Stranger Creatures 2: Bear's Edge

by Christina Lynn Lambert

  The last serious boyfriend she’d had had been Hunter, nearly ten years ago. Shayla hadn’t cared much for the relationship thing after that. She much preferred romance novels and sappy movies to get her passion fix. Movies and books were a lot less demanding and a lot less disappointing than regular people. Not to mention there was a guaranteed happy ending in a love story. The doorbell chimed, and Shayla’s heart sped up. She was dying to know what Grant wanted to talk to her about.

  Imagine a happily ever after with Grant. Like it or not, there was something between them. But there couldn’t be anything other than that indescribable hint of something. What a shame. She sighed and opened the door. Inviting Grant inside would give her a few answers, but they might not be the ones she wanted.

  “I CAN’T WORK for you anymore,” Grant informed Shayla. She sat on her sofa and looked up at him.

  “Why?” was the only word that fell from her lips.

  Grant started to choke on the answer, to shut the whole fucking thing down, but he’d come this far.

  “Do you want more money, more vacation time, what?” She asked him this like any of that mattered to him right now.

  He shook his head. “No. That’s not it. That’s not what—”

  “I didn’t even know you were unhappy at Brass Cat.”

  Her eyes, that was what did him in. He saw her tear up. Fuck, just to be wanted and her wanting him to stay put a knot in his chest. Grant dropped to his knees to face her. “I wasn’t unhappy, Shay. I needed to find a way to do something, and this was my solution.”

  She looked at him in frustration. The muscles in her jaw tightened, and her lips pursed somewhere between mad and upset. Shayla’s big blue eyes brimmed with tears, making the brown flecks scattered within the blue irises glitter and shine. She took his breath away. Jesus, his heart was racing, and there were feelings going on he couldn’t even name.

  Time to get on with it. “I’ll still be at Brass Cat for a little while, but I won’t technically be your employee. I had Derrick help me with the legal part of creating my own financial management company. One of my main goals right now is to focus on hiring employees and interns, then send them to work for different companies who need their services. So, I would appreciate it if you would contract with G. Mitchell Financial Solutions and use me for your financial management services, for now anyway. That way I wouldn’t technically be your employee, more of an independent contractor.”

  “Okay, well, yeah, of course, but—”

  Grant put his hand over hers and hoped he wasn’t making an idiot out of himself, and if he was, well, he had a new company and a chance to make extra money. And the bear would know that at least Grant had sacked up and tried. “I did it because it was the only way to ask you out. I tried not to think about it, to ignore the way I felt, but I couldn’t. Not anymore. So it was either this or just pick up and leave.”

  Shay laced her fingers through his. “So you’re not leaving me?”

  Not leaving her? She didn’t even mention Brass Cat. The kind of hope of what could be, might someday be, nearly ran rampant through his body. He needed to step cautiously—shitty luck and rejection could trip him up at any time, but he still needed to take a step.

  “Not until you want me to.”

  Shayla nodded and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “You made me cry on my birthday.” She laughed through the tears. They just kept spilling down her cheeks. Grant helped her to her feet.

  “I’m sorry, baby doll. I hoped like hell you would say yes.”

  Grant’s hands on her shoulders shook, ever so slightly. He prayed she didn’t notice. Shayla looked up, and through the shine of her tears, he saw the moment she realized what he really wanted.

  “You want more than just a casual thing, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” His voice sounded low and thick, not even close to the cool, laid-back tone he’d tried for. “I want to be the only one you date.”

  “Grant, I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

  Shayla rose on her tiptoes, but she was still a little too short. Grant leaned down and brushed his lips across hers, gently. He was huge and ungraceful, forever forgetting his strength. He broke stuff like a bull in a china shop, but he vowed to be extra gentle with Shayla. Shayla licked his bottom lip and sighed. He couldn’t get enough of her soft lips, so he pulled her closer.

  She stroked her hands down his back, and he tensed up when she passed her palms over raised tissue and indentations he knew she’d be able to feel through the fabric of his T-shirt. She wrapped her arms around his back, and he relaxed under her touch.

  Each swipe of her tongue against his sent a shock of electrifying heat through his body. Grant came ridiculously close to slipping his fingers under Shayla’s skirt. He wanted to feel her silky skin, to touch her and taste her. He wanted it all so badly moisture seeped from the head of his cock. Shayla wanted him too. Being a bear shifter meant his senses, even while in human form, were incredible. He could smell her sweet desire, not just the barely there scent he’d sometimes caught from her before, but strong and sweet and very clearly for him. Knowing she wanted him so badly made his balls tighten and his chest ache.

  When Shayla moved her hands from his hips to his ass to pull him closer, Grant’s control slipped, and he grabbed a fistful of her dress and pushed it up her thigh. The daring look she gave him caused him to pull them both down to the sofa. He lay back and tugged Shayla on top of him.

  She moved to straddle him, and Grant slid his fingers up the smooth, warm skin of her exposed thigh. He needed more. He cupped her pussy and used his thumb to trace her clit over her soaked panties. The whimper she gave made Grant kiss her harder. Before, when he’d kissed a woman, he’d felt that he was somehow betraying Maya’s memory. There were no feelings of betrayal nagging at him anymore. He tried and repeatedly failed to keep his kiss with Shayla from becoming hard and needy.

  When Shayla gripped his arousal through his jeans and his cock jerked in her hand, he knew he had to put a stop to her touch before he came two strokes after she pulled out his dick. Her grip on his heart was even tighter than her grip on his cock. The desire burning in his chest was something more dangerous than just wanting to be inside her. So much more. Memories of Maya usually hurt like hell, but he should try to go back to surviving on memories before he went too far with Shayla, before things got too real.

  Shayla was flesh and bone, real and right now, a living tornado force of a woman. She could hurt him. She could leave him. She could die. He had a solution to that last fear, though. If his being a bear shifter didn’t make her want to immediately jump ship, he could initiate her, make her a shifter too. She’d be even stronger in that form, but she still might never want forever with him.

  Grant wanted more from Shayla than he should right then, and he needed to want less, or at least not so much at once. He needed to pull back from the edge and get himself under control, but he couldn’t do that with her touching him. He had the perfect distraction for her. He ripped her lacy panties off because they were in his way.

  Shayla’s heartbeat quickened against his chest, and she whispered his name when he pushed two thick fingers inside her drenched pussy. He’d meant to go slower, start with one and work up to two, but she gripped the back of his neck, and her voice was so sexy in his ear when she said, “Don’t stop.”

  He twisted and worked his fingers inside her tight core, and she rode his hand. With his free hand, he worked the tiny buttons at the top of her dress to reveal her satiny bra. He pulled the cups downward, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Take it off,” he ordered her. She grinned and pulled the lacy thing off so slowly he nearly lost his mind.

  Her nipples were tight, and she gave a little moan when he rolled the sensitive tip of one between his fingers. He wanted to pinch down on the tight buds, to make her yelp. And goddamn, he wanted to come on her tits one day. Right now he needed to focus on her, so she’d forget about him.

  S
hayla unbuttoned his pants and started to lower his fly. Grant caught her hand.

  “If your hand goes around my cock, I’m gonna take that dress off you and come all over your stomach. Don’t touch me unless you want that to happen.” The warning came out sounding harsh.

  “Do it, then,” Shayla whispered in his ear. Such a sexy command. Grant couldn’t ignore it. He grabbed her shoulders and shifted their position so he straddled her, then found the zipper at the back of her dress and lowered it. He knew better than to mess up a woman’s clothes, so he tossed the black-and-red dress onto a chair near the fireplace. Shayla lay beneath him, naked and beautiful, her fair skin not a snowy white but glowing warm and rosy, and her cheeks and chest flushed a deep pink. A bikini wax had left her with a small strip of honey-blonde fur he wanted to stroke. A red jewel glittered at her belly.

  “So sexy,” he murmured, fingering the ruby stud in her pierced belly button. “I used to wonder if you had any more piercings besides your ears.”

  “There’s one more piercing I’m debating on getting.” She pressed her finger against her clit.

  “Fuck, yes.” He didn’t even try to backtrack his enthusiasm for her possible future clit piercing. He pressed his thumb to her and drew circles, teasing and soft, then harder and more calculated.

  When he pushed his fingers back inside her pussy, Shayla bit her lip and let out the sexiest sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh. She unzipped his pants, and he corkscrewed his fingers inside her, intending to distract her some more. Her shoulders went tight, her breathing quickened, and she gasped out a breath before telling him to slow down.

  “It’s okay to come, baby doll. Don’t be shy. I’ll take care of you.”

  And her reply to him did things to his brain he couldn’t identify. “I want you to come with me.” She pulled out his cock and wrapped her hand around it. She gasped, and her eyes were wide. “God, Grant, do they even make condoms in your size?”

  “Extra-large ones.” He chuckled at her delight in his size but groaned when she tightened her grip around his length and stroked him from root to tip. She swirled her thumb around the juices easing from the head of his cock for a moment before stroking his length again. He worked her faster with his fingers.

  Shayla tilted her head back and let out a shaky moan before her whole body tensed, then bowed. He kept his thumb over her clit and pinched hard, rolling it between his fingers. “God, Grant!” She met his gaze, and he couldn’t look away from her as she broke apart. Watching pleasure take over her features pushed Grant over the edge that he’d been trying to ease back from. He couldn’t hold out any longer so closed his fist over hers, and the pressure gliding up and down his shaft built into something he couldn’t contain. After a few more strokes, a river of pent-up need flooded from him in waves across her breasts and stomach.

  Grant took in some ragged breaths as he and Shayla sat up and leaned against each other. They stayed that way for a moment until Shayla kissed his cheek.

  “I need to go clean up.”

  “Better grab your underwear.” Grant gestured toward the sexy panties he’d ripped apart. He shouldn’t have lost his cool like that, tearing her clothes from her. Shayla just giggled and grabbed the torn scraps. Grant zipped his pants, then smoothed his hair back into some sort of order. His brain had scrambled, and he spent a few minutes trying to get his head together. When Shayla came back into the living room all dressed and smoothed out again, he stalked over to her and kissed her. He couldn’t get enough, but she wasn’t pulling away.

  What if she’s as crazy for me as I am for her?

  That’s pretty fucking likely. The bear’s smirking tone rang out in Grant’s head. What the fuck did the bear know about it, anyway?

  Shayla sucked on his tongue and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. He groaned and had to pull away before his descending incisors could cut her lip. Shit! He usually had better control over that kind of thing. He forced his incisors back into his mouth and caught her up in another spectacular, near-orgasm-inducing kiss. Before things could hit out-of-control speed again, he pulled back and held Shayla against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I’m glad I don’t have to pretend our first kiss didn’t happen,” she confessed. He hugged her tighter, and the doorbell put an end to their sweet moment.

  “The catering service,” Shayla said. She moved from his embrace and let the caterers in to start setting up. Then she sat back down next to him, looking flushed and happy, with no idea that she already owned a piece of his heart. Grant handed her the box he had left on the end table after arriving earlier, all nervous and scared that he was going to make a fool of himself.

  “Happy birthday, Shay.”

  She opened the flowery wrapping paper to find a box with an even smaller box inside. The small box revealed a diamond heart pendant with a little gold bear sitting inside the heart. A round diamond filled the center of the bear’s chest. The pendant was intricate and beautiful, like Shayla. The bear inside the heart said it all without saying anything out loud.

  “Grant, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed and kissed his cheek. “You know how much I love bears.”

  He smiled and wondered if she would like the bear inside him. He could hope, but hope could wrap around his heart like barbed wire and shred him with its metal claws if he wasn’t careful.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Grant found himself in panic mode about out about how fast he was falling for Shayla. Her sweet, hot mouth against his had turned him into a panty-ripping beast. If he couldn’t keep himself in check, he might get too intense, scare her off. Shayla kissed like a goddess and made him want to worship her. His past, the depth of his feelings for her might make her drop him like a bad one-night stand if he laid out all his cards on the table at once. The bear knew what he needed to distract him. The prickling feeling that went from the base of Grant’s skull and down his spine meant he better move his ass out the back door and shift before the bear made a mess of his living room.

  Grant’s enormous backyard made a good place for the bear to be free. A long, mindless run through the woods in gigantic bear form left Grant’s mind a little more centered, less worried. Since clothes didn’t magically shift with a shifter, the trees were good cover to hide a bear or a naked man. The big sturdy oak was his favorite, and he leaned his back against the thick trunk, naked after a shift back to human form, enjoying the quiet of the morning. Grant’s house in Great Oaks was a far cry from the rundown little house in south Jersey he’d lived in as a kid. The yard in the sketchy neighborhood of Bentwood had been about the size of a living room and always contained cigarette butts and glass, no matter how hard he had worked to keep it nice.

  The rented house there had been shelter but never anything more, though Grant had tried. He’d painted the walls himself when he was twelve, using money he’d gotten from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. The fresh coat of paint helped, but it couldn’t hide the truth. The shabby house usually held very little real food but plenty of yelling and ass kicking from his mom, from one of his mom’s many boyfriends, and from his mom’s drunk-ass friends. His mind drifted back to a day that had changed his hungry, sad existence to something else entirely.

  * * * *

  On one particular Friday after school, the change jar hidden in the back of his closet stood empty. His funds from his summer jobs of cutting grass and fixing things around neighbors’ houses were depleted, and he hadn’t seen his mom for days. Who knew if she had been working? Who knew if she’d share her paycheck? He knew he needed to figure out how to get something to eat, however he had to do it, before he started drooling when he daydreamed of cheeseburgers.

  Green Market Square was a few miles away. The shopping center had a pizza place, skating rink, arcade, and small grocery store. Anderson Farm Market was usually pretty quiet in the afternoon. He had stolen from there before, but he had paid for things there too. At fifteen, Grant had just enough prid
e left to know he would only steal when necessary.

  The situation looked optimal, with almost nobody in the store. Grant grabbed a few things, stuffed them under his oversize shirt, and was planning to walk out of the door when two guys caught him and dragged him outside. One punch to the temple sent him to the ground, dizzy. He tried to stand and instead found himself being dragged by the collar through the alley, over gravel and some other sharp stuff. The next punch landed so hard in his gut that he puked—just liquid; there wasn’t enough food in his belly for anything else. He was so tired, hungry, and dizzy it only took a shove to send him to the ground.

  “Shit, look at his back.” The dark-haired guy with a douchebag frat-boy haircut sounded freaked.

  “Lots of blood. Yeah, we fucked him up pretty good.” The dude with the shaved head sounded scared even under his prideful tone. Fear didn’t stop the dickwad from calling Grant a racist name and telling him he shouldn’t have been stealing in the first place. The racist name? Grant really had no idea, still didn’t, what racist term would even apply to him. His mother had fair skin and green eyes, and Grant had never known his father. His mother would only tell him that his father was a terrible man, mean and rough with women.

  The dark-haired guy gave Grant one last halfhearted kick to the side before commenting to his neo-Nazi-looking friend, “Let’s get back to the store. We’ve got shit to unload.”

  After the need to puke again had finally left him, Grant forced his body up, took a few steps, got dizzy, and sat back down, shoulder against the brick wall, waiting, breathing, trying to be older, harder, and stronger, not a scared, hungry kid in pain.

  “Grant!”

  The voice calling his name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Three guys and a girl, a beautiful dark-skinned, dark-haired girl in a track uniform, were walking toward him. Shit!