Clive's lips wandered down her neck, over his chest, focusing on one breast, sucking gently before dropping to his knees. Beth leaned against the shower wall, feeling Clive's lips and tongue working down her body. His tongue danced around her navel, then moved directly above her wetness before kissing the inside of each thigh. Beth moaned, ready for his mouth to move directly between her legs.
She grabbed his thick hair, guiding him exactly where she wanted him to go. His lips worked slowly at first, sucking and kissing, his tongue darting over every inch of her. Within minutes of bliss, pleasure was overwhelming her body. She grabbed his hair tighter, making sure that he wouldn't stop. Her pleasure built until she could contain it no longer, and then she was cumming, screaming in pleasure, everything over the last few days finally melting away.
Gasping, she leaned against the shower wall, her body wracked with pleasure. Clive stood up and came close to her, kissing her, pressing his body against her own. She felt his thickness and lifted one leg, lowering herself down onto him. With a gasp of pleasure from her and a moan from Clive, he entered her warmth. He went slow at first, letting her adjust to him, then together, they moved into a rhythm.
The warm water washed over their bodies and they became as one. Beth rocked her body against his as he pushed, and soon, the pleasure was at its peak for both of them. Beth pushed it off for as long as she could, but it was too much. It hit her, hard, and she bit into Clive's shoulder as she came. She felt his member throbbing inside of her, filling her up with his seed. He let out a bestial roar of pleasure as he came.
Together, they collapsed onto the floor of the shower. Clive's large arms wrapped completely around Beth's body. For once, she realized, she felt safe. Protected. Clive would never let harm befall her. She snuggled up against his large body and let the warm water wash all of her worries away.
Road Bears
Grit and Growl Book I
by
Becca Fanning
Carrie was screwed. It was her first night on the job and she had no idea what she was doing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t gone through the training. She even took notes! But something about moving through a training scenario and actually dealing with customers and their orders and the rush and loud music just made her feel frazzled.
A week ago she had applied as a waitress at a dive-y bar. She had no previous waitressing experience, and the woman who took her application looked at her resume dubiously.
“I, uh, don’t have a whole lot of experience.” Carrie, who was usually the epitome of cool, calm and collected, felt ill. Her stomach rolled as the tattooed woman looked down the list of jobs.
“I can see that.” The woman’s voice was rough, like she was a big smoker.
“I do have a lot of customer service experience though!” She tried to sound positive. Carrie had been working a fantastic administrative assistant job for the last three years. They hired her when she was fresh out of college and she loved the company. It was a start-up that worked to promote literacy in low income areas. She got to talk to publishers to convince them to donate books, she convinced authors to donate time to go to schools and read to kids, and she helped organize tutoring programs.
It was a dream come true for an education major with a desire to change the world. And then it ended. Three weeks ago all of the major investors backed out and Carrie was left jobless. She needed to pay rent. So there she was. Applying for a job at what was basically a biker bar.
The woman pursed her lips. “Yes, you do.” She put the paper on the bar top and Carrie could see her long, talon-like finger nails. They were painted bright red. “Here’s the truth, darlin’: I need a waitress immediately, and you’re the only person who has applied. So I’ll take you on only if you promise to take your training really seriously.”
Carrie nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this!”
In retrospect, perhaps she shouldn’t have said that. She must have jinxed herself.
From almost the moment her shift started people kept walking in. And Jeanette, the woman who had hired her, wasn’t lying. The bar really was understaffed. Jeanette was at the bar, and an enormous man named Tiny was the line cook. Carrie was the only waitress. She hadn’t had a minute to catch her breath during her whole shift. She was only three hours in and her feet were aching, her back hurt, and her cheeks were sore from all the smiling she was doing.
She loved being busy but this was a whole new type of busy. The bar was large, probably the biggest one she’d ever been in. There was the bar counter top at the far end of the room, away from the door. Between the door and the counter, there were at least two dozen tables. There was a jukebox that was constantly playing loud music, and there were televisions turned to sports channels, and pool tables.
She heard the door open and a blast of noise met her. A group of bikers had just walked into the bar. There were quite a few of them, and they were all huge. One of them waved her over and she pulled out her little pad. It was hard to hear over the blasting music, and she couldn’t even read his lips very well because the lighting was so bad. But the order was simple enough: a bunch of beers.
Carrie smiled and headed over to the bar to fill the glasses. She piled five glasses onto a tray and carefully balanced the tray on her hand. She started across the bar, hell bent on making the trip across the large room without spilling a drop.
Her arm was aching with the weight of the drinks, but she was halfway there.
“Carrie!” Jeanette called her name. Carrie slowly turned around to look at her boss. Jeanette pointed to the food sitting on the bar. Another order was up. Carrie nodded to show that she understood, and turned around, ready to head back to the bikers.
“Brian! Watch out—“
Carrie barely had time to take in the frantic warning before she suddenly slammed into the broadest chest she had ever encountered in her life. Her tray went flying and her ass connected to the hard, sticky floor.
“Shit!” The expletive ripped from her lips before she could stop it.
The sound of glass shattering and liquid sloshing caused the bar to go silent. Carrie slowly opened her eyes and surveyed the damage surrounding her. Broken glass was everywhere, and her legs were soaked with beer. And one of the bikers was on the floor too. His chest and jacket were soaked with liquid.
Carrie felt tears fill her eyes. She was going to lose her job. On the very first day too. Her heart sank. How was she going to find a new job on such short notice? The idea of asking her estranged parents for money for rent made her cringe.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His voice was somehow both gravely and soft, gruff but concerned.
She blinked up at him through tears and nodded, even though okay was the absolute last thing she was. She was going to be fired. Her body was tense, waiting for him to berate her for crashing into him…but he didn’t. He stood up and reached down to her. She was still for a moment. “Take my hand,” he said. “I’ll help you up.” She took his hand. It was incredibly warm.
He was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. He must have been at least six a few inches over six feet, and it looked like every inch of him was covered in muscles. It didn’t look like he worked out a lot though; it seemed more like he had a very physical job. He was wearing a flannel shirt, and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Almost every inch of his forearms were covered in tattoos. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were a shade of gold she had never seen before.
She realized she was staring and was still holding on to his hand. She blushed and quickly let go, immediately missing the warmth of his large hand.
Jeanette appeared next to them. “Damnit Carrie! This is exactly the sort of thing I didn’t want happening! Clean this mess up.”
Carrie bit back her tears and began to bend to pick up some of the larger pieces of glass. She was upset but she needed to handle things. “Don’t be sore at the new girl, Annie. It was my fault. I wasn’t watc
hing where I was going.”
“Bri—“
The man interrupted Jeanette. “Let the guys clean this up. Your new girl is bleeding, and she needs to get cleaned off.”
Bleeding? Carrie looked down at her leg. She was indeed bleeding. One of the broken glasses must have cut up her leg when she fell.
“Shit,” Jeanette drew the word out. “Go get cleaned up. Both of you,” she growled.
The biker, whose name was apparently Brian, turned to the other four men that he was with. “Aiden, Will, Brett, Tyler, some help please!” Four men peeled away from the larger group.
“You’re always getting yourself into trouble, Bri,” one of them said. He was blonde and Carrie thought he was almost as good looking as Brian, but not quite.
“This is the smallest mess you’ve ever had to clean up, Will. Stop complaining.” Brian took the cloths from Jeanette and tossed them at his friends. “Get to work. I have to help a damsel in distress.” Brian turned to wink at Carrie.
“You put her in distress,” one of the other men grumbled.
“And now I’m fixing it, like a polite gentleman.” Brian turned to Carrie. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Carrie.”
“Let’s get that cut cleaned up.” She was about to protest, she could clean up the mess and deal with her leg by herself, but Brian’s hand went to the middle of her back and he began to steer her to the bar. He led her to the bar’s small, single person bathroom and turned on the water. He pulled his motorcycle cut off and let it sit at the edge of the sink. He pushed the toilet seat down.
“Let up, darlin’. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
“It’s really okay, I can deal with it. Go back to your friends; I’ve ruined your evening enough.”
“You ruined my evening? It’s the other way around. Let me handle this as a way to make it up to you.”
Carrie put her foot up on the lid of the toilet and Brian crouched slightly to examine the cut. In the confines of the small bathroom, Carrie realized how truly big Brian was. Carrie wasn’t a tiny girl; she was a bit over average height for a girl, so it took a lot to make her feel truly dainty. Brian managed to do that with his very presence. He stood up and grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser, wet them, and began to rub the beer and blood off her leg.
His actions were surprisingly tender. He wasn’t the sort of burly guy who never knew where his limbs were. His movements seemed effortlessly controlled. He tossed the soiled paper into the trash. “How’s it look, doc?” Carrie asked.
“It’s not too bad.” Carrie snuck a peak at her calf. The cut was long, but didn’t look too deep. He opened the small cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small box of bandages and some rubbing alcohol. She winced when he applied some of the alcohol to the cut. “Don’t want you to get an infection,” he said sympathetically.
“It seems like you’ve done this before.” It did. Carrie would have thought he was a doctor since he was handling her cut with such a blasé, no nonsense demeanor.
“I’ve patched up some road rash in my time. So a little cut isn’t too big of a deal.” He put the Band-Aid on her and smiled. “You’re good to go.”
Carrie looked down at her leg. He used two large bandages to cover the cut. “Thank you. Let me buy you a drink or something to make up for spilling yours.” Carrie surprised herself. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but she was never one to so forwardly ask a guy out. But something about Brian was…magnetizing.
He laughed, and it felt like velvet against her skin. “I should be the one buying you a drink.” She opened her mouth to protest but he continued. “What time do you get off tonight?”
“Not until closing time.”
He began to wipe the leather cut off. She hoped the beer hadn’t damaged it. “Well, I’ll see if I can convince Jeanette to let you off for a little bit when things slow down.”
Carrie smiled. “Good luck with that.”
“Annie has a sweet spot for me. She’ll be fine with it.”
“If you say so.” There was a moment of silence. “I should get back to work.”
“I’ll finish cleaning up and then come find you. Alright, darling’?”
“Okay.” Carrie slowly left the bathroom. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, or if she felt Brian’s eyes on her as she walked away.
Things finally slowed down around ten. It seemed like all the regulars were in the bar already, and walk-in business wasn’t something that the bar counted on. As Carrie took orders and brought people food and drink, she felt eyes on her. Every once in a while she would look up and she would meet Brian’s eyes. If his friends noticed, they always whooped and hollered at her.
Carrie had a moment to herself after she brought another round of drinks to one of her tables. She surveyed the bar. No one seemed to need anything. She leaned against the bar top and took a deep breath.
She was only alone for a moment before Brian joined her. He waved Jeanette over. She didn’t look thrilled but she walked over anyway. “I’m going to borrow your lovely waitress for a little bit.” Jeanette raised one painted-on eyebrow. “I promise to let her do her job if anyone needs anything.” He put one hand on his chest and raised the other one. “Scouts honor.”
Jeanette rolled her eyes. “You Clan boys are going to be the death of me.”
Brain laughed. “You love us, Annie.”
“I do. But no more trouble or messes tonight. Okay?”
“I can’t make any promises.” Brian’s grin was infectious. “Can I get two beers?”
Jeanette quickly filled two pints and handed them to him. Brian handed one off to Carrie. She took it from him, once again struck by how enormous his hands were.
“How long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you around before.” His eyes caressed her face, and she could feel heat rising. It was almost as if she was prey, but nothing so sinister.
“Today is my first day, actually.”
“Welcome to the only shifter bar in the state.” Carrie raised an eyebrow. Shifters? Carrie had never met a shifter before. She had heard of them, hell, who hadn’t? But never before interacted with one. She supposed even if she had met one, she probably wouldn’t know. Even though the existence of people who could change forms had been common knowledge for more than fifty years, they mostly just kept their abilities out of the conversation. There were laws that made sure they couldn’t be discriminated against, but if a company didn’t ask, no one had to say anything.
“Oh! I didn’t realize that it was a shifter bar.” She felt naïve. But it didn’t bother her. It didn’t change her attraction to the man in front of her. She inspected him, wondering if there were markers suggesting what he turned into.
He laughed. “You can ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“What I turn into. It’s not like a faux pas or anything.”
Carrie couldn’t help but be curious. She wondered how young shifter kids dealt with everything. Were they home schooled? She wished she had her old job back because suddenly she wanted to put together a program for shifter kids. “Okay, what are you then?”
“I shift into a bear.” At his words, Carrie snorted. She couldn’t help but imagine a bear riding a motorcycle. “What’s so funny, darlin’?” His golden eyes were sparkling, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“I just imagined a bear riding a motorcycle.” Brian grinned at her pronouncement.
“He looks like a bear on a motorcycle even in his human form!” Brian turned to one of his friends, who had come to the bar with empty tankards.
“You’re the best wingman I’ve ever had, Tyler.”
“I do my best, bro. We’re going to head out.” Brian nodded, and Tyler turned to go back to the table. Brian drained the rest of the beer, and turned to Carrie.
“It was good to meet you, even if the circumstances were a bit…wet and sticky.”
Carrie laughed. “I pro
mise not to spill anything on you next time.”
Brian grinned. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when his friends shouted for him. “Until next time.” He fixed her with a look that made her knees weak, then turned around to join his buddies.
Brian showed up at the bar every night she was scheduled to work, which was most nights. He would often be there with his friends, his burly biker gang, but sometimes he would come alone. Those were the nights she liked the most. He would order food and a beer, and watch her. She found herself putting an extra wiggle in her step as she crossed from the bar to the tables. He would sit centrally, so she often had to pass him, and when he did his hand would brush against her arm and he would nod his head towards her and mutter, “Sweetheart.”
She didn’t even have to pretend to smile at bitchy customers, because she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. He was gorgeous and she was a little smitten. Okay, a lot smitten. She had never fallen for the bad boy before, and Brian was the epitome of bad boy: he was in a motorcycle gang, was covered in tattoos, and was a shifter.
It was nearing the end of her shift a week after she ran into Brian, and he was still sitting at the table. Carrie and Jeanette finished cleaning down the bar and turning off the televisions. When she turned back to Brian’s table, he was gone.
Her heart sank a little, but she finished taking care of everything and then let Jeanette know she was heading out. She grabbed her purse, and her keys, and left the bar.
Her car was the only car in the front lot. But there was a motorcycle. And an enormous man seated on it. Her heart thumped uncomfortably before she realized it was Brian. She took a deep breath and headed in his direction, instead of towards her car.
He sat on his motorcycle, his legs wide. When she was close enough, she said, “Hey, I thought you left.”
Luke (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 3) Page 53
