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

by Isadora Montrose

  He snorted. “I don’t think Sully does empty threats. I think Chad could easily wake up to find that he had magically lost his right to practice law. And I believe he understood that to be a credible promise – as opposed to an empty threat.” He rubbed her belly. “You won’t be troubled by that wizard ever again.”

  “And you didn’t really believe I summoned Chad to Mystic Bay?”

  “I didn’t. I don’t. I was jealous. I apologize.”

  “I forgive you.” She sighed and relaxed against him. “It’s nice that we have folks watching our backs.”

  “It certainly is.”

  She nuzzled her cheek against his shirt. “I’m sorry that people are going to talk about the baby. I didn’t mean that to happen.”

  “Let them talk.”

  “It seems wrong for people to gossip when you’ve been so kind.”

  Time to clear the air. “To tell you the truth, Zoë, I forget that it isn’t mine,” he assured her. “It’s your baby. Our baby. Maybe one day we’ll have to tell him or her that their sperm donor was a douche, but not for years and years.”

  “That’s all Chad was or could be,” she said firmly. “But where does that leave us?”

  “Getting married on Saturday.” He held her close.

  “Are you sure you still want to?”

  “As sure as we’re both bears.”

  “I’ll try to be a good wife.”

  He kissed her. A proper kiss. But not too hungrily, for they had some more reconciling to do before they got to the righteous canoodling.

  “I’ve known you since you were born,” he began.

  “You have.”

  “You’re my best buddy’s baby sister.”

  “I am.”

  “He’s going to want my head to play football with when he finds out I’ve knocked you up.”

  “You can tell him the truth,” she said earnestly.

  “Don’t interrupt. That’s our little secret. And Griff doesn’t need to know.”

  “I don’t want to come between you and Griff,” she said.

  “Once he sees how happy we are, he’ll get over himself.”

  “I’ll try to make you happy.”

  “You will. You have.” He kissed her again. “I just about died yesterday when I thought you were out in the channel lost and maybe hurt.” Maybe dead.

  “I didn’t mean to worry you,” she said penitently.

  “That’s my point. When a fellow’s mate goes missing, he naturally gets worried.”

  “Oh. Do you mean that?”

  “I do. Zoë Worth, you are my fated mate, and I fully intend to settle down and enjoy my destiny.” He kissed her and made a discovery. “Don’t cry. It doesn’t matter that you don’t feel it yet. You will.”

  She sniffed and groped for the box of tissues beside the couch. “I already do. Mitchell Reynolds, you are the only bear in the world for me.”

  “Good.” He drew a deep breath and plunked her on the couch. Knelt before her. “Zoë, will you do me the honor to marry me?”

  Her nose was pink. So were her eyes. She looked beautiful to him. She carefully dried her eyes and blew her nose before responding. “Yes, Mitchell, I will. I love you.”

  “And I love you.” He drew a deep breath. “We don’t have to live up here if you don’t want to.”

  “I’ll think about that,” she said carefully. She grinned. “Is it time for the canoodling?”

  She was absolutely made for him.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Zoë~

  Mitchell’s face was hard but amused. “What did you have in mind?” He rose to his feet and held out his hand.

  “You deserve a special reward for dispatching Chad without going to jail,” she purred.

  He chuckled. “I’m glad you recognize my sacrifice. What did you have in mind?”

  “Hero’s choice.”

  “Decisions, decisions.”

  “If you’re not up to making a selection, I can improvise.”

  “Believe me, dear heart, I’m up.” He pressed her hand against his zipper where his cock seemed to be trying to escape.

  She lowered the pull tab carefully, and allowed his erection to tent his shorts. Rubbed the bulge lovingly.

  “You planning to do me without taking my jeans off?”

  “I could, but I think I might bruise myself on the zipper teeth,” she said regretfully.

  “We wouldn’t want that.” He unfastened his belt and top button.

  She yanked his jeans and shorts down and helped him toss them aside. His dick was hard and dripping. The mushroom cap glistened. She grasped him with both hands and let him feel her teeth and tongue, allowing her hair to fall over his groin.

  “Just so you know, that tickles.”

  “Gosh. What about this?”

  “That too.”

  She went back to work. Sucking and licking, nibbling and grazing. He groaned and clutched her hair. She pressed kisses along his hard length, permitting her hair to caress his pubes and his balls. He moaned louder when she took him fully into her mouth. His excitement fueled hers.

  “I’m going to come,” he warned. “And we haven’t gotten to you yet.”

  “These are the sacrifices you have to expect, my love, if you’re going to leave the decisions in my hands.” She resumed her nibbling and sucking.

  Mitchell’s big body stiffened as he came. He shouted her name in a most satisfactory manner. She looked up at him, her cheek resting on his thighs.

  “My turn,” he said.

  “Are you sure you have the strength?” she teased. “You look a bit worn out.”

  “Fortunately, my heart is pure, so my strength is the strength of ten.”

  “Well, okay, what was your plan?”

  “I’m hungry,” he growled, “For a little honey.” His fingers found the hem of her tunic and pulled it over her head. He unfastened her jeans and got her down to her underwear, fondling her as he went.

  He pushed her onto the couch, rolling her over onto her back as his hand stripped her panties away. “I keep telling you, I’ll take care of you.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  He bit the inside of her thigh and soothed the tiny bruise with his tongue. “Very good care.” He buried his nose in her fluff and inhaled deeply. “Delicious,” he declared.

  She gripped his hair. Absently she noticed that she had been correct, it was much longer. “I think your hair grew because you shifted.”

  He grunted and sent his tongue deeper. Well, okay. She relaxed completely and allowed herself to enjoy the ministrations of his soft and teasing tongue. By the time he sucked her clit into his mouth and pressed it against the roof of his mouth, she was singing.

  He raked the very tip with the edge of his teeth. Everything tight within her got tighter. Her legs stiffened. Fireworks exploded on the periphery of her vision. The pulsing in her pussy got faster and harder. She came with the force of a supernova.

  Before she could decide where she ended and Mitchell began, he surged into her. And then he moved gently in time with her aftershocks. Each tiny ripple gripped and released his shaft. He moaned like a bear in rut but he didn’t increase his pace.

  His back was wet with the effort of controlling himself. “You can move faster if you want,” she whispered.

  “I’m enjoying this too much.”

  A long while later they were lying in a damp tangle on the sofa. Her left leg was getting cold, while everywhere she was pressed against Mitchell was hot. But she was too languid and replete to care.

  A big hand rubbed the back of her neck. Mitchell yawned. “Hey,” he said softly.

  She had to know. “Did you feel it too?”

  “When the cabin shook?” he asked. “I think that means we need to repair the foundation.”

  “We did get a little vigorous there at the end,” she said. “But I was talking about the way our auras shimmer together.”

  “Every time,” he said smugly. “T
hey resonant more strongly each time we make love.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah. At first I thought it was making love to a she-bear, but it’s more like a consequence of making love to my she-bear.” His fist clenched in her hair and dragged her mouth down to his.

  He kissed her as if he would stamp possession onto her soul. Zoë’s heart rejoiced. She kissed him back just as fiercely. If she belonged to him, he belonged to her. In lieu of a slave collar she made a string of love bites all around his neck.

  “If you’re doing what I think you are, I won’t be able to wear my shirt open,” he protested.

  “Or your low-cut gown.”

  “Or that.” He rubbed her back. “I don’t mind wearing your brand, Zoë. Pretty soon you’ll be wearing mine.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Saturday morning,

  Zoë~

  “We don’t have to live here, if you don’t want to,” Mitchell said. He was wearing a blue suit that didn’t fit him quite right. But his tie was perfect.

  “About that.” Zoë fluffed her hair. “I’ve been thinking. I spent three years in Olympia and I didn’t have a single friend close enough to ask to water my plants. Here I’ve already made good friends.”

  She waved at the dress lying on the bed. “Imagine Emily lending me her wedding dress! She made it herself, you know?”

  Mitchell admired her in her underwear. “You going to wear that on the boat?” he asked doubtfully.

  “Nope. Moira assures me that I can change at the inn. Mayor Fairchild was happy to perform the ceremony there instead of at the town hall.”

  “Good.” He tugged at his tie. “How do I look?”

  “Like you’re wearing borrowed clothes.”

  “Yeah. Benoit and I are the same size, but his suit doesn’t fit worth a damn.”

  “I don’t mind,” she assured him.

  She had put the wedding dress inside three layers of plastic. Hopefully that would keep it dry. Moira had promised to conjure her some flats to wear with it. “I’m ready,” she said.

  Mitchell took her elbow as she went carefully down the stairs carrying Emily’s dress. She didn’t look up until she was actually at the dock.

  “Surprise,” he said.

  The launch was gone. In its place was a fifty-foot motor yacht with a two-story superstructure.

  “Where did this come from?” she asked.

  “Reynolds Boatyard.”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “It’s a wedding present. The Zephyr is the wrong kind of boat for this place.” He helped her aboard and gave her the nickel tour.

  She was able to leave her dress on a berth in one of the two cabins. There was even a miniature galley and a head. “All the comforts of home,” she said as she gazed around the spacious wheelhouse. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You take the wheel while I cast off.”

  “You’ll have to build a bigger boathouse,” she said when he returned.

  “Yup. All arranged. Bear Claw Construction is going to do us a pre-fab.” He grinned at her. “The plan is to sail this baby over to Wolf Neck after the reception, and spend a few days at the bed and breakfast over there.”

  “Ooh. A real honeymoon!”

  “Only the best for my best girl.”

  The larger boat softened the swells and troughs of the ocean. Their ride was smooth and uneventful despite the mist swirling up the channel. Zoë did not feel a single twinge of nausea the whole way.

  Harvey tethered the cruiser and wished them well. In harmony, they walked up the hill to the inn where Mitchell left her at Robin Fairchild’s office door.

  “Come upstairs,” Mayor Fairchild said. “You can dress there.”

  Robin lived in an elegant bower filled with fragile Victoriana. Moira was waiting for Zoë there. “I’ll look after her,” she assured her aunt. She carried the dress into Robin’s bedroom. “Did Emily adjust it for you?”

  “She did. She’s very talented.”

  “If she were willing to leave West Haven, she could be a famous dress designer.” Moira shrugged. “The world’s loss is our gain.”

  The dress looked beautiful. It floated around Zoë’s waist and, except for her bare feet, she looked appropriately bridal.

  “I think you should have heels, after all,” Moira said. “What do you think?”

  Exquisite silvery pumps manifested themselves on Zoë’s feet. Moira chuckled and retrofitted sheer stockings. “How do they feel?”

  “Like they were made for me.”

  “As they were. All you need are some flowers.”

  “I forgot.”

  Moira smirked. “I didn’t.” She passed a hand over Zoë’s face. “I fixed your makeup.”

  The woman in the mirror was the most radiant of brides. Her dress fit as if it had been made for her. Moira went out to the sitting room and came back with a trailing bouquet of blush pink peonies and white tulips.

  “They’re gorgeous,” Zoë breathed. “How can I ever thank you?”

  “Become the town crier,” Moira said promptly. There was a rap at the door. “It’s time.”

  A tall handsome soldier wearing dress blues marched through the bedroom door a second later. Moira grabbed the bouquet before Zoë could drop it. “Griff!”

  Strong arms lifted her into the air and spun her in a circle. “No tears,” he warned.

  “He’s right,” Moira said. “You’ll have dark circles in the photos.”

  Blinking back her tears, she returned her brother’s hug. “How?”

  “I’m not sure. But when Aunt Ursula wants a thing, she pulls strings.” Music began to play. “I think that’s our cue. Do I get to give the bride away?”

  “Of course. Moira, don’t let me cry!”

  The fairy laughed and waved a hand. “That should hold you for an hour or so.”

  They walked down the narrow stairs to the inn’s lobby. It was deserted. “This way,” Moira directed them through double doors. The music swelled louder as the doors opened. The large room was full of chairs that were all occupied.

  Aunt Ursula was seated at the front of the room next to Uncle Bruce and his wife. Mitchell’s parents and his brother and sister-in-law and their three kids were on the other side. His grandparents were in the row behind that. Mitchell was wearing his own dress blues and what looked like enough medals to decorate an army.

  Half of Luck Harbor had come to see her married. And half of Mystic Bay too. But there was no time to acknowledge her friends and relatives, she had to pace the long red carpet toward Mitchell. Mayor Fairchild was waiting with him.

  It was a brief ceremony. Afterward she could barely remember what she had said. But she must have made the correct responses, because she had a ring on her finger. And had put one on Mitchell’s hand.

  “You may kiss the bride,” said Robin.

  Mitchell lifted her clear off her feet and to tumultuous applause he kissed her well and thoroughly. It was hours later as he was leading her onto the floor to dance that he asked, “Do you like your ring?”

  She glanced at it. She was wearing a wide gold band like his. “I do.”

  He opened his left hand to show her a small black velvet box. He flicked the lid with his thumb. In the light from the chandelier, gold, diamonds, and rubies sparkled on a huge ring. The setting looked old-fashioned. Really old-fashioned.

  The oval diamond was the biggest she had ever seen, and circled by small rubies. There were more rubies and diamonds on the butterflies on the shoulders and on the band. A true knuckleduster. The kind of ring a tycoon might give his ladylove in 1880.

  She gasped. “Where did you get that from?”

  “Safety deposit box. Aunt Ursula brought it with her.”

  “I meant, where did the ring come from?”

  “Amos Reynolds bought it for his first wife.” Amos was their shared ancestor. One of Lucky’s three sons.

  “Oh.” No wonder it looked familiar. She
had seen it in photographs and in the oil portrait of Evangeline Reynolds which hung in the Luck Harbor Community Museum.

  He tipped his head to one side. “You don’t like it.”

  “It’s magnificent. But it’s huge. I’d be afraid to wear it.” This extraordinary ring wasn’t meant for an ordinary woman.

  “Let me worry about that.” He kissed her left hand. As usual electricity zipped to her heart. “Will you wear my ring?”

  She nodded. “Thank you.” He slipped it over her finger.

  Evangeline must have been a sizable woman for the ring was a little loose on Zoë’s finger. The ring looked even bigger once it was on her hand. Ornate. Richly feminine.

  “Oh, Mitchell, it’s perfect. I love it.”

  “And I love you,” he returned. “Now let’s dance.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Robin~

  With a lift of her cane, Ursula Reynolds summoned Robin to her side. The matriarch of the Luck Harbor clan was in her element tonight. Robin bent to place a kiss on the wrinkled cheek.

  “It’s good to see you looking so well.”

  “Hmm. The West Haven air agrees with my old bones,” Ursula said. “This is quite a spread you’ve put on for those two. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” Robin settled beside her old friend. “We do love a wedding at the Tidewater.”

  “Will you just look at that glow?” Ursula chuckled fondly.

  Robin followed her friend’s gaze. “What glow?”

  “Don’t you think those two glow?” Ursula waved her cane at the dance floor where Mitchell was waltzing with his bride

  Robin examined the couple with care. “Their auras are in perfect synchrony, if that’s what you mean?”

  Zoë’s was sparkling and pulsing in perfect time with her husband’s. His promised protection and abiding love. Hers pledged devotion and unconditional love. Really, she and Gordon had worked wonders.

  Ursula snorted. “Nope. I said glow and I mean glow. I don’t read auras, myself. They have the same danged rosy glow you and Sully have had any time this century. When are you going to put that man out of his misery?”