor that blasted up her spine, and she arched her head back and closed her eyes. The sensation of his whiskers against her skin was nothing shy of orgasmic. His tongue lapped at her, three languid strokes, then he stood and leaned into the Bronco, over her body, and trailed soft kisses up her bare stomach.

  When he came to her tattoo, he paused, then kissed it. “You’re mine, Danielle.” His voice was pitched low and had a gravelly quality she’d never heard before.

  She dragged her fingernails across his shoulders and sighed at the happiness that filled her. “You’re mine too, Denny. I think you always have been.”

  He rattled off a low growl and plunged his shaft into her, filling and stretching her. He felt so good, so familiar, as if they were meant to be here, connected. As if they were better when they were together.

  He opened his eyes just befo
re his lips collided with hers, and she saw it. Something hidden beneath the surface. Something churning and silver and incomprehensible. He thrust into her again, and she bowed against him and clawed his back. She didn’t care if she hurt his skin. She wanted him to feel her here. To be marked by what they were doing in these quiet woods. This wasn’t just making love. She felt it to her bones. This was more. Denison was tethering her to him with every stroke.

  He bucked harder, pulling her tightly against his chest as his teeth grazed her skin. She yelled out his name as she detonated around him, and he froze and threw his head back. The muscles in his neck strained before he brought his cool, silvery gaze back to her. It wasn’t a trick of the lighting this time—she knew for sure. Denny was different, and those eyes… He was hiding something scary inside of him. She hadn’t a guess what, but right now as he filled her with pulsing, hot jets, filled her until she overflowed and wetness trickled between her thighs, she didn’t care that he kept secrets.

  Someday, she was going to prove she was worth sharing them with.

  He slammed into her three more times as his cock swelled and emptied completely. Spent, he nuzzled her neck and stroked her hair until their breathing slowed and their pounding heartbeats synchronized at a much slower pace.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear it.

  She smiled at the ceiling of the Bronco and ran her fingers through his hair, her heart full as a future with the man she’d always loved stretched on and on before her. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Chapter Six

  Danielle moved to open the car door, but Denison reached over her lap and pulled it closed again. When she turned to ask him what he thought he was doing, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Hesitating half a beat, he dropped his gaze to her lips, then kissed her. It wasn’t one of those powerful lip-locks that tried to make up for lost time, but a sweet one with a gentle pluck of her bottom lip before he pulled away with a soft smacking sound that made her insides feel like they were glowing.