Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  “He’d be good at that.” She shifted to lean her head against Armand’s shoulder and softly sighed. In her mind, she could envision each person he spoke of, each change he’d made to the Broken Antler. The bar had been like her home.

  “Are you all right?” He placed a finger under her chin and tipped her head so their eyes met.

  “Yes. Maybe a bit homesick.”

  “You don’t have to be. You—”

  “No.” She pressed her fingers to his mouth, not wanting to be scolded yet again for her choice. “Don’t go there, Armand. Please? At least not tonight.”

  He hesitated and then nodded, though she could tell he wasn’t pleased.

  Trying to soften the mood, she reached up and pulled him closer. “Let’s just enjoy our evening.” She ended the comment with a kiss and then a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Your beard.”

  “You don’t like it?” He reached up and stroked his whiskers.

  She examined him critically. “It tickles but it’s a good look for you trimmed like this. Better than the bushy beard.”

  A crooked smile twisted his lips. “That’s what Ryne said.”

  “Ryne really said that?”

  “I believe his exact phrase was that I looked like a wild man.”

  “Well,” she chose her words carefully. “As I recall, you used to be pretty furry. This is a more civilized style.”

  “Being ‘civilized’ can be very constraining.” He made a face. “However, if you like it, I’ll keep it this way.”

  “Oh no, you need to like it, too. You can’t live your life trying to please other people. If it makes you feel good, if you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

  “Really? Well then…”

  He cupped her face in his hands and studied her intently, his gaze drifting over her features before he slowly leaned closer stopping mere inches away. Electricity sparked in the small gap that separated them, her heart beating faster.

  “Making you happy is what makes me happy.” He breathed the words, his lips brushing hers.

  On a soft exhale she returned the kiss, pulling him closer, savouring the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body pressing her backwards, the woodsy scent of his cologne.

  The sofa creaked as they moved, not made for a man of his size to stretch out on and, with a frustrated grumble, he pulled back. “Merde. This is not going to work.”

  “My bed’s a lot more comfortable.”

  He stilled. “Are you sure?”

  “That it’s comfortable?” She loved teasing him.

  “Lucy.” He spoke her name in a low, warning tone.

  It sent a shiver of excitement down her spine even as she gave a soft laugh. Tonight, she had the confidence she’d lacked the previous evening. Maybe it was because of the break-in earlier or maybe it was the knowledge this might be her only chance to be with him. Whatever the case, she stood and extended her hand. “Armand, I’ve been sure for years. You’re the one who was dragging his feet.”

  Something flashed in his eyes but before she could decide what is was, he surged up from the sofa, swung her into his arms and carried her to her room.

  He set her down near the bed, his hands resting lightly on her waist, savouring the closeness, the way her scent surrounded him, the feel of her breasts brushing his chest with each breath. She’d said he’d been dragging his feet and his inner bear had concurred. Years had been lost due to his caution, but no more.

  Carefully, he removed her glasses, perching them like an Alice band on her head then studying her face, trailing a finger down her cheek to her jaw, marveling at her soft skin and perfect complexion, the fullness of her lips, the blue of her eyes.

  “Ah Lucy, tu es tellement belle.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to extend the caress towards her temple except she pulled away.

  “Don’t.”

  He eased back. “Did I hurt you? Is the scar still tender?”

  “No. It’s just not… The puckered skin… Well, you wouldn’t want to touch it.”

  “A little scar makes no difference to me. You’re beaut—”

  She pressed her hand to his mouth, shaking her head. “You don’t have to keep saying that. I know I’m not as pretty as I once was and it’s okay.” She lifted her chin. “I’m worth more than my appearance.”

  He moved her hand from his mouth to his chest, pressing it over his heart. “I agree. You’re worth a great deal regardless of how you look but to me you’re lovely both inside and out and always will be. Scar or no scar.”

  “My body is still good.” She shrugged and looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the mood.”

  “You didn’t. It’s important to discuss, though. You have no need to be ashamed.” He took her by the chin and studied her critically. “Your nose is adorable, your lashes are long and your smile can light up a room. But even if you weren’t already beautiful on the outside, it wouldn’t matter because inside you’re beautiful too. You have a great sense of humour. You’re smart and hardworking. Your heart is filled with a kindness that shines through your eyes and draws people to you. And your scar…” He purposely paused and stared at it before brushing his thumb over its length. “It shows you were stronger than the evil one who attacked you.”

  A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “It’s your badge of courage, a sign of your bravery. You should wear it proudly just as a soldier would wear a medal.”

  “A badge of courage?”

  He nodded and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the rough skin. “I love this mark. It means you fought and survived against the odds. Because of that, we can be together now.” He drew away and stared directly into her eyes. “I speak the truth. You know I don’t lie.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You really are good for me, Armand.”

  “Finalement, she realizes this.” He chuckled and brushed her hair back from her face.

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to run my fingers through your hair,” she tugged loose the tie at his nape and combed her fingers through the strands.

  He twirled a lock of hers around his finger. “I’ve felt the same way about yours.”

  “And,” she slid her hands down his shoulders to his chest until her fingers rested on the buttons of his shirt. “I’ve always wanted to touch your naked chest and feel your muscles moving under my palms.”

  A crooked grin twisted his lips. “Your chest has figured in my dreams as well.”

  She gave him a coy look as she slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. “But not my muscles? You don’t want to feel them moving under your palms?”

  “My palms definitely want to feel several parts of you.” He took the bottom of her shirt and began to work it upwards, skimming his fingertips over her skin.

  She had his shirt open now and was tracing his pecs, kissing his collar bone, smoothing his shirt from his shoulders before gently grazing her teeth over his chest. His skin quivered under her touch, his breath catching, and she repeated the tender torture once again.

  “I’ll not last very long if you keep that up, Lucy.”

  Laughing, she relented. “Maybe you should return the favour.”

  “Believe me, I plan to.” Pulling her down onto the bed, he gently eased her back against the pillows then set her glasses on the nightstand. “Now, where was I?” Leaning forward, he trailed slow kisses over her skin.

  “Mmm…” She purred her approval and gave a luxurious stretch. “You’re very good at this, Armand. It’s like I’m floating in a sea of sensation.”

  “That’s my plan,” he murmured, pausing to appreciate how she languidly trailed her fingers down the indent of his spine. He’d been waiting to do this for years and didn’t intend to leave a single inch of her untouched.

  Just as he reached the sweet spot near the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his nose started to tickle. He tried to ignore it,
but the all too familiar sensation increased. Lips pressed together, he did his best to stifle the impending sneeze, realized it was futile and started to pull away.

  A loud sound exploded near her ear, and Lou sat bolt upright, jerked back to reality with shocking abruptness. “What was that?”

  Armand peered at her over the tissue he’d grabbed. “Sorry. I tried to stifle a sneeze.”

  Unable to help herself she started to giggle. Armand gave her an affronted look so she tried to hold back her mirth but that made her think of him trying to stifle his sneeze and more laughter escaped her. His scowl deepened and soon she was holding her stomach and struggling to catch her breath as fits of laughter overtook her.

  “I’m glad my allergies amuse you.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.” She paused and took a deep breath then blew it out. “The look on your face… And after years of waiting to have sex with you…. It’s just too…”

  His lips twitched and then he too was laughing, a deep booming sound that mixed with her own and filled the small room until they were both exhausted.

  Leaning against the headboard, she wiped the tears of laughter from her face and watched as Armand picked up a pillow, sniffed it tentatively and sneezed again. He tossed the pillow away as if it were a bomb about to go off.

  “By any chance, do you use lilac scented laundry soap or fabric softener?”

  “Not usually. It was on sale last week plus I had a coupon for half off so I thought I’d try it.”

  He groaned. “I’m allergic to it.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry, but this bedding...” He gestured with his hand and shook his head.

  “It’s okay. These things happen.” She thought for a minute then clambered out of bed and went to the closet. “Strip the sheets. I have some other ones and I’m sure they weren’t washed with the lilac stuff.”

  “Really? Good. I’d hate to think I was cock-blocked by a lilac.” He rolled off the bed and got to work. Eventually, he started to chuckle again. “I must admit this is a first.”

  “Really? You’ve never had a sneezing fit during sex or you’ve never had to stop and change the bedding? Or were you referring to the break-in earlier?” She balled up the offending bedding and chucked it in the hallway while he dealt with the new sheets.

  “I can’t say any of those events have ever been part of my sex life.”

  “Then it’s our special memory.” She grinned and climbed back on the freshly made bed.

  He sat down beside her, his smile fading as he cupped her face. “The way you can laugh and take everything in your stride, it’s one of my favourite things about you.”

  “Lemons and lemonade; it’s what I do.” She laced her fingers behind his neck. “Now, if you’re still in the mood…?”

  He kissed her long and slow and deep. “Oh, I most definitely am.”

  “Good. Now, where were we?” She trailed her hands down his chest towards his waist.

  “I believe I was about to nibble on your neck.”

  “And I was thinking we needed to get rid of these jeans.” She reached for his zipper but he suddenly stood up and finished the job. “Hey, I was going to do that,” she protested.

  “Next time, I promise, but for now, we’ve had too many delays.” He tossed his denims on the floor and, in a blur of movement stripped her, flipped onto his back and pulled her down on top of him where they became lost in the haze of desire once again. The scent of him surrounded her, the taste of his salty skin, the rumble of his approval as she stroked his muscular form, giving him pleasure until he hissed a curse and flipped them over.

  When he rose over her, the sight of him reminded her of a conquering hero, dark hair spilling about his face, his gaze hot and possessive.

  “I need you.” She kissed him hard.

  “I need you, too.” He kissed her back. “Protection?”

  Damn, she wasn’t on the pill anymore but…she spied the box of tampons on her dresser, did a quick calculation and mentally shrugged. “It’s safe.” She slid her arms around him…

  Somewhere in Chicago…

  “You found it?”

  “Yeah. Just took a bit of searching.”

  “Good. I can’t believe we almost lost it.”

  “We? Do I have to keep reminding you, you’re the one who messed up? Not me.”

  “We’re a team. We win together, and we lose together.”

  “Right.” A snort accompanied the comment then silence filled the room as the box in the middle of the table was opened, the contents dumped, scattered over the surface but…

  “It’s not there!”

  “What? Are you sure?” The box was grabbed, shaken and then ripped apart.

  “Dammit, you got the wrong box.” A hand was slammed down on the table to punctuate the words.

  “No! That’s impossible!”

  “You should have checked! Now what the hell are we going to do?” Fingers were dragged through hair as anxious pacing began.

  “I—”

  “This won’t look good when I have to explain the reason we still don’t have the goods is because of your foul-up.”

  “My foul-up? What happened to the ‘we’re a team’ pep talk you were giving a minute ago?”

  “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!” The remains of the box were crumpled and thrown across the room.

  Chapter 11

  Armand woke with a start, his bear warning him there was someone in the apartment. At his side, Lucy was sleeping soundly, her cheek resting on his shoulder, one arm slung across his chest, her leg over his. He eased away and stood up. In the darkness of the room, his pants weren’t immediately visible so he snagged Lucy’s bathrobe and wrapped it around his hips, then walked quietly to the door.

  Yes, someone was definitely in the apartment and shuffling things about in the bathroom. He tried to scent the air with no luck; his head was still congested from the lilac fabric softener. It was unlikely the thief had returned, however he’d sleep better after checking to be sure.

  Opening the door, he slid into the hallway. Light spilled from the bathroom and, sure enough, there was someone crouched on the floor in front of the vanity but not a thief. It was Roxi.

  She looked up, “Hey, Armand…” Her voice trailed off as she studied him. “Pink and white flowers? That’s quite a bold fashion statement.”

  He hitched the robe more securely around his waist. “This? It’s just something I threw on.”

  Cocking her head, she pursed her lips and studied him carefully before shaking her head. “I hate to tell you but, even with your sexy French accent, that pattern is too small for you to carry off with any panache.”

  “Vraiment? Really?” He struggled to keep a straight face. “And I chose it specifically for the occasion.”

  “I have a couple of fashion magazines you can borrow.”

  “Merci. Next time, I’ll consult them first.”

  She laughed and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the side of the tub. “So, you and Lucy were getting it on? I’m glad I wasn’t home. From the looks of the place, things got pretty wild.”

  His smile faded. “No. Someone was in the apartment when we came home. They were searching the bathroom but escaped out the window.”

  “Someone broke in? OMG, for someone so nice, Lulu is sure having a lot of bad karma visited on her lately.” She clambered to her feet. “Was anything stolen?”

  “She doesn’t think so. For some reason, it was only the bathroom that was affected.” He scanned the mess. “Sorry, we should have cleaned up.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not the neatest person in the world and I guess you had other things on your mind.” She gave him a knowing wink. “So what did the cops say? Did they dust for prints?”

  “Uh…no.”

  “Let me guess, you didn’t call them, did you?” She folded her arms. “You and Lulu really are a pair. No cops for a mugging. No cops for a break-in. Makes me wonder wha
t you’re hiding.” She poked her tongue in her cheek and seemed to be hinting at something.

  “We have nothing to hide.” He gave her a hard stare.

  “In that get up, you certainly don’t. Nice lickable abs, by the way. I’d love a sample.” She raked her eyes over him and smacked her lips.

  He stepped back as she exited the small room, not entirely sure she was joking. The only person he wanted licking him was Lucy.

  “Is Lulu still sleeping?”

  “She was a minute ago.”

  “Okay, I’ll be quiet.” She headed towards Lucy’s room.

  “What are you doing?” He followed behind her. The young woman was a mystery to him.

  “I need to borrow something.” She walked into the room, looked around then picked up a box off the dresser. “Auntie Flo’s paying a call.” Box in hand, she left.

  Lucy made a soft noise and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Your roommate was borrowing something,” he explained.

  “Oh.”

  He climbed back in the bed and tucked her close to his side. “Your friend, Roxi, she’s not involved in anything illegal, is she?”

  “No. Of course not.” She yawned. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she works at the dry cleaners and hints that she finds things in pockets…” She shrugged. “Roxi likes to tease so I’m not really sure I should believe her or not.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. She seems an unusual person.”

  “Yeah, I’d say unusual describes her pretty well.” She trailed a finger down his chest. “You aren’t as hairy as I remember. Did you get some manscaping done?”

  “Manscaping?”

  “I mean, did you shave your chest or get it waxed?”

  “No!” The very idea appalled him, but he scrambled to think how to explain the fact that, as a bear shifter, his body hair tended to change with the season. “You’ve just never been this close to me before.

  “True.” She didn’t sound convinced.