by Sy Walker
Ray attempted to straighten one of the pictures, but it crashed down to the floor and shattered instead. He grimaced. “Sorry.”
She just laughed.
The three biker bears worked to salvage as much as they could while Vicky and Amos packed everything up into boxes. “If you want, you could keep going to your class, just from a different home.”
“I’m not going to be able to afford it. Once the landlord finds out about this…”
He shook his head. “They won’t. We’ll fix it.”
“But what if I want to live with you on the bayou now, instead?”
The three bears looked at her and then looked at each other.
“We should go,” Buzz said.
“Yeah,” Jean-Claude added. “We shouldn’t disturb you.”
Amos suddenly looked over at them. “Boys,” he said. “Bring these boxes to La Grande Grotte.”
When Jean-Claude spoke French, it sounded creole which was cool. But when Amos spoke French, it sounded as though he was well-cultured and had trained in it for many years. Vicky had ended up catching herself an aristocratic bear.
“You got it,” Ray replied. They took the packed boxes and carried them out of Vicky’s apartment.
She eyed him curiously. “La Grande Grotte?” she asked him.
“Yes,” Amos said. “It means—”
“I know what it means,” she said, laughing. “The Large Cave. But what is that?”
He waggled his dark eyebrows at her. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Right,” Vicky said. Now that the others were gone, it was just the two of them, alone in her semi-demolished apartment. “I’m going to take a shower. You coming?”
Amos grinned and started taking off his clothes at once. He practically chased her into the shower.
As she bent over to turn the water on, he pressed up against her and she let out a gasp as his grande cock entered her. Vicky held onto the wall as the warm water splashed against them and he thrust himself in and out of her. The water made her extra slick against him.
He grabbed the soap and lathered her up, making love to her from behind, and kissing her back and shoulders and face. “I love you,” he said.
When he pulled out, she turned to face him and he held her in his arms, inserting himself again. She bounced against him there. “Oh oh oh!!” she yelled. If they kept this up, they were going to do more damage to the apartment.
The warm water made it harder for him to hold off, and he came inside her within a few blissful moments. They finished cleaning each other and then stepped out of the shower, wrapping her pink and green towels around themselves.
With all of her stuff packed up in boxes that had been taken off to who knew where, Vicky did not have a reason to stay in her building. “I guess I need to end my lease, and my art classes,” she said sadly.
Amos shook his head. “Yeah, end your lease but don’t give up on your classes. I’ll pay for them if need be.”
“Can you pay for the rest of rent I’ll have to pay?” she asked, laughing slightly bitterly. “My class is at least mostly paid for with a scholarship.”
“I can do that, too,” he said, leaning towards her and kissing her chin. “C’mon now. Let me take you to your new home.”
They got back on his motorcycle and he drove them back in the direction of the bayou. They did not go to the same bayou however. When he’d finally parked the bike in a new bayou, Amos smiled at her. “Welcome to your new home. This is Bayou Segnette.”
Vicky looked around, smiling. “It’s about as hot as I suppose one might expect,” she said. He led her by the hand up to a large cabin. It appeared to be much more spacious than the other one. “Does this one have a shower?” she asked, squinting up at him as the sunlight blinked through the trees at them.
Amos chuckled. “Just go inside and see.”
They walked in together, hand-in-hand.
The cabin was definitely bigger. This one had an actual living room, a larger kitchen, a bedroom and – best of all! – a bathroom with a shower and tub!
“Now, it’s not exactly meant for a large family, but I figure it’s a start?” Amos said.
Vicky leapt into his arms, kissing him. “I love it!” she cried. “I love you!”
EPILOGUE
After everything that had happened to Vicky, she was not going to continue working at Zydeco. She hadn’t disliked the place, but it was not the safest place for her to be. Not only that, but the heat exhaustion and second-hand smoke were liable to kill both her and the baby if she stayed.
Instead, safe with her biker bear, she focused on her artwork and taking better care of herself. It turned out that Amos was a bouncer at one of the local dance clubs; he made enough money to support them until she became a successful famous artist.
Her pregnancy did not last as long as a normal pregnancy. That was because, as Amos explained to her, “Werebears do not live by human rules.”
Four months after they moved in together at La Grande Grotte, Vicky gave birth at home to a healthy baby boy. They named him Sylas. “Sylas Steele” just sounded like an awesome name to Vicky, and Amos was not going to argue with that.
The time spent away from Zydeco did wonders for her work. Vicky still went to classes every so often, but she was devoted to her baby and did not want to leave him at home. It didn’t seem to matter if she was still taking the class or not. She continued to improve and explore new techniques that she incorporated into her pieces.
One morning, Vicky sat outside on the cabin’s back deck right over the bayou. The baby was in a rocking cradle right beside her, staring up at her canvas as she attempted an oil painting. As she watched the familiar sunrise over the water, she did her best to let the colors of the water and the trees and the sky inspire her.
“Who is this?” she asked little Sylas, cooing down at the little boy as he looked up at her, smiling and eager to know what the hell was going on. She’d felt like that pretty recently. She had a lot in common with their baby already.
And he had a lot in common with his daddy.
“This is Daddy,” Vicky said excitedly, pointing her thumb towards her portrait of Bear Amos. He was done up in blues and yellows, but it was him all right. “This is your daddy.”
“Oh, that needs to go up on the wall,” Amos’s voice said behind her.
She turned and smiled at him. He came up to her and they kissed. Vicky brought her hands up to his face and accidentally got blue paint all over him.
Well, maybe it was an accident.
Maybe she was simply imprinting on him.
The End.
Wanted by the Wolf
“Alright boys. Who’s ready for another round?” Jennifer whisked around the room, cheerfully dropping fresh pitchers of Bud, and clearing out the old ones. The bikers stayed tame as long as they didn’t run dry.
Jennifer Armstrong only had another month before she had to return to college, which meant she only had one more month of dirty old men pinching her ass and listening to them talk about how they “love a woman with meat on her bones”, or how they wanted to see what her “Double Ds looked like t-shirt free”, as if she couldn’t hear them. She hated the attention, but she made bank so she put up with it.
She looked down at her watch; it was nearly midnight. She would be done soon, and she was so ready to just be home. The night had been slammed and she was exhausted. Some stupid bike festival was in town. The extra tips were nice, but her shifts wore her down. At ten minutes to twelve her best friend, Tiffany, sashayed into the bar wearing a low cut pink tank top and skin tight jeans to pick her up.
Jennifer had told her a hundred times to not come and tempt the regulars by dressing like that. They were wonderful sober, but Jennifer warned her about their behavior after drinking a few.
She just shook her head this time. Tiffany was a big girl, and she knew what she was doing. She loved a bad boy and being the center of attention. A few of the young
er bikers noticed and started elbowing each other and pointing at her.
“C’mon, girl. You ready to get out of here or what?” Tiffany propped her elbows on the bar and dragged a bowl of stale pretzels closer to her to pick through. She turned up her nose and started flicking them out of the bowl one by one.
“Yeah, I’m done. Just let me close out these tabs and have the other girl start those new ones.”
The noise all night had been overpowering. As she ran around to pick up the checks, a hush fell over the bar. She looked up at the doorway to see what was going on.
Her breath left her as the most beautiful man she had ever seen crossed the threshold. His head nearly scraped the top of the doorway as he entered he was so big. The man had a presence that commanded attention and respect. The men in the room were weary.
The newcomer wore a fitted leather jacket that accentuated his lean torso and broad shoulders. His piercing, sky blue eyes scanned the room as he entered.
Those eyes locked in on Jennifer; he said nothing, just stared. For a moment she got caught in them. She could feel the heat of self-consciousness creeping up her cheeks as her pulse raced.
Tiffany turned to her and mouthed, “Oh my God,” before grinning like a Cheshire dog.
Jennifer blinked and broke eye contact, “Alright, Tiff. Let’s go. Back door,” she dragged her friend around the bar and through the kitchen to leave. To hell with the money, she thought. That man sent shivers up her spine.
“Okay, now I know you saw that gorgeous specimen walk in to your bar. Why are we leaving? He seemed like he recognized you. Do you know him? And if you did why did you not tell me?” Tiffany babbled on and asked a million more questions, but Jennifer had tuned her out. She felt intimidated and uneasy and really didn’t want to talk about it.
Of course she noticed how he looked, anyone with eyes could see the man was stunning, but the way he looked at her is what shook her up. The look he gave was one that spoke of possession and was rife with danger. Jennifer felt like a sheep that had been targeted by a wolf.
“You need to go back and talk to that guy. He looks like a man that could toss you around in the bedroom, and Lord knows you need that.” Tiffany giggled behind her hand.
“Yeah, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be the only one sharing that man’s bed. No thanks,” Jennifer shook her head and climbed in to Tiffany’s car. Men like that didn’t care for girlfriends or monogamy. In Jennifer’s experience, men like that only used and disposed of women.
Tiffany jumped in on the driver’s side. “Jennifer, I’m going to say this as the voice of reason, you need to get out and start saying hello to people. Jason is a bad memory and a distant one at that. Not every guy you meet will be a skeeze,” Tiffany started the engine and pulled away from the curb, “Besides, you don’t have to get involved in a relationship. A one nighter might be all you need to get yourself back together, and that mountain man certainly looked interested.”
“Thanks for the pointer, but I’ve sworn off men after that asshole cheated on me with half of my dorm and my best friend. Forgive me, but I’m really in no hurry to spend any time with the male species, in any capacity at all right now,” Jennifer sank back in her seat and tried to slow her racing heart.
Tiffany didn’t say anything for the ten minutes it took to get back to the apartment, which Jennifer was thankful for. What was troubling was every time she closed her eyes, even for a second, she saw got caught in his stare all over again. The look he gave her sent a little thrill up her spine. Every instinct in her body was setting off alarm bells to stay away, but she had to admit to herself she was a little curious.
That man had zeroed in on her in a bar packed with people. It was almost as if he was seeking her out. She was spooked now, but a little part of her hoped she would see him again for her next shift.
“Rise and shine, lady. We have brunch plans remember?” Tiffany shook Jennifer who groaned in protest. She hadn’t slept well the night before since tall, dark, and broody had been haunting her thoughts all night.
“Come on now sleepy head, I can practically taste my mimosa,” Tiffany yanked the covers off, and chucked them in a corner. Jennifer’s exposed body shivered at the draft. Tiffany sped around the room on a mission to get Jennifer up, opening curtains and pulling clothes out of drawers.
“You’re a sadist you know that?” Jennifer asked as she whipped her pillow at her friend, “I’m up. I’m up. Just let me get ready,” She staggered out of bed and into her bathroom, “Whoa!”
The reflection in the mirror had seen better days. She spent ten minutes wrestling with her paddle brush in an attempt to get things under control. It would be a ponytail day for sure. The bruises and bags under her green eyes were another matter entirely. She said to hell with it. She just couldn’t summon the energy to cover them up.
Everything about being conscious made her whiny and irritable, especially the thought of wearing a bra. She moaned and stamped her foot at the drawer full of the stupid slings. Jennifer turned and stared longingly at her bed. If she hadn’t had these plans with Tiffany on the books for the last week she would just crawl back in and blow the whole thing off.
With a sigh, she acquiesced, and got dressed in her dingy white t-shirt bra. She slipped on her favorite worn in jeans. They were patched and fraying at the leg hems, but she couldn’t throw them out. An Iron Maiden baseball tee from a concert she had caught a few years prior and flip-flops completed her brunch look. She was by no means a fashion plate, but omelets don’t care.
“Alright, Tiff. Let’s go,” Tiffany as usual took her time to get ready. Her dark skin shone in a baby pink sundress that fell to just above the knee. French manicured toes peeked out of a pair of gladiator sandals. Even in minimal makeup Tiffany was stunning. Jennifer looked down at what she was wearing and shrugged, “You’re just showing off, you know that? Nobody rolls out of bed looking like you do.”
Tiffany laughed and hooked her arm through Jennifer’s, “You can just be my boyfriend for the morning then,” Jennifer finally lightened up and giggled at her friend. She loved that girl, but man did she need coffee first.
Tiffany’s blue Hyundai pulled up to the curb at The Egg Shack, a slightly shabby looking establishment that sacrificed looks for quality. The building looked like it should be a seaside shanty rather than in the middle of downtown traffic. They had never had a bad meal, no matter what time of the day they visited. Every ingredient was fresh and sourced locally and the coffee was from organic sources and tasted like heaven.
The scent of hash browns and sausages in the air made Jennifer’s mouth water. Quickly climbing out of the car the two women dashed towards the entrance. They could practically taste the delicious bitter liquid on the back of their tongues.
The rule was seat yourself, so the pair slid into a booth near the window to people watch. It was the last day of the festival and the diner was bustling with activity and teeming with hung over bikers in sunglasses.
“What can I get you ladies started with,” a slim, hipster with black and blue hair sidled up to their table. Her cheery attitude and welcoming smile cleared the last of the sleepy haze around Jennifer. Who could be cranky around someone so warm?
“Coffee,” Jennifer and Tiffany said in unison, “Ha! Mimosa for me,” Tiffany ordered
“Orange juice for me, please,” Jennifer already knew what she wanted to order, but held off because Tiffany was still looking. The server left to fill their drink orders.
“So sleepy head, rough night?” Tiffany raised an eyebrow and Jennifer’s shabby state, “Last I checked I brought you home and you went straight to bed. How come you look like a truck hit you? Some tall, leather clad hunk keep you up last night?” a wry grin tugged at her lips.
“Actually yeah. Every time I closed my eyes that look he gave me would be waiting for me. It’s creepy,” after tossing and turning for several hours, she did manage to finally drop off, but she watched the sky turn pink first.
“Sounds better than creepy to me. That man was beautiful. I don’t like long hair on a guy, but even I wanted to take down that man bun and play,” the server swung by and dropped their drinks. They gave their orders, pumpkin pancakes for Jennifer, Denver omelet and breakfast potatoes for Tiffany.
“I agree, but he was weird,” Jennifer poured creamer into her cup.
Tiffany closed her eyes and savored the aroma of her coffee. When she opened them she grinned, “You may want to go ahead and tell him yourself,” Jennifer’s eyes popped open and turned to look where Tiffany was pointing.
The mystery man strolled in wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. He scanned the floor for a place to sit, when he spied Jennifer looking his way.
“Shit,” Jennifer ducked her head down, “I think he saw me. Did he see me?”
“Hi,” a male voice chimed, “I’m Luke Robertson. I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself last night”
Slowly, Jennifer raised her eyes to acknowledge him. His height was intimidating, easily six and a half feet tall, but his eyes and smile were inviting and friendly, putting her at ease.
Tiffany looked on, grinning like an idiot and nodding her approval.
“Can I join you?” Luke asked. He was fully in control and relaxed, a stark contrast to the roiling of Jennifer’s belly and sweaty palms.
“I, uh, well. That is we’re…” Jennifer couldn’t get the words out. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say yes or no.
“Of course you can!” Tiffany interrupted. The server dropped their food in front of them. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the man chatting with them, “Excuse me, sweetie? Can I get a to-go box? I just remembered I have somewhere to be,” Tiffany slid out of the booth.
Jennifer shot her a look of death. She was mortified at the thought of being alone with this man. Didn’t she just finish telling her how creepy she found this guy?
Tiffany picked up her plate, “Sit, Luke. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just deal with this at the counter,” she winked at Jennifer before taking off. She made a mental note to deal with her later.
