Bedded by the Bear: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 6)

by Isadora Montrose

  Mitch’s bride set her little hand on his arm. Smiled up at him with her pretty hazel eyes sparkling. Winked. “Why don’t you tell him,” she cooed, “While I put some clothes on?”

  She vanished down the hall and into her bedroom.

  Trafford’s eyes narrowed. “What the heck?” he began.

  “I’m Zoë’s fiancé.”

  “Fiancé?” Whatever Trafford had expected, he hadn’t expected that. His face changed from I-have-the-right-to-ask-questions to wide-eyed solicitude. Whatever. It wasn’t a look that sat naturally on Chadwick Ellery Trafford III’s haughty features.

  “Uh huh.” Mitchell gave Zoë’s ex his patented stare. Braver men than Three had crumpled under Capt. Reynolds’ stare. Trafford backed up a full foot, until his back encountered the door. His mouth opened and shut like a goldfish’s.

  Mitchell bared his teeth. “Why are you really here?”

  Three’s eyes bulged. He leaned against the door, as if he had intentionally wound up there, and appeared to consider his options. The aggression died out of his body and face as if it had never been there. He smiled ruefully and extended a hand.

  “Chadwick Ellery Trafford III,” he informed Mitchell. “Zoë and I are... colleagues.” Another pause. “And friends. Very good friends.” He waited.

  Mitchell ignored Three’s hand. He had shaken with lots of fellows without liking or wanting to like them. But he was damned if he was going to touch Trafford unless he used his feet or his fists.

  If ever a guy needed a swift kick, it was this one. What kind of douche implied to a woman’s present lover that he had had her first?

  “Mitchell Reynolds,” he responded in his coldest tones. “Zoë’s fiancé. What do you want, Trafford?” Every time he said he was Zoë’s fiancé, Mitch got a bit of a rush. A sort of primitive jolt of power. Had to keep that banked down. He would think about what that meant later.

  “She quit her job,” Trafford announced in carefully modulated tones. “Out of the blue. Which is atypical behavior. Totally unlike her. I was worried. Not just me. Lots of people were – are – concerned about her doing something so out of character. Her coworkers. The governor. I volunteered to track her down.”

  Uh huh. “You ever heard of phones, Trafford? You can save a lot of gas by making a simple phone call.”

  “She wasn’t answering her cell,” Trafford said piously. “Very worrying.”

  Was this douche for real? Zoë had probably blocked the bastard. “Well, as you can see, Zoë is just fine.”

  “If I could just offer my congratulations to Zoë in person?” Trafford gave a gracious smile that made Mitchell want to slap his face. “After all, none of her friends had any idea she planned to get engaged.”

  Mitchell didn’t respond to that piece of shift. Some subtle psi wafted from Trafford. What the fuck was this asshole up to? He kept his tone flat and businesslike. “You already saw her.”

  “Say,” Trafford continued with just the right amount of pleased surprise, “You’re not one of those Reynolds, are you?”

  “Which Reynolds would they be?” Mitchell asked. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. Which made his sheet slip a fraction. He resisted the urge to rewind it. Three’s eyes bugged out even more.

  Maybe Trafford had never seen an unwaxed six-pack before? Or a half-naked warrior? Maybe it was the gouges left by shrapnel and bullets? Mitchell showed his teeth again. He supposed you could call that expression smiling. More like a threat grimace. But Three was a fool.

  He pressed his luck. “From Luck Harbor?”

  “Uh huh. Just like Zoë. What about Luck Harbor?” Mitchell couldn’t believe Three was attempting to charm him, when the idiot ought to be in full retreat.

  “The Reynoldses of Luck Harbor are well-known philanthropists,” Three said with what he plainly thought was an ingratiating smile.

  “Yup. You got a point, Trafford? Because I was planning to help Zoë comb her hair.”

  The whites of Trafford’s eyes showed. Proving he wasn’t too dim to feel fear.

  Mitchell leaned over Three, teeth still showing. “I’ll give my bride your good wishes. You can tell all your… colleagues that Zoë is just dandy.” He reached behind Trafford, turned the door handle, and hauled the door open, bumping Trafford and forcing him to scamper sideways.

  Chadwick Ellery Trafford III obviously wasn’t used to scuttling through barely cracked doors, but scuttle he did.

  As soon as the latch clicked, the bedroom door opened. Zoë was back in the robe with a towel around her hair. She looked disapprovingly at the front door.

  “I thought you were going to thump him,” she said. A long pause. “Griff would have thumped him.” Her tone was my-big-brother-can-whip-yours provocative.

  He let the sheet fall. “You are a minx, Zoë Worth.”

  She shook her head. The towel unraveled. Her robe came undone. “Bear.”

  “I didn’t want to make a scene and embarrass you.”

  “Shame.”

  “Tell you what, if he comes back, for sure I’ll use him to polish the silver.”

  She sighed elaborately. “Promises, promises.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Zoë~

  With the sheet on the hall carpet, it was easy to see that Mitchell was flatteringly happy to see her. But she still wasn’t sure about what Chad had wanted. Mitchell’s hands moved inside her robe and caressed her damp skin. He pushed the robe off her shoulders and pulled her into his body.

  “He’s gone,” Mitchell growled. “I doubt if he’ll be back. He didn’t seem that dumb.”

  “He’s not dumb. But he’s sneaky and persistent.”

  “He’s a con artist. He’ll cut his losses and look for another source of funds.”

  “Probably.” She wasn’t as sure as Mitchell, but there was no point arguing about Chad or his intentions.

  “I’ll rip his liver out if he comes near you again,” her warrior declared. His vow was all the deadlier for the flatness of his voice.

  And yet it made her heart rejoice.

  Besides, Mitchell’s roving hands were making it difficult for her to concentrate. She made an executive decision. There was nothing more she could do about Chad. And a great deal she could do with Mitchell.

  He might not be her fated mate. But he was going to be her husband, and whatever was going on between them was entirely mutual and completely overwhelming. To say nothing of fabulous.

  He picked her up by the waist and lifted her back onto the stripped bed. The pillows were still every which way.

  As if Mitchell could read her mind, he growled, “Even if I hadn’t told him we were engaged, he ought to have realized when I answered the door in a sheet that you were done with him.” He punctuated his words with hard little kisses all over her torso.

  He was right. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. So what if she and Chad had never ripped the sheets loose or filled the air with the smell of their lovemaking? His loss. She was a she-bear with big appetites, and she now had the astonishing good fortune to be banging a bear who matched her passion for passion.

  “You going to brood on Three, or make love?” Mitchell asked.

  “Sorry. I’ll try to keep up.” She turned her attention to his erection. “What shall we do with this big boy?” She placed both hands around it.

  “Lady’s choice.”

  “Okay. I want to be on top.”

  “Great.” He rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head. His grin was devilish. “I’m all yours.”

  She shrugged completely out of the open robe and tossed it away. Turned back to him and began to explore. He was furry all over, just as a bear should be. Except for the scars where he had been hurt. The white scars told of repeated insults to his big, hard body.

  She kissed each one, working her way from his thick, well-muscled neck which was almost as wide as his head down to his broad chest, stopping to lick his flat bronze nipples.
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  “Hey,” he growled.

  Zoë sat back on her heels. “Don’t you like that?”

  “Too much. Don’t press me too far. I’m on a hair-trigger here.”

  She patted his cock which was pressed against his six-pack. “A Marine ought to have more self-control,” she reproved him severely.

  “Uh huh. And you’d know this how?” But under the urgency his voice was amused.

  “Common knowledge,” she assured him airily. She kissed a long, crimped furrow at his waist. And a smaller one just above his navel. “You’ve seen a lot of combat.” She winced. She sounded accusing.

  “Yup. You need some help there, Zoë?”

  “Patience, Big Boy. I’m just checking out my property.”

  “I like the sound of that, but I warn you, I might just go off half-cocked if you keep this up.”

  “I hate waste,” she purred. She swung one leg over his and straddled his dick. She used both hands to fit him to her throbbing pussy. She was wet and pulsing gently. And as she took his hot, hard thickness inside herself, her pussy grew hotter and wetter.

  He sat up effortlessly and seized her mouth with his. His tongue probed the seam of her lips and surged inside. As she rose and fell, the relentless sweep of his tongue against hers ramped up her already over-the-top arousal. For sure everything was different with another bear.

  She threw her head back and stopped thinking as she rode Mitchell to completion. Her fingers sought the soft curls on his chest as his mouth continued to explore hers. She set her feet flat against the mattress and galloped home.

  The invisible energy of their auras merged. They were one flesh. One spirit. Electric pulses flashed through her entire body. She could have sworn she felt the lightning enveloping his. There was a whooping noise reverberating in the room.

  She cried his name when she came. He pulled her close against his body. Kissed her even more deeply. The sense that they were one being intensified. Waves of release swept her away into a place where the only certainty was the security of his strong arms.

  She came back to herself to find him gently caressing her belly. She stiffened. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His hands stilled. “About this? Don’t be. You’re going to have a baby. My baby, if anyone is ill-mannered enough to ask.” His stroking resumed. “What has me wondering, is how old Three knew you were home, and if he has any reason to suspect you’re pregnant?”

  “I do live here. And he wouldn’t have known I went to Luck Harbor for the weekend. But as far as Chad knows, I was on the pill while we were together.”

  “Hmm. Well, if he has any sense, he’ll cut his losses,” Mitchell said.

  Probably she no longer had anything to fear from Chad. Mitchell had quite successfully sent him packing. If and when Chad discovered she was pregnant, he would naturally assume the child was Mitchell’s. As it would be.

  Besides there was more than enough sizzle between her and Mitch to make their future seem bright. So why was she having second thoughts?

  She swallowed hard. She needed to do the right thing. “In fact, since he thinks I’m getting married, maybe there’s no need for us to actually get married?”

  Mitchell’s face hardened. “And just what do I tell Griff when he learns his kid sister is pregnant, and I’ve been screwing her?”

  Oh, right. At the back of Mitchell’s mind was his relationship with big bro. What had she expected? A protestation of undying love? This was a convenient arrangement – for them both. Her baby got a daddy, and he got a wife and kiddies.

  “How many people have as much as us?” he demanded fiercely. “Let’s just count our blessings.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tidewater Inn,

  Mystic Bay,

  West Haven, Oregon

  Robin~

  “I think we should just present Mystic Bay with a done deal,” Robin said drowsily to her lover. “Get married over in Friday Harbor and announce it when we get off the ferry.”

  “Nah.” Beside her Gordon Sullivan rolled onto his side. “At our age, sneaking off to get married isn’t right. Makes it look like we’re ashamed or something. I think we should have a big party, invite the whole town.”

  He kissed her left hand where his ring sparkled on her finger. “Celebrate our love properly.”

  “Like a pair of lovestruck kids?” she asked doubtfully.

  “Like fated mates.” He kissed her, letting his tongue slide against hers and ending with the tiny buss at the corner of her mouth that she liked the best. “Like the mayor and deputy mayor of Mystic Bay. I don’t know about you, Robin, but I’m pretty lovestruck myself.”

  That was largely unanswerable. She believed with all her heart, that her love for Gordon (Sully) Sullivan was destined. Even if he had been her sister’s husband first. Of course, Nightingale had sailed west twenty years ago, on Midsummer Day.

  Gordon had grieved the loss of his wife for a long time. They had only recently made the leap to lovers. But she was as certain as a fairy with considerable powers could be that they were forever mates.

  Rather than argue, she changed the subject. “Speaking of sneaking off to get married, Ursula Reynolds says her nephew will be arriving any day now with his fiancée.”

  “Why don’t they get married first?” he rumbled in the darkness. Really, Gordon could be so straitlaced sometimes. Witness his insistence that they get married. He had been after her to regularize their affair for months.

  “They haven’t had time. Ursula wants me to call her the minute they buy their marriage license.”

  Gordon clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. “That’s confidential information. Just what does Ursula plan to do with it?”

  “Host a full-scale wedding here at the inn. She may be too frail to climb up all those stairs to the cabin, but she can certainly manage to get to the Tidewater Inn. Particularly if we put her in a cab when she gets off the boat.”

  “That could work,” Gordon agreed. “So what’s the trouble?”

  He knew her so well. “Ursula wants me to stall their wedding so she can get their friends and family organized.”

  “For how long?”

  “A week or ten days. Ursula wants them to have more than a few minutes in the registry office.”

  “And those youngsters?” Gordon asked. “Don’t they get any say in the timing of their own wedding?”

  Robin smiled serenely. “Every bride deserves to be a star.”

  “I’m glad you agree with me, my love,” Gordon shot back. “That’s exactly what I have been saying for months. It’s time you picked a day.”

  Which would teach her to debate with a weather lord. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. But predictably Gordon had other ideas. He ran a big hand up the front of her body, sending electricity zinging through every cell. His bear tickled her ear.

  “Since you’re awake, do you want to play?” His deep voice was a caress.

  “Always.”

  His burly body enfolded her. He lowered his torso until it brushed against hers. His hands traced the outline of her ear. Beneath her what felt like a second pair of hands gently squeezed her bottom. She yelped.

  “What’s the matter, my sweet?” he growled.

  “You startled me,” she protested.

  The phantom hands kneaded her bottom more vigorously. “Don’t you like that?” Gordon whispered huskily as he continued to play with her earlobe.

  She giggled softly. “You know I do. I just wasn’t expecting you to grow extra arms.”

  Another set plucked her toes. “No? When you play with a sorcerer, my love, you can expect many attentions.”

  Something soft and furry rubbed between her legs. His bearded face. And yet he was also kissing her lips. The erotic sensation made her writhe. Time stood still as her sorcerer lover ministered to her. It was as if she were being made love to by several men all at once. And all of them were her one true love.
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br />   The lap and suck on her secret folds was mirrored by Gordon’s slow exploration of her mouth with lips and tongue. He held her just firmly enough that she could not do more than kiss him back and hold onto his broad shoulders. Her own magic was powerful but she concentrated on enjoying the tongue gliding over her folds and the lips suckling her clit.

  When her orgasm hit, her body exploded in pleasure. Gordon’s arms gathered her even closer. He slipped his cock into her wet depths. Her pulsating passage gripped and released him. His breath against her ear became hotter and more ragged.

  Robin wound her legs tightly around his backside as together they rode the waves of bliss to completion. In the dark room, a rainbow of fairy light, like their own private aurora borealis pulsed and flashed in time with their shared climax.

  She fell asleep still gathered against her lover’s hard chest.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Oregon Coastal waters,

  Zoë~

  “Tell me again why we didn’t take the ferry to Mystic Bay,” Zoë asked under her breath.

  The chill wind off the Pacific buffeted her face and blew her curls into damp strings. She huddled grumpily into her too-thin jacket and wished Mitchell’s new speedboat had a proper cabin instead of just an inadequate windshield.

  She had meant her griping to be lost in the wind, but Mitchell’s brows rose. His voice was elaborately patient as he repeated himself. “The cottage has no road access. We’ll need our own boat, and I can’t be sure what shape Aunt Ursula’s are in. She hasn’t been there in years.”

  Just what she wanted, an isolated cabin on the edge of the ocean a boat ride from town. “That was thinly-veiled sarcasm, Mitchell,” she informed him.

  “Here’s a tip, going forward, my darling. Before you unleash sarcasm on me, take the veil off.”

  The Zephyr hit a cross wave and bounced. Zoë gave up on Mitchell and returned to her bench to nurse her slightly queasy insides. With the dawn, last night’s affectionate, passionate lover had morphed into a goal-oriented steamroller.

  Practically before she had washed her face, she had been packed and on the road to Portland to pick up his newly ordered boat. During the trip, Mitchell had been considerate about stopping to eat and drink. In fact, if anything he was a shade over-solicitous.