by Paige Tyler
Just Right
Paige Tyler
The sexy tale of Goldie and the three werebears.
When Goldie Lockwood gets lost hiking and comes upon an isolated cabin, little does she know it belongs to three hot and hunky werebear brothers. The guys aren’t thrilled to discover Goldie ate their food and slept in their beds. Not wanting to go to jail, she suggests the men punish her for her naughty misdeeds—with an arousing round of spanking.
Goldie loves getting spanked and decides that after having her bottom warmed, she needs a little sex to make the night complete. The only question is whether she’s going to sleep with one of the brothers—or all of them.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Just Right
ISBN 9781419926952
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Just Right Copyright © 2009 Paige Tyler
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication February 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Just Right
Paige Tyler
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Cosmo: Hearst Communications, Inc.
Playgirl: Playgirl Key Club, Inc.
Chapter One
She was not lost. She hiked these trails all the time, so there was no way she could be lost. But if she wasn’t lost, then why didn’t she recognize anything around her? Because she was momentarily disoriented, Goldie Lockwood told herself. She would see something she recognized soon enough. There’d be a trail marker or a big rock formation she’d recognize just around the next bend. She was sure of it.
Two hours and about a hundred bends later, however, she was still wandering around the Tualatin Mountains outside of Portland with no clue where she was. She had only planned on taking a short hour-long hike to clear her head after a crappy day at work, so she hadn’t brought any food or water, or even a map with her. And to make matters worse, she couldn’t get a signal on her stupid cell phone. So much for more bars in more places.
Thoroughly frustrated, Goldie stopped in the middle of the nearly overgrown trail and put her hands on her slender hips. Dammit, why hadn’t she just gone out with the girls for a drink after work? If she had, maybe she’d be cozying up to a hot guy right now instead of being stranded in the wilderness. But no, she had wanted to go hiking. So, she’d changed into the shorts, T-shirt, and comfy pair of hiking boots she always kept in her car, then driven up to the mountains and hit the trails.
It wasn’t really as impulsive or as reckless as it sounded. She loved the outdoors and hiking always relaxed her, especially after a long day at work. But today had been different. Today, Bob Ashton, the cute guy at work she’d been trying to get to notice her for months, had gone out to lunch with one of the girls from accounting. And not just any girl, either, but the office slut, Marissa Conway. To top it all off, they hadn’t gotten back until after two. Combine that with Bob’s tousled hair and the silly-ass grin on Marissa’s face and Goldie hadn’t needed a neon sign to figure out the little tramp had spent her lunch hour snacking on him instead of some uber-healthy salad. It was infuriating! Everyone in the office knew Goldie was interested in Bob, but that hadn’t stopped Marissa from going after him.
That was the reason Goldie was lost. If she had been concentrating on where she was going instead of alternately wondering where she had gone wrong with Bob and what he could possibly see in Marissa, she wouldn’t be in her current predicament.
She could be in really big trouble, too. She had broken the number-one rule when it came to hiking by not telling anyone where she was going. Considering it was Friday, it was likely no one would even notice she was missing until Monday morning when she didn’t show up for work. Even then, someone would have to find her car at the trailhead to figure out she was out here. It could take a search party days to find her. That was a long time to be lost in the woods without any food or water.
She fought the surge of panic gripping her. Stop being such a drama queen and start navigating your way out of here.
Goldie took a deep breath to calm herself down, then looked around, trying to decide which way to go. After this long, though, all the Douglas fir and big-leaf maples looked the same and it was difficult to pick a direction. She was so disoriented she couldn’t even figure out which way led down the mountain. She frowned at the stream of late afternoon sunlight coming through the canopy of trees. It would be dark soon, which would make finding her way back to civilization even harder, especially since she didn’t have a flashlight. All kinds of wild animals came out at night, too, didn’t they? She really didn’t want to be some grizzly bear’s midnight snack.
Behind her, a twig snapped and she jumped. Okay, time to get moving. If she were lucky, maybe she’d come across another hiker and they’d be able to point her in the right direction.
Until then, though, she was going to have to find her own way out. Wildwood Trail was one of the biggest ones in the area, so it should be the easiest to find. Using the sun as a guide, she turned around and headed east, figuring she had to be somewhere west of the trail. Hopefully, she’d just stumble on it.
That plan didn’t quite work out, however. The farther she walked, the more lost she ended up. The trail she was currently on was so overgrown it looked like it hadn’t been used in a couple seasons. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back as she glanced down at her watch. Crap, she’d been wandering around the woods for almost four hours. Not only was she frustrated and scared, but she was hungry and thirsty, too.
She turned around in a circle, desperately looking for some sort of landmark she recognized, when something caught her eye through the trees. She leaned down to try to get a better look, but couldn’t quite make out what it was. She only knew it was big and looked like it was man-made. Maybe it was a camping shelter. They usually had maps and information in them.
Hoping that’s what it was, she ventured off the path and started toward it cross-country, pushing aside branches and stepping over downed trees in her hurry to get there. She squinted in the dim light, trying again to make out what it was, only to gasp as she stepped out into a small clearing. Holy crap, it wasn’t a shelter, it was a cabin!
Even as she rushed over to it, Goldie couldn’t help but wonder who the heck would have a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Every scary movie she’d ever seen involving a cabin in the woods popped into her head at the same time and she came to an abrupt halt halfway to the steps leadi
ng up to the front door. The cabin could belong to an axe-wielding psychopath. Or even the Big Bad Wolf, for all she knew. Maybe she should turn around and go back.
To what, wandering around the woods some more until it got dark?
“I don’t think so,” she muttered.
Besides, the place looked like it was deserted. Even axe-wielding psychopaths wouldn’t want to live this far out in the middle of nowhere.
Telling herself there was only one way to find out if it was deserted, she ran to the cabin and knocked on the door, then waited. When no one answered, she knocked again, louder this time.
“Hello!” she called. “Is anyone home?”
Still no answer.
Brow furrowing, Goldie put her nose to the glass on the door, cupped her face with her hands, and peeked inside. She was half afraid she would find it empty, but instead there was a small kitchen with a stove, a fridge, and a table to one side, as well as a pair of overstuffed chairs and a matching couch over by the fireplace on the other.
She sighed with relief. Someone definitely lived there. Unfortunately, that same someone didn’t appear to be home. And considering the place was in the middle of the woods, it could be a hunting cabin, which meant the owner probably wouldn’t be making an appearance anytime soon.
Goldie’s stomach growled and her gaze went to the fridge again. She looked longingly at it, imagining all the tasty food inside. Knowing it was a long shot, she grasped the doorknob and turned anyway. It was locked.
She chewed on her lower lip, wondering if she should break in. Since it was not only wrong, but illegal as well, probably not. But she was so hungry. And it would be getting dark soon. She turned to look back the way she had come and realized the sun had already gone down. Crap, it would be pitch black in thirty minutes. There was no way she was staying out in these woods in the dark.
Besides, if there was a fridge in the cabin, it meant the place had to have power of some kind, maybe solar panels on the roof or something. If there was power, there might be a phone she could use. Surely, the owner of the cabin wouldn’t be angry once she explained her situation. Especially if she reimbursed him for the food she ate, as well as the window she’d have to break to get inside, of course.
Goldie stepped back from the door and looked around for a rock. Since she was in a forest, there were quite a few lying around and she hurried over to pick up one. Looking over her shoulder to make sure no other hikers had suddenly stumbled upon the same cabin she had, she tightened her grip on the rock and walked back up the steps to the door. Taking a deep breath, she drew her arm back and smashed the pane of glass closest to the lock. It was louder than she’d thought it would be and she cringed as the sound echoed through the forest. Tossing the rock on the ground, she reached through the opening and unlocked the deadbolt, then pushed open the door.
* * * * *
Gregory Bauer hated loggers, especially loggers who made their living illegally. The forest was protected and there wasn’t supposed to be logging of any type going on, especially in the old-growth areas. Of course, those same old-growth trees were what attracted the loggers. Those old trees were worth a lot of money and some less-than-scrupulous dirtbags didn’t mind risking a minor state park fine in order to get to cut them down. As Oregon State Troopers, he supposed he and his brothers could always use their badges to scare off the jerks, but they’d discovered a much more effective way to do it. A way that guaranteed the loggers wouldn’t ever want to come back to this particular forest again.
He darted a quick look to his right, then his left as he ran, catching sight of the two grizzly bears through the trees on either side as they kept pace with him. His brothers Orson and Barrett were close. Good.
Gregory leaped over a long-dead Douglas fir in his path, his enormous paws barely touching the ground as he continued to close the distance between himself and the unsuspecting loggers with an unnatural speed only a werebear possessed. The sounds of chainsaws urged him on and he ran even faster.
He sometimes wondered if the assholes even knew the destruction they caused. Logging in an old-growth forest didn’t just affect the ancient trees they killed, but the animals that lived there as well, some of which were in danger of becoming threatened thanks to their greed. Then again, maybe they knew exactly what they were doing and they just didn’t care.
Gregory growled deep in his throat at the thought. Well, after the scare he and his brothers gave them, these particular loggers would think twice before coming back to cut down any more trees in this forest.
As he neared the area where the men were working, Gregory automatically slowed his step. On either side of him, his brothers did the same. While charging out from the trees might be more satisfying, the subtle approach tended to work better. The sight of three huge grizzly bears slowly and deliberately approaching was usually enough to frighten off most loggers.
As always, Gregory took the lead, slowly emerging from the trees ahead of his brothers. He kept his head low as he walked, something he knew not only emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, but made him look even more menacing to his prey. On either side of him, Orson and Barrett had stepped out from the woods and were doing the same.
Fortunately, the loggers hadn’t gotten into any of the big old-growth trees yet. But they had taken down a few small firs and spruces to make it easier to get at the ones they were after. They hadn’t even bothered to do more than chop up the smaller trees. They weren’t interested in them, even if it meant the trees would just sit there and rot, or worse, serve as underbrush fuel for the wildfires that frequently swept through the forest. The big trees could usually handle these fires, but not if there was a huge pile of limbs and logs piled up near them. The damn jerks didn’t even care.
The loggers didn’t notice Gregory and his brothers at first, probably because the men were too intent on what they were doing. As Gregory drew nearer, however, one of the men must have caught a glimpse of him because he did a double take before his eyes went wide. Heavyset with a thick, red beard, he wore a plaid shirt and a knit cap.
Gregory opened his mouth just enough to show his teeth. That’s right, asshole. You’re in deep shit.
The man stared at Gregory in stunned silence for a moment, then frantically thumped the skinny logger beside him on the arm to get his attention. When his coworker glared at him an annoyance, the man pointed at Gregory with a trembling hand.
The skinny man took one look at Gregory and immediately began to backpedal. “Bear!” he shouted to the other loggers, loud enough to be heard over the chainsaws. “Three of them!”
At the words, the rest of the men stopped what they were doing to turn wide eyes on Gregory and his brothers. The stench of fear filled the air and Gregory’s nostrils flared at the odor. He shook his head from side to side, baring his teeth in aggression, then following it up with a fierce growl for good measure. Orson and Barrett did their own variation, both of them sounding just as ferocious.
Their combined display of open hostility sent a good portion of the loggers running for their trucks, with Orson hot on their tails. He wouldn’t hurt them, but he would claw up their vehicles a bit and make sure they had something to remind them of their stupidity.
Some of the men weren’t as easily scared off, though. Instead, they stood their ground, chainsaws and axes at the ready. Gregory didn’t know if they were brave or just stupid. Okay, time for phase two.
Gregory growled again and stood up on his powerful, hind legs. At twelve feet, he was taller than most normal grizzlies. Letting out a massive roar, he threw his front paws over his head, making sure the men got a good look at his long, sharp claws as they came clearly into view. Beside him, he caught a glimpse of Barrett raking his own claws down the nearest tree trunk. Nothing like a close-up view of a set of razor-sharp, three-inch claws and a demonstration of what they could do something as tough as a tree trunk to make a person decide discretion really was the better part of valor.
A chainsaw an
d two more axes hit the ground as three more of the men hightailed it to their trucks with Barrett providing an escort.
That left two more men, one with an axe and the other with a chainsaw held firmly in front of him. These two looked more resolved and Gregory knew they weren’t going to fall for a simple display of strength. They would need a more direct approach. All right, enough screwing around.
Gregory dropped his forelegs to the ground with a thump that shook the nearby trees. Without hesitating, he launched himself at the axe-wielding logger. The fool actually tried to take a swing at him with the axe, but like most humans, he didn’t realize how fast a bear, especially a werebear, could be.
Gregory let the blade pass by him harmlessly, then stiff-armed the man’s shoulder with a closed paw. He could have ripped the guy’s head off, but while that might have been satisfying, it wasn’t what he was after. Nonetheless, the guy did go sailing through the air in a most gratifying manner. When he finally hit the ground, he lay there in a heap, moaning in pain.
Deciding the man wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while, Gregory turned back to find the guy with the chainsaw approaching him, the chain churning at full speed. Gregory was fairly confident he could have avoided the deadly implement like he had the axe, but he didn’t want to take a chance.
Instead he reached down to the forest floor and grasped one of the sections of smaller trees trunk the loggers had already cut down. He couldn’t really grab it, of course. Even as a werebear, his paws weren’t dexterous enough to do that. But he could clasp either end of the five-foot long log as if it were a great big medicine ball. Then, as the logger’s eyes widened, he executed a perfect chest pass, like he would if he was playing basketball with his brothers.