PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Bear Naked Satisfaction (Fantasy Shapeshifter Alpha Male Romance Book 3) (Contemporary New Adult Billionaire Steamy Romance Short Stories)

by Audrey Storm

  “It’s a box?” Samantha asked, watching as Abel scooped a handful of papers out of the hollowed middle.

  “More of a safe,” Abel shrugged, snapping it closed again. “Here,” he said, dropping the stack onto the table in front of her. “Need a pen?”

  “Uh,” Samantha picked up the first page, glancing at the empty lines and square boxes. “What is—” But then she saw it. There, clear at the top of the page, were the words ‘Marriage License Application.’

  “What am I saying?” Abel sat up, reaching into his shirt pocket. “Of course you need a pen.”

  “This,” Samantha swallowed, dropping the paper back onto the stack. “This is—”

  “Just what we need to get married? Oh yes,” he nodded, placing a silver fountain pen next to the papers.

  She looked up at him. “You had it prepared.”

  He shrugged. “I’m always prepared. But let’s talk about you – are you always this inquisitive? Or are you just having second thoughts?” When Samantha didn’t answer, he sighed and said, “It’s just as well. I’ve got two people tailing your brother, so if you’ve changed your mind—”

  “No!” Samantha shook her head, and she grabbed the pen, quickly jotting in her name.

  “Perfect,” Abel smiled. He bent over the papers with her, pointing and flipping through the paperwork until she’d signed it all. Her hand felt numb, in the end, cramped and tired as she handed the pen back to him.

  “What now?” Samantha asked.

  “Now?” Abel frowned. Then, suddenly, he gasped, “Ah, you mean now that we’re legally married. Well, once I rush these off to the courthouse Monday morning, I suppose.” Standing, he moved to her couch, and sat down next to her. “What? Did you have something in mind?”

  His face was impossibly close to hers, their lips almost touching. Samantha opened her mouth to say something, to dissuade him, but then he pulled back of his own accord.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, patting her hand. “You’re my wife, and it’s you that I’ll treasure the most.”

  Samantha didn’t know what to say to that.

  They slept on separate beds that night, something that Samantha hoped would set a precedent for her future time in the penthouse. Abel hadn’t made a move toward her, either, not beyond the occasional teasing, and she planned to keep it that way. Luckily, she wasn’t disappointed, and after a day of doing nothing but dining in and watching weird shows on his HD television, they said goodnight and returned to their different rooms.

  Now it was Monday, and she’d been due at work three hours ago. Her coworkers were bound to notice her unusual absence, meaning that the police would be looking for her before too long.

  “Morning!” Abel greeted her, suddenly popping his head into her room. If Samantha hadn’t already been awake for the last few hours, lying in bed as she contemplated her life, then she was sure that she would’ve woken up screaming.

  “Good morning,” she replied calmly, sitting up. She wondered how long it’d take before someone tried to contact her.

  “So, I’m headed off to work,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks. “Be good, and don’t try to leave the building.”

  Samantha blinked. When had this become her life? “Okay,” she answered dully.

  “Wonderful,” he said, flashing a smile. “I’m off to turn in those marriage license forms – when I get home, we should be a real married couple. We’ll go out to eat, alright? To celebrate.”

  “Sure,” she replied, her thoughts far away on images of policemen wearing Kevlar vests carrying battering rams. “See you.”

  “Bye,” he called, waving as he walked away. She waited until she heard the sound of the elevator going down before she pushed herself out of bed and onto the cold floor.

  She was finally alone.

  “Phone, phone,” she chanted to herself, stepping out of the room. She hadn’t seen one earlier, but then, she hadn’t exactly been looking, not while she was under Abel’s keen eye. Sneaking into the kitchen, she kept an eye out for the odd biker lounging against a wall as she scanned the counters.

  Bam!

  Samantha screamed as the front door suddenly bust open, bouncing off the wall as men ran into the room. She dropped to the floor, hiding behind the island in the kitchen as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Gathering her strength, she glanced around the corner, her hands already raised as she imagined armored men bearing tall “POLICE” shields.

  But it wasn’t the daring rescue that she’d been hoping for. These men were clad in leather and silver spikes, with black ski masks pulled over their faces. She jerked back behind her short barricade as one of them looked her in the eye.

  “There!” he shouted, and she curled in on herself as they stampeded toward her. One of them grabbed her arm, dragging her up from where she’d fallen to her knees on the floor.

  “Let go!” she demanded. “Let—”

  She froze as the cold press of something round hit her neck, and the click of a trigger sounded right after it. “Move!” the man standing behind her yelled.

  But then the one gripping her arm scowled, and said, “Dude, put that away.”

  It was a voice that Samantha knew all too well.

  “James?!” she cried, looking the man in his familiar brown eyes. He seemed to pause, and then sighed, his shoulders sagging. No doubt about it, this was her brother. “James,” she said again, a desperate call of his name, and she threw her arms around him. “I knew it wasn’t true!” she laughed, a little hysterically. “I knew you wouldn’t do that to me!”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, and I’m here to rescue you, so let’s get the hell out of here, huh?”

  Samantha stood on numb legs and let him maneuver her towards the elevator. They must’ve known as well as she did that it was the only way in, or out. “Come on!” another man hissed.

  “Not that way,” the other man shook his head. “His men will be up here in that any second.”

  Thinking fast, they dragged her near the elevator and then right on past it, taking her instead to the large window acting as a half wall in the living room. Samantha frowned as they took her to it, and the tiny part of her brain not panicking had to wonder why they were wasting time with a view. Walking right up to the glass, each of the men stood at a different position, forming a sort of triangle.

  “Uh, James?” Samantha asked, glancing at his comrades.

  “Don’t worry,” James assured her. He pulled out what looked like a small black flashlight with a small metal point at the end, and he raised it against the glass as the other two men pulled out their own and followed suit. She watched as they suddenly thrust the things against the window, jumping as the glass shattered all around them.

  “Here,” James pointed. “The fire escape.”

  Sure enough, a thin grated landing was just a foot below the window, the first of many that led down the building like a great black ladder. James stepped out onto it first, the platform rattling under his weight. Samantha hesitantly moved after him, gripping the loose railing as the other two men jumped on.

  They ran down the stairs, and Samantha kept her eyes on her brother’s back rather than the narrow street below. No one seemed to be following them, thank goodness, and they made it to solid ground with only a few bizarre looks their way.

  “Inside,” James said, pushing her to a white van that was humming in the back parking lot as it sat with the engine running. Samantha didn’t question her brother, and she stepped inside of the vehicle without a backwards glance.

  Until the door snapped shut behind her, and she was alone, staring at a pair of blue eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” they narrowed in laughter, and a short man turned on the overhead light. “I’m not my brother – I won’t hurt you.”

  Chapter 3

  Samantha jumped as the van started to move underneath her, and she scrambled to take a seat. The man across from her was watching with narrowed eyes and a smug smile, and f
or a moment she worried if she’d simply just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  Well, being passive hadn’t worked out with Abel. Maybe his brother would appreciate a more aggressive tone. Besides, he didn’t seem nearly as intimidating as the broad biker boss. This man was more the opposite – short and plump, with the buttons on his sweater vest bulging against his stomach. Samantha swallowed the hard lump in her throat and spoke up.

  “You’re Abel’s brother?” she asked lightly.

  “Yes,” the man said, sitting up straight as he puffed out his chest. “Cain.” Samantha wasn’t sure what to say to that, but luckily the man apparently felt like talking. “I’m his little brother,” he explained. “Always been looking up to his enormous shadow. Suffocating, is what it is. But now, my dear, you’ve finally given me something to make him stumble.”

  Samantha frowned. “Me?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said, nodding happily as he crossed his legs. His shined leather shoes caught the light, and she found herself straightening the pajamas that she’s slept in last night. “I’ve known about you for a while, Samantha Smith – and not just from James. Abel hasn’t shut up about you ever since he caught sight of your picture in your brother’s wallet.”

  “Sight of me?” Samantha repeated. “No, he said that James—”

  “That James gave you up, and yes, he did,” he sighed, bored. “But he only thought to trade you because of Abel’s fascination. And it is only because of that obsession that he thought to bring you to me.”

  “I don’t understand.” Samantha brought a hand up to her forehead and closed her eyes. In the past two days she’d been borderline kidnapped, forced into marriage, and then saved only to be kidnapped again. “Are you rescuing me?”

  “Your brother thinks I am,” Cain shrugged. “And I am taking you away from him. Tell me, has he fucked you yet?”

  Samantha gulped, and with a confidence that she didn’t have, she replied, “He married me.”

  That made Cain pause. Then, as if a new wind had blown into his sails, he smiled, and said, “Well then. I suppose we’ll have to make him a cuckold—”

  The van suddenly swerved, and both Samantha and Cain grabbed onto the sides of the van to keep from falling to the ground.

  “Peter!” Cain shouted, banging his fist on the back of the driver’s seat. “You idiot!”

  “Sorry, sir!” a nasally voice answered. The van roared as it picked up speed, and the man shouted, “It’s your brother! His gang!”

  “What?” Cain hissed, and he pulled himself up from his seat to peek past the seats and through the windshield. “Shit,” he cursed.

  “Sir, what should I—”

  “Drive,” Cain spit. “Get us out of here!”

  Samantha held on for dear life as the van scraped the road in a sharp turn and barreled down the road. She could hear other motors, now. Louder and faster, whizzing by with ease.

  “No!” Cain shouted. “Don’t let them—!”

  With a crunch, the van bounced backwards before coming to a jerky stop. It’d obviously rammed into something, and Samantha looked up, wondering if anyone had been hurt.

  If James had been hit.

  Grabbing the door handle, she yanked the door open with a bang and shakily jumped out of the van. The ground was gravel, and she realized, belatedly, that they weren’t in the city anymore. They’d taken a turn somewhere, and ended up near the reserve on the edge of town.

  “Samantha!”

  She looked up, squinting against the harsh sunlight, hoping to see a skinny boy who shared her eyes. Her heart skipped when, instead, it was a tall man with long black hair and a blue stare calling out to her, running to her side.

  “A-Abel,” she said, though she barely had time to get his name out before he was sweeping her up in a hug, his hands threading through her hair as he cradled her head.

  “I saw the window,” he said softly, so only she could hear. “I thought…” he shook his head. “But you’re stronger than that.”

  “You thought I’d jumped?” she said slowly, her confused frown turning into one of anger. “Because, what?” she said hotly, pushing him away. “Because you locked me in your penthouse? Or forced me to sign that marriage license?”

  “Ah,” Cain said, climbing out of the van with a hand to his bleeding head. “I had wondered what you’d meant by ‘married’ you.”

  “Andrew!” Abel scowled. “I should’ve known it was you!”

  “Andrew?” Samantha asked, glancing at the shorter man.

  “It’s Cain,” he demanded, his hands balling up into fists. “I’m the cursed—”

  “Oh, not this shit again,” Abel rolled his eyes. “Look, Sam, I’m sorry about whatever this asshole has done to you, but—”

  “What I’ve done? Oh no, brother,” Cain grinned. “You’ve done so much that she actually asked if I was her rescuer!”

  “And just what are you doing with her, Andrew?” Abel sighed, turning to his brother.

  “She’s mine,” he huffed, his face red. “I got her, fair and square, from her brother—”

  “James doesn’t own her anymore,” Abel seethed. “And when I catch that little—”

  “Enough!”

  The two brothers turned to look at Samantha, both wearing the same stunned look on their blue-eyed faces.

  “No one owns me,” she glared, pointing a finger at the two of them. Abel glanced at his brother, then took a step towards her, shrugging.

  “My dear, if you remember—”

  “You want my brother?” she said, exasperated. “Fine. Take him. But we both know that you don’t have men tailing him, or he wouldn’t have been able to break me out of your place. Which means that you’re happy with me,” she said, steeling herself. It was go big or go home at this point, and she’d have to test just where the line was with this guy if she wanted to get out of it. “Your brother told me,” she said sternly. “You’re in love with me.”

  Abel’s blue eyes grew wider, and he turned a harsh look on Cain. “Andrew,” he growled.

  “And if you want me and you to work at all? Then you’ll take me home,” she said, just barely keeping her voice even. “Right now.”

  Abel couldn’t order his men to bring a car around fast enough.

  He walked her up to her apartment, something she was just barely able to stand. It wasn’t that she thought he’d go back on his word and take her back to the penthouse instead (though, that was a lingering threat), but more how he couldn’t shut his mouth.

  “It wasn’t real, I promise,” he said again for the fiftieth time. “The application was just to, well, convince you, I suppose.”

  “Make me feel trapped,” Samantha said tiredly as she trudged up the stairs.

  “Well, yes,” Abel nodded. “I didn’t plan to physically trap you, though. I’d planned to take you out when I got home tonight—”

  “And keep me under your thumb until I got fired and had nowhere else to go anyway,” she finished for him.

  “No,” Abel said, and his simpering tone finally changed into something with more backbone. “I called in for you.”

  That made her pause. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You did?”

  “Yes,” he said proudly. “I wasn’t about to completely overthrow your life. I just wanted to make it a part of mine,” he added feebly.

  Samantha rolled her eyes as she looked back towards the front. How had she allowed such an eager to please bike boss rule her life for the past two days? He was completely wrapped around her finger.

  “This is me,” she said, stopping at her door. “But then, you knew that.”

  Abel didn’t answer, but said instead, “How about that dinner? It doesn’t have to be today,” he said quickly. “But, sometime.”

  “And why would I,” she asked, sticking her key in the lock. “Go on a date with you?”

  “I’ll stop the hunting party for your brother,” he promised.

  Samantha frown
ed, and half-stepped into her apartment, hanging on the doorway. “Isn’t that a bit of an empty threat? You touch him, I hate you.”

  “He still owes me money,” Abel said, and Samantha raised an eyebrow at the hand that he had moving around in his coat pocket. Was he fidgeting?

  She sighed. “One date, and you never touch my brother again.”

  “Deal,” he beamed at her. Samantha blinked back, immediately regretting her decision.

  Chapter 4

  “It’s Harley-Davidson.”

  Samantha stared at the curved bike parked before her, the matt black color of it reminding her of the bat mobile. And just like that crazy contraption, she had no interest to get Abel’s motorcycle.

  “Black, just like all my other bikes,” he boasted, patting the leather seat. “But this one is my favorite. It’s a V-rod, my heaviest bike at six hundred and sixty-six pounds. Goes from zero to sixty in three point fifty-nine seconds,” he said, snapping his fingers happily.

  Samantha tried to ignore the fact that his bike weighed the same as the number of the beast, and instead focused on the helmets that he was holding under his arms. “Is one for me?” she asked, pointing to them.

  “Oh, yes,” Abel smiled, and he tossed the red one to her. She barely caught it, and he chuckled. “I’ll be driving, so don’t worry.”

  But that was exactly why she was worried. “Where are we going again?” she asked, not that Abel had told her even once.

  “Somewhere special,” he promised. “Now, c’mere,” he said, climbing onto the bike. It barely moved under his weight, and he patted the small space of leather in between his thighs.

  “Uh,” she said. “Don’t the extra passengers usually sit on the back?”

  “Not on the V-rod,” he smiled. “Too easy to slip off.”

  While it was true that the small curve of metal just after the indent of the seat was tiny, she still felt like Abel wasn’t being entirely honest. Sighing to herself, she pulled on the helmet and walked over.