She couldn’t take it. They ripped and tore at each other. Gashes forming in both coats. Jess, feeling more helpless and insignificant than ever, stood on the sidelines and screamed.
Eventually she sat in the grass, hands over her ears, rocking to and fro staring into the darkness until a gentle hand landed on her shoulder. She started in fright and turned to see Wyatt. Blood dripped from wounds all over his body. He was a mess.
She flung her arms around his neck and clung to him. “Are you okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he said. “We heal quickly. By tomorrow there won’t even be a scratch.”
She begrudgingly let go of him and a gleam of pale flesh caught her eye in the blood soaked grass.
“Is he..?”
Wyatt’s golden eyes were sad. “No,” he said. “But he won’t bother you again. If he knows what’s good for him.”
Wyatt leaned heavily on Jess as the two of them slowly walked back towards the house. She had the rifle in her free hand and it felt like a lead weight. As they walked passed the crumpled form of Conrad lying in the grass she saw that he was a misshapen mess. Caught somewhere between human and wolf, bits of fur and skin mingled on oddly shaped body parts. His breath came in ragged bursts. There was a lot of blood. She turned away from him and looked at Wyatt who was watching her with concern. She smiled at him and in his golden eyes saw movement.
On instinct, the rifle came up as she spun around. Pushing Wyatt away, she cocked the weapon and fired. The silver bullet ripped through the leaping creature. It dropped to the ground with a wet thump.
Conrad was dead.
The sun was warm on her skin as branches waved gently over her head. She lay back on the blanket and stared up at the canopy of green above her. Wyatt shifted next to her and poured more red wine into her glass.
“This is really beautiful,” Jess said.
“It’s my secret spot,” he said with a tone of mystery in his voice. “I come here to think, I find the waterfall to be especially conducive to clear thought.”
“You rehearsed that little speech didn’t you?”
“Maybe a little, especially them big words,” he pulled a goofy face and she laughed.
“Well sir, you have outdone yourself,” she said. “The setting, the food, which is all gone I see, and the wine…”
“Still plenty of that,” Wyatt said pouring more into his glass too.
They lay down together then and laughed and spoke, their fingers intertwined. All the while the birds sang overhead and the waterfall, just a small one, trickled over the rocks into a mossy pool.
After a while Jess stood up.
“Where are you going?” Wyatt asked.
“For a swim of course,” she said and winked at him. They had been so chaste since the fight, never more than a kiss. Jess’s skin was crawling with urges, and if this was going to be another of those afternoons that drove her wild with unfulfilled desire, well the cold water looked terribly inviting.
So she stripped her sundress off, left her bra and panties on a rock and waded into the water. It was deliciously cool and sweet. Suddenly he was behind her. She could feel the warmth radiating off him.
She tried to turn around and say, “So you decided…” but it ended in a gasp, as Wyatt pulled her backwards against him hard, sliding one hand down her belly and between her thighs, working his fingers furiously. The other hand went up to cup her right breast. Squeezing it gently, pinching her nipple. Then his mouth closed on her neck, nibbling and kissing her gently. He began to suck and lick her ear lobe, sending sensations to her lower abdomen that made her want to grab him with both hands and devour him completely. She writhed in his grasp and broke free. Turning, she grinned at him.
Her lips parted hungrily as she looked at him. He was so gorgeous with water trickling down his chest, to his washboard stomach. She ran a hand from his collarbone down over his pec, along his stomach and then, pulling herself against him, round his back. He laced his fingers in her hair then, his mouth coming down on hers.
At first the kiss was gentle, tentative and then as the desire built in both of them, it became more urgent. The taste of wine and passion burning in their mouths. Jess could feel his hard muscles against her and the throb of him as he grew. She could feel the fluttering of her own stomach as he reached down and picking her up carried her out of the water.
She felt the blanket beneath her and Wyatt above. He kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts, then slid his tongue down her belly and thighs. Then sliding a finger into her he began to work her to a frenzy with his tongue doing things that Jess had to admit were exceptionally yummy. She had never felt like this before. No one had ever taken the time to find every single sweet spot she had. But he was. Wyatt was consuming her heart and mind and body. And she was loving every spine tingling second of it.
Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore and pulled his mouth up to hers. The kiss was furtive, long and deep. As though they were both searching for more pleasure in the taste of each other. Jess wanted him inside her in the worst possible way. She reached down for him and grabbed him, working him gently but firmly, feeling him grow even more in her grasp. Then she pushed him over and climbed on top of him, taking him in her mouth. Swallowing as much of him as she could. His groans filled her ears and suddenly he was sitting up, pulling her mouth off him, taking her in his arms and lifting her easily onto his lap.
As he slid inside her, Jess gasped and moaned. This was it. This was love. It was the most wonderful feeling, like she was home and safe. They began to move together, riding the beast as one. Each thrust bringing them closer and closer together until Jess didn’t know where she ended and Wyatt began.
They rose and fell until fireworks went off behind Jess’s eyes. She had never felt a rush like that before. But Wyatt didn’t stop, he flipped her over onto all fours and took her firmly from behind, kissing her back and neck. Jess felt all new urges, as he then pulled out and sat back as erect as ever. She kissed him then, taking him in her mouth again. Sucking, licking, trying to draw the pleasure out of him. He moaned and whispered things to her, how much he loved her, how much he wanted her again and again.
She climbed onto him, running her nails down his chest, feeling him enter her again and this time she had more control, more time to play with. She squeezed him inside her, drawing moan after gasp from him, until he lifted her off his lap and slammed her on to her back on the blanket, taking her breath away.
It was a bit rough, animalistic. She didn’t care. His hunger, his desire filled her and they writhed, and moaned together as the sun slid behind the trees and the world turned. Wyatt licked her neck, gently biting her nipples as he massaged her breasts. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, delighting in every rock hard inch of him.
He thrust harder and harder, his breath coming in gasps and groans. Wyatt began to moan and Jess found that she was moaning too, the air forced from her lungs in puffs. Together they found a rhythm, a steady pace, and as their desire rose, they clung to each other, moving in unison. Jess buried her face in his neck, breathing him in, licking him and tasting him. Then she felt him shudder, felt the warmth as he filled her with his love, and in that moment a miracle occurred. Never before had Jess seen the fireworks more than once in an encounter. Never had anyone taken her to these heights, to such pleasure. Her throat opened, the pleasure and release filled her and escaped through her lungs as she roared her happiness to the world in a primal scream.
Wyatt held her then, breathing heavily, his face buried in her hair. She clung to him, aware of her own heaving breaths, and when her heart rate slowed she kissed him. Again and again and again.
They lay together under a dimming sky as the stars began to come out and dance across the veil of the heavens. Jess didn’t know what the future held, but she was quite certain that Wyatt would be in it with her.
Saddled Bearback
Bear Ranchers Book II
by
Becca Fan
ning
Three Months Ago.
It was raining on his body. The drops that should have felt cold against his skin felt oddly warm as they slid over and he realized with sudden horror, into him. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real. Not now. Not while he had so much life left in him.
Andrew tried to sit up, tried to move and put the bits back in that were now lying out. They shouldn’t be out in the rain, they’ll spoil, he thought and then realized how ridiculous that was. He was dying, his guts were spilling onto the ground and the early morning thunderstorm was washing it all away.
He heard his mother’s voice. She was pleading, crying. Her face appeared above his for a moment, tear stained and with muddy streaks. He wanted to tell her it was okay, he couldn’t feel a thing, not a thing. But she was screaming, a high pitched terror scream that went on far too long. Andrew wanted her to go away. This was his last moment, surely the noise was unnecessary.
Something wet and heavy landed next to him. Andrew turned his head slowly. It weighed more than an SUV packed full of elephants. His eyes were going dim, the image of the world he had lived in for twenty-nine years fading from view from the outside inwards. It was only an illusion anyway. But he saw her there, lying in the grass, her lovely green eyes staring at him in panic and horror. Then a paw with long sharp claws came down on the side of her head. He heard the crack of her skull and closed his eyes. They would go on together. It felt good to know that she would meet him in a few seconds in the other place, and all this silliness would become someone else’s problem.
For the briefest second Andrew felt concern for his sister, it would all fall to Jamie now. Oh well she was a big girl, she’d handle it.
And with the resignation of the dying, Andrew slipped away.
The giant beast, it’s muzzle covered with blood, licked its lips and padded away while the rain fell cleaning up the mess.
Jamie watched the rain falling in a steady stream. It was unusual. Colorado generally didn’t have many days that began and ended with constant, unrelenting rain. But this was one of those days. Her thoughts turned to her mother then. Joslyn had been a wonderful woman, tall with fiery red hair, green eyes like the grass of late summer and skin that freckled in the sun. She had loved the rain.
“It’s really pouring out,” her father said. He was a big man, tall and broad shouldered with grey hair and hazel eyes. His skin was tanned golden brown and he placed a gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulder as he leaned down to peer out at the grey day.
“Not a good day for farming, but at least it gives us a bit of a break,” he said and chuckled. “And I have the new cowhand starting today.”
“I can take him round if you like?” Jamie offered. She was sitting on a window seat with her legs tucked up under her, a cup of coffee cooling on the window sill. “Let him get the lay of the land.”
“That might be a good idea,” her father said smiling. “But you have paperwork to do, don’t you? Maybe Oliver could take him around.”
“Oliver and I did the paperwork last night, dad. Anyway we wouldn’t want him to get his hair wet now would we?” Jamie said, a sly grin on her lips. To her mind her cousin was ill suited to farm life, having been raised in the city.
“Play nice with the boys, Hon. I know you’re tougher than all of them, but we need the help okay?” and her father left the room.
Jamie sighed.
There was a knock at the front door and she heard voices, then the creak of the wooden panels in the floor as people stepped on them on the way into the living room where she was sitting.
“And my daughter Jamie has offered to take you round,” her father was saying as he opened the door and stepped into the room. A young man followed. He was almost as tall as her father, with the same broad shoulders and narrow waist her mother had pronounced perfect in a man. His blonde hair was damp and hanging in his eyes, and he had a smile that would make demons of angels. That was another of her mother’s sayings. Jamie felt the bittersweet pang of remembrance and wanting to hide the tears building in her eyes, she stood up.
She hadn’t realized that she had been sitting for so long. But she couldn’t feel her feet as they touched the ground, and suddenly she landed heavily on her butt on the window seat again.
“Woah, what did you put in your coffee this morning?” her father asked laughing.
“Nothing,” she said feeling the blush start, “I’ve been sitting too long is all.” It took two tries, with the horrible sensation of pins and needles in her legs, before Jamie finally stood up and stamped her feet to get some life back in them.
“Jamie, this is Jesse Crowe. Jesse, this is my daughter Jamie,” her father said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Well I’m pleased to meet you,” Jesse said holding out his right hand for her to shake. Jamie took it and shook it in the most business-like manner she could, while looking into his unusually bright eyes. She had never seen eyes like that before. They looked almost golden.
“So are you going to take him around or stare at him all day?” her father said.
“Now Mr. Campbell,” Jesse said smiling, “I’ve been known to have this effect on ladies. Don’t you worry, it wears off.” His self-satisfied grin made Jamie want to slap him.
“This way,” she said and headed for the front door.
“You’re not going out in this, are you?” a voice said. It was coming from the stairs to the upper level of the house. Jamie didn’t have to look to know whose voice it was.
“You’re welcome to come with us, Oliver,” she said as sweetly as she could, which where Oliver was concerned, wasn’t very at all.
“But it’s raining,” he said coming down the stairs. He was tall, like the rest of her father’s family with the same straight dark hair, high cheek bones and olive skin that Jamie shared with her father. But where her eyes were her mother’s, Oliver had grey eyes, like the sky at that moment. He looked passively at Jesse.
“Who’s this?”
“This is Jesse, our new cowhand,” Jamie said.
Oliver’s face showed surprise, “I thought we had decided we couldn’t afford anyone else, Uncle Ander?”
Jamie’s father took Oliver by the shoulders and led him away, “We need the help Oliver,” he said. “Since,” he paused and Jamie held her breath willing him not to say it. Saying it over and over made it all the more real, and her mother and brother’s deaths were a wound that was far too fresh to visit. “Come, I’ll make you some coffee,” he finished steering Oliver to the kitchen.
Jamie let out her breath and handed Jesse a yellow poncho. It was raining lightly at the moment, but it was a long ride out to the cattle, and she didn’t like the idea being soaked to the skin. He took it with a playful bow that made her smile in spite of herself. She took a red poncho and they stepped out into the rain.
“So who was the wonderful ray of sunshine?” Jesse asked. He had a great voice, Jamie noticed. It was smooth, not too deep and not too high. He matched his long legged gate perfectly to her shorter one, with her being a little ahead of him. He seemed so happy in his skin, as though he knew exactly what his body could and couldn’t do.
“Oh, that was my cousin Oliver,” Jamie said pulling the face that she always pulled when thinking about her cousin.
“He doesn’t seem to fit in,” Jesse said flatly. “What’s his problem?”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with your duties on the ranch,” Jamie said hotly leading Jesse around the barn to the stables on the far side. The dirt and gravel drive was mostly swamp and mud at the moment. They splashed up water and Jamie was glad of her knee high boots.
“I’m just trying to get the lay of the land,” Jesse said casually. “You know if we’re gonna work together, we should at least try to get along. You know for the sake of the cows.” He pulled a face at her.
KIKO (MC Bear Mates Book 3) Page 113
