Bear Faced Liar

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Bear Faced Liar Page 23

by Alice Coldbreath


  “Are they his?” he rumbled.

  “No! They’re mine I swear it!”

  “Well, I know you didn't bring ‘em from the trailer,” he said in the same nasty suspicious tone. “Pris?”

  “No, I didn't bring them from the trailer,” she agreed placatingly.

  “And?”

  It was less fun, but she decided to tell the truth. “They’re my things. I packed them. I was on my way back to you.”

  He snorted.

  “What? I was!”

  “I don't want you bringing anything he bought you,” he said reaching to unfasten the back of the truck.

  “Wait!” she yelled. “Don't unload it! I swear the stuff is mine, Jared!” she started struggling on his shoulder. “It's photos and my personal things,” she yelled. God, he was so unreasonable!

  “Settle down,” he said swinging one of his palms to deliver a ringing slap to her butt.

  “Ow!”

  He let her slide down his hard torso until they were eye-to-eye, her legs dangling from his waist, him between her thighs, her back pressed hard against the truck.

  “Nothing he bought you is in those cases, Pristine?” he said warningly. “If I find out you lied to me...”

  “Nothing! I swear it,” she gazed back steadily, until he was satisfied.

  “You let him touch you?” he asked, his voice expressionless, the air suddenly charged.

  “No.”

  “You sure about that Pris? Not one hair on your pretty little head?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “He went in for a hug, but I pushed him away.” She stared back as his eyes bored into hers like lasers.

  Finally, his gaze flickered back to the house where all the windows were lit up with lights. His narrow gaze returned to hers. “I ought to fuck you now, against the side of this truck. Let him see exactly who you belong to,” he said, his hips pressing into hers, hard. “What do you say Pris? Shall we give him a show? Let him see how sweet you moan for me.”

  Oh my god!

  “There are security cameras on the side of the house,” she reminded him, her voice breathier than she would have liked.

  “I know that, baby,” he answered softly.

  Oh shit, he was serious! “Please Jared, I don't want that,” she said unsteadily.

  His smile didn't touch his eyes. “You think I can't smell how excited you are, Pris? If I took you now you wouldn't last two minutes before you were screaming my name. You know it, I know it. Ain't no point lying about it.”

  “Okay, that may be true,” she admitted. “But I still don't want something that's private between me and you to be witnessed by Stuart,” she felt his body jerk slightly as she said her ex's name aloud. Shit. “And probably some random security guy who goes through the footage.” she carried on as calmly as she could. “I don't want other men to see me like that honey. Just you.” She reached up and stroked her hand down his back. “Just you, Jared,” she said soothingly, realizing his beast was very close to the surface right now. “Just me and you.”

  Finally, he grunted. “Get your ass in the truck,” he said roughly.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  He was staring at her lips now and hadn't backed up a single inch. If he kissed her now, she thought with mounting panic, he wasn't going to be able to stop.

  “Please honey, I want to go home,” she begged, letting him see the tears starting in her eyes. She wasn't faking it. Sincerely, the whole crazy day was starting to get to her!

  His nostrils flared and he yanked back suddenly so fast she started to slide toward the ground before his big hands caught her about the waist and started hustling her toward his side of the truck. He was dragging her with very little finesse toward the driver's door, she noticed. What the hell?

  Flinging open the door, he boosted her into the seat and then slid in behind her. When she started to scramble toward the far passenger seat, his hand shot out, catching a handful of the back of her shirt and yanking her back. “Stay,” he growled.

  “Huh?”

  “Lap belt,” he said tersely.

  Pris looked down to see that indeed, there was indeed a lap-belt in the middle spot. She'd never noticed it before. As he slammed the door, she belted herself in and after only the slightest hesitation, leaned into him, giving him her weight. He growled again, and once he'd finished shifting the gear stick, he reached for her, yanking her tighter against him.

  “Honey,” she whimpered, twisting to wrap her arm around his waist. He leaned forward, his non-vocal demand obvious and with a small sigh she wrapped both her arms round his waist and wriggled until she was fully facing toward him. When even that failed to appease his hard profile, she turned to the side and hooked her top leg over his. “Can you still drive like this?” she whispered.

  He grunted, and his hand clamped around her knee, holding her leg to him. Resigning herself to a frankly uncomfortable journey she dropped her head onto his shoulder and sighed.

  “Don't you fucking move, Christine,” he warned her ominously.

  “I won't, baby,” she promised him, stroking her thumb at his waist in what she hoped was a gentling touch. Not even by the flicker of an eyelid did he register that he even felt it. She was starting to feel slightly panicked and aggrieved by the time they were approaching the neighboring town of Ephesus. The arm she had tucked behind his back was tingling with pins and needles and she was stiff and aching from trying to remain with her every limb plastered against him. When she shifted even slightly to alleviate the ache in her neck he growled at her.

  “Jared,” she protested.

  “Not one word,” he ground out.

  A slight trickle of alarm ran down her back at his unalleviated mood.

  “I want to stay at Carole-Ann's tonight,” she declared mustering her courage.

  There was a moment's heavy silence then he gave a short, harsh laugh. “Not a fuckin' chance.”

  Oh shit. He really was going to tan her backside this time, she thought with dismay. “This is ridiculous and unfair,” she objected, lifting her head from his shoulder. She ignored the angry rumble that came from his chest. “I'm the wronged party here Jared!” she pointed out. “You lied to me!” No response, but she could see his eyes were weirdly glowing. “You gave me a false identity and told everyone I was an ex-stripper who had been giving you the run-around! No wonder your sister hated me from the get go!” Nothing. No response. She glanced out the window and recognized they only had a few feet before they reached Cranston. Shit, shit, shit! “Who is Priscilla anyway?” she asked belligerently. “Maybe that's what I should be asking! Presumably you did have some stripper tucked away in Royston!” She jerked away from him, folding her arms across her chest. “Some stripper whose clothes I've been wearing for the past week!”

  He made the turning and they sailed past the 'Welcome to Cranston Falls' sign. “You want me to stop the truck now?” he asked in a voice that sounded like gravel. “Where everyone can see what I'm gonna do to you, or you want it in the trailer, between the two of us?”

  She sucked in a shocked breath, then when the truck swerved as if he was going to pull over on the main street she blurted “The trailer!”

  His chest rose and fell as he strove for calm. “You know what? Fuck this...” he said, pulling over the truck. “You're right,” he said tightly. “I am a bastard. A mean, nasty son of a bitch, but I am yours Pris and you're mine. God help you, you belong to me and if you think you're ever getting away from me, get ready for disappointment, ‘cos woman, I ain't never gonna let you go.” His voice broke on the last few words and he had to take a deep breath.

  Finally, the words she had been waiting for. Pretty much. “You're never gonna let me go?” she asked quietly, her eyes looking up into his.

  “No,” he shook his head. “Never.”

  “Good,” she said. “And I’m never going to let you go either. No matter what you say, when you realize you’re getting more than you bargained for.”
/>   He ignored that, his features set grimly “Get over here,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Pris shifted back to lean against him. “You demanding bastard,” she sighed as she wound an arm around his neck.

  “Oh, you haven't seen demanding yet, Pristine,” he promised darkly.

  She shivered and pressed closer. She didn't want a spanking, but she did want him. Forever. What was it Carole-Ann had said she needed to do? Provoke him? “You want to know something, Jared?” she asked him in a low voice, brushing the hair at the nape of his neck, as he started up the engine again. “I’ve been remembering all kinds of things in the last forty-eight hours. Like...how I used to think about you in the evenings after you'd packed up your tools for the day and gone home.” her voice got huskier. “And how I used to touch myself in the shower pretending it was you...” His head jerked forward at that and he swore. “I used to come so hard,” she whispered. “Just from imagining your hands on my body.” Her voice broke, “I felt so bad afterward. But then the next night, I'd do it all over again.”

  “Are you - fucking crazy - teasing me at a time like this?” he bit out.

  “Oh, I'm not teasing you honey,” she said boldly. “Teases don't deliver on their promises.”

  “Oh, you'd better believe you're going to deliver, Pristine,” he said as the truck wound up the bank toward their field. “You're gonna be on your back for the next three days.”

  “Only one position?” she asked daringly and bit her lip when he snarled.

  3 hours later

  “How were you gonna get back here?” he asked his voice slightly muffled from the arm he had flung across his face.

  “Huh?” Pris was lay slumped over his stomach.

  “You said you'd packed your case to come back to me,” he prompted.

  “Oh. The red car.”

  “Red car? You mean the Ferrari?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You were gonna drive his Ferrari back here?” he asked incredulously.

  “Ferrari's mine honey. I just used to let him drive it sometimes.”

  He snorted.

  “It's true,” she said turning her face to kiss his six-pack.

  “I can't buy you a Ferrari, baby,” he said regretfully. His hand came down to gently stroke the back of her head.

  “That's okay. I don't need you to,” she sighed happily. “I already have two.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Something told her he didn't believe her. She smirked against his skin. He would. In time.

  6 hours later

  “I need a shower,” she groaned, stirring at his side.

  His hand shot out, tucking her further into him. “Sleep,” he growled. “We'll shower later.”

  “But I can just take a shower now while you sleep...” she suggested. “I'm all... sticky.”

  “I don't care,” he rumbled callously.

  “Well you're not lying in a wet spot!”

  He gave a soft laugh. “Poor baby.”

  “Please?” she wheedled.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to watch.”

  “You need to watch me take a shower?” she repeated blankly. Then with a slight edge she said “I'm not about to run away Jared. Remember? I promised...”

  “I know,” he cut her off. “But I wanna watch.”

  She lifted her head off the pillow. “What? Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “No, I really don't, honey.”

  He rolled on top of her. “I want you to show me,” he said in a thick voice, shifting down her body until his eyes were level with hers. “How you used to touch yourself and think about me before I claimed you and made you mine.”

  “Oh,”” she felt her face fill with color. “You remember that story, huh?”

  “Oh yeah.” He kissed her lazily. “I want you to tell me every detail. And then act it out,” he added thoughtfully. “With a running commentary.”

  “Oh god!”

  9 hours later

  Pris ran a comb through her damp hair and was just spritzing the ends with some leave-in conditioner when she found herself scooped up and carried back through to the newly-changed bed. “You changed the sheets?”

  “You were taking too long,” he growled, hefting her onto the mattress.

  She bounced twice. “I haven’t even dried my hair yet!”

  But he was already crawling up the bed toward her.

  “What about food?” she objected. “I’m half-starved.”

  “So am I,” he said, but from the look in his eye, she could tell they weren’t talking about the same thing at all.

  12 hours later

  Pris waited. His fingers were playing in her hair, first the ends, and then they were running into her hair, shifting over her scalp.

  “I saw you lying there,” he said quietly after a moment. “And I think I just about lost my mind. All I could think about as getting you out of there and taking care of you. I had no conflict, no doubts. Me, the bear, we were in total accord over it.” He sighed. “And let's be honest, I'd wanted you from the start something fierce.”

  She frowned against his chest. “But Jared…” she tried to turn her head, but he kept a firm hold of her hair, holding her in place.

  “From the outset, Chrissy,” he said firmly.

  “But that wasn't...That was just desire,” she said patiently. “Yes, we were very attracted to each other, but you couldn't have known that we'd be compatible or that we'd work out as a couple.” She hesitated. “You couldn't have known how it would be between us.”

  He'd gone tense underneath her. “It's different for shifters,” he said tightly.

  She waited for him to elaborate. Then, it dawned on her that he wasn't going to. “That's it?” she asked, planting her palms down on the mattress and lifting off him. “That's all I get? It's different for shifters?” For a moment she was so angry she couldn't even speak. Then she pushed up off him and onto her heels. “Uh no, Jared,” she said “That's not good enough. I need more of an explanation than that.”

  His expression was guarded as he watched her crouched by his ankles. “Why?” he asked. “We are compatible and we did work out.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Um - my three stepmothers had filed a missing person report on me!” she reminded him. “They were worried sick!”

  “I'm glad someone from your whacked-out family was looking out for you, Pris,” he said with a shrug.

  “And?” she prompted. “What if my memory had never come back?” she demanded.

  His expression didn't even waver.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You'd have just...carried on? Living a lie?”

  “I don't know what you want me to say,” he admitted.

  “That...you would have looked into my background,” she stammered. Seeing his blank look, she gave a shocked gasp and pushed away from him, jumping off the bed.

  “Pris!” he came to his feet swiftly behind her as she marched out of the bedroom into the kitchen area.

  “I can't believe this!” she muttered as she filled the kettle with water and started to spoon instant coffee into mugs.

  He appeared seconds later, having paused to pull on his jeans. His expression relaxed when he found her slamming cupboard doors and after watching her a moment he leant his hip against one of the counters and crossed his arms across his bare chest. “I don't want to lie to you,” he said carefully. “And the truth isn't pretty. I just wanted you. I didn't give a rat's ass about wrong or right.”

  Pris bit her lip as she waited for the kettle to boil. She flung a glance his way, as she poured the hot water into the mugs. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Let's say I was a gold-digger like you thought. What if I'd had dependents Jared? What if I had - an elderly relative? Or a kid? Who depended on me for my support?” Her voice broke with anguish. “Didn't my previous life matter to you one bit?”

  He was across the space that separated them
in seconds and had pulled her into his arms. “I'm sorry, so sorry baby. I was an ass. A selfish bastard.”

  “W-what if I'd had a dog? Or a father who was still alive?” she sobbed.

  “Baby,” he said, cupping the back of her head and rocking her against him. 2I knew you didn't, okay? I didn't know the facts, but I knew you.”

  “No, you didn't,” she wept. Now she'd started she didn't seem to be able to stop.

  He was rubbing circles against her back. “Yes, I did,” he insisted. “Here's the thing baby, you're so strong, and Harber...was so fucking weak, honey. You wore the trousers in that relationship. Yes, you did baby, you could see it a mile off. If you'd had a daddy or a kid, or even a mangy old dog, I know this much. They would have been living with you in the lap of luxury. There's no way fucking way you'd have had it any other way.”

  She was still now, her cheek pressed to his tanned chest as she listened to him.

  “There's no way you'd have let an asshole like Harber take precedence over your own kin,” he said simply. “Even if the money had been his.”

  “But you didn't know me then, you thought I was a horrible, shallow bitch...” she pointed out.

  “No, baby,” he shook his head. “I knew he wasn't the right man for you. And I knew you were miserable with him. And I was fucking desperate to make you mine.”

  Pris shuddered against him and shut her eyes a moment letting him comfort her, his hands roaming up and down her back.

  “I just needed an opening, something,” he insisted. “Every time I was alone with you the mating instinct just got stronger and stronger... “ he shook his head. “Hell, I'd never been attracted to a woman the way I was with you. I was even jealous of you fighting with another man. I wanted it to be me. You and me. And then you got hurt,” his arms tightened around her. “And you were looking up at me through those big blue eyes asking me who I was, and where you were...Jesus baby. It was as much as I could do to walk away and not snatch you up. My bear was telling me you were mine. My heart was telling me you were mine. I sure as hell didn't want to leave you vulnerable with that asshole. No way he could take care of you like you needed. Like I could.” He drew a shaky breath. “And then he asked me to take you off his hands for a couple of weeks...A better man than me would have succumbed to that much temptation. Everything I wanted, trusting and beautiful in my arms. It was like I won the lottery and had all my dreams come true all in one go.”

 

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