Luke (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  “Lights back on, please,” Bill said.

  The room was bathed in fluorescent light as Carla pulled her hand back. She took the pen out of her mouth and pulled her foot back off Michael’s thigh. He took his hand back and resumed looking down at his paperwork.

  “Wow, look at the time. I’m sorry I kept everyone here so late. I wanted to introduce Michael to everyone but that won’t be happening. He is just here for today, and he’ll be handling the transition at our Maryland office. Carla, would you be a dear and just clean up the conference room a bit before locking up? Michael, I just need to see you for a moment in my office,” Bill said.

  “Yes Bill,” Carla said.

  “Of course, Mr. Carter,” Michael said. The low timbre of his voice sent shivers through Carla, whose mind was racing trying to recover this situation. In a few moments he would be gone and boarding a flight to the other side of the country. She picked up her pen and scribbled a hasty note:

  I need you. What hotel are you staying at?

  She slid it over to him, making sure none of the people walking out of the conference room noticed. He looked down and read it, then spun in his chair to face Carla. This was the first time she got to see his face clearly. His skin was smooth save for a small scar that interrupted his naturally arched eyebrows. His eyes were indeed a deep dark brown to match his hair. His lips were a pale red, and she imagined what they felt like pressed against her body. Those same lips parted into a smile, and without a word, Michael rose out of his seat, collected his things, and walked out of the conference room.

  You huge idiot, Carla thought. Her cheeks were on fire, burning with humiliation and regret. Her desperation was clear, and no one is attracted to that. She re-buckled the ankle strap on her black wedge and took a moment to collect herself. Then she stood and began to clean up the conference room. Small plates littered with muffin crumbs and partially eaten bagels were tossed into the garbage. Defeated, she threw a stack of coffee cups into the trash and stood looking out through the windows down into the bay. The sky was a deep indigo and stars were just beginning to shine.

  In the reflection of the window glass, she saw the conference door open and Michael enter. A feeling of relief swept up her body and she spun around, smiling.

  “I told Mr. Carter I forgot something. He’s on his way home. We’re the last ones here, Carla,” Michael said.

  She closed her eyes. “Say my name again.”

  “Carla,” Michael said. She opened her eyes and he was standing right in front of her. He leaned forward and brought his face next to hers. He inhaled deeply, filling himself with her scent. Her cheek brushed his as she angled her mouth up towards his, offering herself. He looked down into her eyes and placed his hands on her hips. She gasped as he lifted her and placed her butt on the conference table. His hands stayed on her hips and he moved to press himself against her. Her legs separated for him, wrapped around his waist and seized him. Locked against each other, she felt his growing arousal, snaking thickly down against his right thigh. He wasn’t even fully erect, she thought! She realized her mouth was watering and she swallowed saliva.

  Michael closed his eyes and brought his lips down to hers. Carla held her breath and pressed her pouty lips back against his. He confidently slid his tongue into her mouth and a bolt of lightning went off in her head. She had to remember to breath as he explored and plundered her mouth. She could feel herself become lubricated for him and tried to bring him closer, but it was like trying to move a statue. She pivoted her groin against him and slid her mound against his hardening rod. She wanted to scream and cry and moan, but most of all she wanted to cum.

  Michael broke off the kiss. “You poor thing,” he whispered into her ear. His hands began working the buttons of her blouse while she loosened his tie and undid his collar. Her shirt came off first, followed by his jacket, tie and shirt. He cupped her breasts, rolling and squeezing them. She dragged his mouth back to hers, needing to taste his mouth and smell him. He reached between her breasts and unlatched the front hook keeping the bra together. It popped open and her perky breasts stood bare, nipples at attention. Without skipping a beat, Michael bent down and took a breast in his mouth. He sucked and squeezed her. His tongue lapped against her nipple.

  She threw her head back and closed her eyes as he suckled. As his tongue swirled against her nipple, she felt each taste bud press against her swollen areola. His teeth began to playfully nibble, first on the breast as a whole, then working their way down to her erect nipple. She began panting, her chest rising and falling. He used his teeth to hold her nipple in place, then assaulted the sensitive tip with his tongue. He prodded, jabbed and caressed it until she was near the edge of orgasm, then released her sore breast. Without looking up at her he attacked her other one, carrying out the same torturous ministrations. Again, he brought her to the cusp of release, but when he felt her body tense up, he released her breast.

  “You bastard. I’m so close.”

  “You don’t get to come until I decide you deserve it,” Michael replied. “Now let me see the rest of you.”

  She laid down against the table and unbuttoned her pants. Michael undid her shoes, and she lifted lifted her hips as he slid her pants off. He looked down at her green form fitting panties, and she wished she’d worn a different color, something with some lace. Well, I didn’t know I’d be on my back with a gorgeous stranger about to plow me, Carla thought. Michael’s hand began at her knee and moved up toward his prize. As he leaned down to kiss her, his hand cupped her ass cheek. His eager tongue sought out hers, and he roughly massaged her ass. Without missing a beat, his hand on her ass gripped her panties and pulled them down her legs and off. Instead of letting Carla’s legs fall open, Michael held her ankles together and lifted her legs straight up into the air.

  “Your legs stay up for now,” Michael said, not asking. He released her ankles and Carla kept them pointed toward the ceiling. He got down on one knee and brought his nose close to her slit.

  “This is your true scent,” he said, inhaling her musk. Carla felt every hormone throb at this alpha male poised to rut with her.

  “What’s this? A single dewdrop,” Michael said as he flicked his tongue out and stole the bead of lust that had formed on Carla’s sex. He gently pinched the skin around Carla’s clit and tugged it back and forth, squeezing her button. Carla arched her neck back against the table and looked behind her out the windows. Lights from boats blinked on and off in the harbor. Michael’s tongue traced the outline of Carla’s mound, skipping over her clit. Soon the single dewdrop had formed a small brook, a damp line running along her entrance down her ass to the table.

  “Please Michael,” Carla begged.

  “No, no, my dear. Each time you beg for relief, I’ll put it that much further out of reach.”

  “Then let me relieve you,” Carla whimpered.

  “Now that’s the right mindset. Let me reward you.”

  Michael placed his whole mouth around Carla’s sex and sucked in a pulsing rhythm. She felt like a leaf floating in an ocean tide. Each time her drew her into his mouth, she let out a small labored breath. His hands gripped the undersides of her thighs and kept them pointing upwards. She knew she would have bruises there in the morning, and the thought of post-sex aches the next day made her more excited.

  As Michael’s tongue flicked against her clit, she began to cum. Her stifled cry became a squeal as her stomach clenched in the throes of orgasm. It felt like she had filled Michael’s mouth with her juices, but he didn’t miss a drop. Her breathing slowed, and he released her sex from his mouth.

  “Do you want to bring your legs down?” Michael asked.

  “Yes, please,” she answered.

  “You were a good girl, so I’ll allow it,”

  She brought her legs down to either side of Michael, and sat up. He stood up, and she noticed that somehow he still had his pants on during all this. His enormous bulge was threatening to rip right out of his pants. Naked, s
he scooted off the table and stood before him, looking up into his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, her tongue probing into his mouth. She tasted her own tanginess in his mouth and reveled in it. She broke off the kiss and pushed him back into one of the armless high back executive chairs around the table.

  “Are you sure I’m a good girl?” she asked.

  “I’m eager to be proven wrong,” he said, grinning wolfishly.

  Carla leaned forward and took his earlobe in her mouth. One hand went down and gripped his cock through the fabric of his pants. As she licked and probed his ear, she cooed and tugged at the hardness in her hand. His hands rested on her hips and he pulled her down, grinding her against his member.

  “Not so fast,” she said, pulling herself off him.

  “I was wrong about you: you’re not a good girl at all.” Michael said,

  “Whatever do you mean?’ she asked, the tip of one finger circling the head of his erect cock.

  “Carla,” he pleaded.

  “Shhh…” she purred, a finger on his lips.

  She bent forward and lightly bit him on the neck, nibbling her way down his hairy chest. She intermixed kisses and bites until she got to his nipple. She took it between her teeth and applied pressure. He gritted his teeth and his head fell back. Her hands found his zipper and she undid his pants. Her hand went inside and she was surprised to find he went commando. His cock throbbed as her hand glanced against it, but that wasn’t what she wanted right now. Her hand went further down until she found his sac, heavy and solid. Like thin velvet stretched over a pair of smooth river stones, she hefted them in her hand.

  “These feel...full,” she said, looking Michael in the eye.

  “To the brim.”

  “I’m going to drain them,” she said, giving them a slight squeeze. Carla worked his balls and his cock free of his pants. It stood proudly in his lap, thick and glorious. He looked down at her, his desire plain on his face. From it’s base, she ran her tongue all the way up to the tip of his manhood. Once at the top, she saw Michael’s eyes close and his breathing became ragged. She took the head of his cock in her hot wet mouth. She kept one hand cupped around his balls and gently rolled them around. She relaxed her jaw and she was able to fit more of him into her mouth. She smelled the trimmed fur at the base of his cock, and wished she could smile with such a big member in her mouth.

  Carla felt like a pure sexual being: the power she had over this stud was palpable. In no rush at all, she rose up and swirled her tongue all over the top of his cock. Then her lips formed a perfect seal around his shaft and she plunged down towards his lap. He was as far back in her mouth as he could go, and the head of his cock was definitely in her throat. She brought her mouth up and down, over and over. He moaned. She sucked.

  The balls in her hand began to tighten and pull up towards his body. Carla pulled her mouth off him. She blew cool air all over his wet cock. Michael’s eyes flew open and he looked down at her.

  “I was almost there,” he said.

  “Oh no. What will we do now?”

  Michael locked his eyes on hers, a rumble escaping his throat. In one explosive move, he grabbed her hips and stood. He put her on the table and flipped her over onto her stomach. Her feet dangled, her toes not quite reaching the office carpet below. She felt like she was hanging on a cliff’s edge. Looking straight ahead towards the large windows, she saw her own face reflected and gave herself an impish wink and smile. Michael undressed in record time.

  “I have a problem,” she said.

  “What’s that?” Michael asked, positioning himself behind her.

  “I’m not full of your cum,” she said, looking back at him over one shoulder.

  He rubbed the tip of his cock against her slick slit, tracing the whole length of her entrance. Slowly, agonizingly, teasingly he pushed forward and felt her open to accept his girth. Once the whole head was inside her, he paused and she felt her muscles contract. It had been quite a while since a living man had been inside her, and her body knew it. She was greedy for him, wanting everything he had to give her.

  Each hand grabbing a hip, Michael pushed into her, letting her tight walls adjust to him. Carla looked ahead again, focusing on his reflection looming over her. She could see his taut muscles ripple as he backed out of her then plunged in again. His knees bent as he found the right angle and he picked up his rhythm. In and out. His balls crashed into the backs of her thighs as he took her. She was his, completely and utterly. She stretched her arms wide and pressed her fingertips into the grain of the wood. Each thrust rubbed her nipples against the table, sending little sparks of pleasure through her. Michael thrust harder and faster. Carla moaned and whimpered, close to orgasm herself.

  Through the reflection, Carla could see Michael completely focused on slamming his cock in and out of her tight sex. He bit his lip and grimaced. She knew he was on the edge.

  “Cum inside me!” she commanded.

  Michael uttered a low primitive grunt as he thrust as deep as he could. She felt his balls contract and the first of several throbs travelled from the base of his cock to the tip. She felt hot sticky ropes of cum rush into her and she exploded in orgasm. A wildfire spread from her core to her toes and fingertips. She looked out across the bay and marvelled at all the stars in the sky, feeling as if she were among them. The muscles of her sex milked his cock for all his precious seed, instinctively knowing she needed all of it. He grunted and thrust again, sending another spurt into her. She lay the side of her head down against the table.

  Still inside of her, he bent down and kissed the back of her neck and her shoulders. He began to back up but her feet sprang up pulled him back into her.

  “More kisses, please,” she said with her eyes closed.

  Smiling, he bent down and kissed her neck and shoulders repeatedly.

  “When I’m done in Maryland I’ll be coming back here for another meeting,” Michael said.

  “You might forget something in the conference room again!” Carla giggled.

  FIN

  Mounted in the Stable

  by

  Becca Fanning

  Abby’s horse turned left around the last turn and she brought him to a halt. A cloud of dust settled behind her. Damnit. That last trick was not championship material. She’d have to push Wild Blue harder than he’s worked before if she wanted to make real time.

  She brought Blue around for another run. The large oval arena was still sparse at this early hour, giving her all the room she needed to practice her trick riding. The large spotlights that would illuminate the 2013 Trick Riding Championship tonight sat dormant. Most of the attendees would come for the bull riding events, but trick horse riders were a special breed.

  Abby was an experienced cowgirl, but she was new to professional competitions like this. Some of these girls grew up doing this, destined for the spotlight. She was just a rancher’s daughter, but she had natural talent. She knew the key was to pay attention to the beast under her: every sound and motion would influence her next trick.

  “Come on, Blue! Yup yup!”

  Abby started Blue off at a trot, letting his muscles warm up. His warmup tack was smooth leather, function over form. As he picked up speed, she stood up in her stirrups, timing her movements to match when Blue’s hoofs were all off the ground. His hoofs came down and Abby felt the pull of gravity against her feet: feet that still ached from ballet class.

  Abby’s athletic body was a necessary tool for both her passions: riding and dancing. They harmonized very well. Her strong thighs were able to grip Blue through the saddle and were another way to communicate with him. She sat back down in the saddle and squeezed Blue with her legs. This signal told him to maintain the same speed and be ready for her weight to go off one side.

  During the day she’d be pursuing her Master’s in Dance from Nevada Academy of the Arts. Her nights were spent riding Wild Blue around the ranch. She did ok with vaults, but strap tricks were wha
t she loved to do. She could hang every which way off a horse going full gallop and barely break a sweat. She was an adrenaline junkie. After giving her Mom enough near heart attacks, Abby thought she should try doing her wild stunts in front of a crowd.

  “Steady,” she said.

  Abby lifted her right leg out of its stirrup and crouched on Blue’s left side. She watched his broad flank tense and release with every step, sending vibrations all through her body. Her shoulder length black hair, tied up in a pony tail, bobbed up and down. The weightlessness she felt during this trick was mesmerizing: she wanted to close her eyes and imagine she was riding the wind. A slight whinny from Blue brought her back to the present. She switched to his other side and crouched there a moment before letting her free foot touch the ground. These drag moves were favorites of judges when done right, but they were hell on her calves. After a few seconds, she had to get back in the saddle.

  The prize for this competition tonight was twenty five thousand dollars. The ranch could definitely use the money since Dad passed away. Not a lot of people came to their dude ranch these days. They lived month to month, barely scraping by. Abby offered many times to drop out of her dance program, but her Mom was adamantly against it. The program was paid for through grants, and besides there was nothing on the ranch to do. If things were a little tighter some months than others, that was fine with Mom.

  “Are you here to compete or do you want some lessons?” someone called out.

  Abby looked to her left and found the lone heckler. Tonya Dewitt. Reigning stunt horse champion, and Abby’s fiercest competition. Standing behind the fencing, Tonya wore a vicious smile. Her eyes said she didn’t consider Abby to be real competition. Rumor had it Tonya had an entire room in her home for her trophies. The past four years had been nothing but victories for her, adding to an already enormous ego.