Smolder: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 2)

by Sexton, Ophelia

  Dane shrugged and stepped past her to hold open the office door. Trying not to stumble on legs that suddenly felt wobbly, Caitlyn walked out into the hall.

  Mark was actually serious about her? Her amazing, sexy fling wasn't just a fling?

  Three days, she thought numbly, as she walked back to the dining room. Dane followed close on her heels, as if he was afraid she was going to make a run for the front door. It's only been three days. I can't possibly make a commitment.

  It was crazy to contemplate staying here in the middle of nowhere, she told herself.

  But she didn't want to leave either. Not yet.

  Chapter Eleven – Going All The Way

  Roger Pemberton's eyes bulged, and he began to rant in earnest. "…and that fucking cop just pretended like nothing happened! Then he arrested me, for Chrissakes! I was the fucking victim in all this!"

  "What happened next?" Caitlyn had asked, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing.

  She didn't want the prison guards to call a premature halt to the interview because Pemberton was too worked up.

  "That fucking cop and Bethie's redneck boyfriend and all of their friends lied through their teeth," Roger snarled, his face turning red now. "But you can expose them, Ms. Morgan! Tell the world how those people—those monsters—framed me and locked me up here because I saw something they didn't want me to see."

  He leaned forward until his forehead nearly touched the thick glass panel separating them. "They're all monsters in that town. I've heard the stories. They turn into animals, and they get rid of anyone who sees them do it!"

  At first, Caitlyn had found the blond inmate with his clean-cut features charming and confident. He had thanked her for coming and expressed himself a big fan of her articles and of the Mythtrust News site.

  But as the interview progressed, and she began to question Pemberton about what had happened on the night of the fire, his smooth veneer had started to crack and peel, revealing something ugly and rage-filled beneath the surface.

  Caitlyn had to fight to keep her expression calm and detached when he began ranting about how his fat bitch of a fiancée had cheated on him with some redneck.

  How he had done her a big favor by dating the woman he insisted on calling "Bethie," and how she had humiliated him in return. And how everyone back in San Francisco had acted like they felt sorry for him when she left without saying good-bye. But really, they were laughing behind his back because he had let the bitch cut off his balls.

  But he loved her, so he had to go after her. Beg her for one more chance.

  Caitlyn understood that, didn't she?

  Caitlyn had nodded automatically, her stomach roiling with disgust at his description of Mark's sweet, thoughtful sister-in-law.

  She couldn't imagine how Annabeth had ever hooked up with this creep and wondered why the other woman hadn't left sooner.

  Then Pemberton had gotten to the crux of the matter—when Annabeth's bakery had caught fire, he knew he'd be blamed for it, so he had decided to leave town. But her redneck boyfriend caught sight of him…and the next thing Pemberton knew, he was being chased by a huge, enraged bear with enormous claws.

  It had torn off his car door and hauled him out. The sheriff had arrived in the nick of time to keep Roger from being torn apart, but then the unbelievable had happened…

  The bear had turned into a big naked man. Into Annabeth's redneck boyfriend.

  Now, Roger sat back and stared at her. He was panting.

  And Caitlyn just wanted to end the interview and get away from the prison.

  She was now 100% convinced there was no real supernatural story here, just a sick man who hated Annabeth and Dane and was willing to do anything and say anything to hurt them.

  She had read the trial transcripts and knew that it hadn't just been Sheriff Jacobsen and Dane Swanson's testimony that had convicted Roger Pemberton. A State Fire Marshal had assisted in the arson investigation. And there had been plenty of forensic evidence recovered from Pemberton's car and his person that linked him to the fire, and witnesses who had seen him lurking around the bakery just before the fires.

  Caitlyn gathered up her notes.

  "Thank you for your time, Mr. Pemberton," she said as politely as she could.

  On the other side of the glass barrier, Pemberton's eyes widened. "That's it? You're not going to ask me any more questions?"

  Caitlyn shook her head. "Unless you have any photos or videos you'd like to share with Mythtrust News, I think that'll do it."

  Pemberton scowled. "A video?" He sneered. "I thought that bear was going to kill me! I didn't even think about my phone until after it was all over."

  * * *

  Talking to Roger Pemberton had made her feel like she was covered in a thin layer of invisible slime, Caitlyn realized as she emerged from the prison into a cold, gray, wet afternoon.

  She inhaled deeply, feeling fresh air fill her lungs, trying to feel clean again.

  Her interview with Pemberton had left her deeply unsettled…and convinced that he was profoundly ill, infected with some vile strain of poisonous hatred.

  She felt instantly better when she caught sight of Mark in the prison's visitor parking lot.

  He was standing next to one of the big white Grizzly Creek Ranch's pickup trucks and hurried forward with an umbrella as soon as he caught sight of her.

  After the dinner, Caitlyn and Mark had endured a couple of awkward days. He hadn't tried to make out with her again, and she could sense that he was walking on eggshells around her, as if saying or doing the wrong thing might make her leave.

  He hadn't even kissed her good-night since then, but she could sense how badly he wanted to. Just as badly as she wanted to.

  She couldn't stop thinking about what Dane had told her, and she began nerving herself to make the first move, hoping to pick up where they had left off.

  Then, Caitlyn had received word from the Idaho Department of Corrections that she had passed the background check and could visit Roger Pemberton in prison if she wished.

  Mark had instantly snapped out of his funk and insisted on driving her to her interview appointment at the prison, which was located a five-hour drive southwest of Bearpaw Ridge.

  Caitlyn had protested at first that she didn't need to be driven, since the truck was an automatic, which meant she didn't need her still-sore left foot to work a clutch.

  But Mark had insisted. He wasn't going to let her get anywhere near Roger Pemberton by herself.

  Touched by his protectiveness, she had given in. And it was good to spend some time with him in the car, just talking, without the weird constraint that had marked their interactions since the night of the dinner at his mom's house.

  "How'd it go?" Mark asked, looking concerned.

  Caitlyn just shook her head. She didn't know what her expression revealed, but she found herself suddenly wrapped in a hug. It was just what she needed.

  She clung to Mark, inhaling his scent and enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around her. She had missed his touch. And she was very glad he had insisted on coming with her.

  He held her for a long time, while she got the psychic stink of the prison—and Roger Pemberton's personality—out of her head. She buried her face in his chest and just stood here, soaking up the wordless comfort he offered as he gently stroked her back.

  "Hey," said Mark said finally, his breath ruffling her hair. "Why don't we get some dinner?"

  "Dinner sounds great, actually," she said, finally forcing herself to step away from him.

  Mark scrutinized her with a worried frown. "And maybe a drink. You're as white as a sheet. What happened in there?"

  Caitlyn shuddered. "Ugh. Roger Pemberton is a toxic creep."

  "Got that right," Mark said grimly.

  She looked up at him. "He hates Annabeth and Dane so much. I'm worried about what he'll try to do to them when he gets out of prison."

  "Dane will protect Annabeth," Mark said with complete conf
idence. "And so will the rest of the Swansons. Annabeth is one of us now, and we protect our own. We always have, and we always will."

  He touched her cheek with gentle fingers. Something hot squeezed Annabeth's chest at the look in his eyes. "That includes you too, Caitlyn, if you ever need my help."

  He's head over heels for you, Dane had said.

  And for the first time, Caitlyn really believed it. Believed that Mark felt more for her than just the fantastic sexual chemistry they shared.

  Caitlyn had never believed in love at first sight, but being with Mark just felt so natural, so right. He made her feel not only beautiful and sexy, but also safe.

  When he said he'd help her if she ever needed him, she knew in her bones that it was true.

  His words felt like a shower of fresh water, rinsing away the last of the contamination she felt from her interview.

  They drove out of the lot, leaving the barbed wire and watchtowers behind, and headed into Boise.

  As Mark drove, Caitlyn pulled out her phone and found an Italian restaurant on Yelp that looked promising. She soon found herself sitting across from Mark at a table lit by a candle in a pretty glass holder.

  A plate of linguine Alfredo with shrimp and mushrooms, and a glass of crisp, fruity Pinot Grigio later, and she was feeling back to normal.

  Mark had demolished his rosemary-flavored Bistecca alla Fiorentina with relish, accompanied by a hearty, garnet-colored Sangiovese.

  Now he reached across the table and took her hand, stroking the backs of her fingers with his thumb. His touch sent a jolt of pleasure up her arm at the contact.

  "Do you want any dessert?"

  She sure did, and badly. But not the kind of dessert he was asking about.

  Caitlyn smiled and turned her hand palm up, closing her hand around his.

  "Hey," she said softly. "How would you feel about getting a hotel room rather than trying to drive back to the ranch tonight?"

  It was at least a five-hour drive back to Bearpaw Ridge, most of it along a narrow highway that wound through the mountains.

  The candlelight shimmered in Mark's eyes, turning them to gold. "Just one room?" he asked softly. "Are you sure?"

  Caitlyn nodded. "I'm sure." She added tentatively, "I'm feeling completely healed up now."

  His fingers tightened around her hand as his gaze burned into her. "That's not what I meant." He looked away. "I want you, Caitlyn. I want you so badly that it's all I've been able to think about since I met you. But this—I don't know." His voice dropped even further, until it was just above a whisper. "It's going to break me when you leave."

  Her heart felt like something was squeezing it. She couldn't seem to take a full breath.

  "I—I could stay. For a while longer. If you don't mind giving up your guest bedroom."

  "I don't mind," he interrupted, his voice firm. His lids lowered. "But after this, you won't be sleeping in my guest bedroom."

  His promise sent another thrill racing through her.

  "Well, I'm sure my boss would let me telecommute for as long as I wanted," she offered. "He's already given me permission to keep doing it for the near future."

  But still he hesitated, though she could feel his need like a flame against her skin, hungry and almost too hot to bear.

  She looked at their joined hands, resting on the linen tablecloth. "Please, Mark. I…really like you. And I want you too."

  He groaned quietly and lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed each of her knuckles tenderly, kindling something heated and urgent between her legs.

  "How can I resist you?" He waved the waiter over. "We'll get the desserts to go."

  * * *

  Caitlyn had barely closed the door of the hotel room behind her when strong hands seized her and pushed her up against the wall next to the door.

  It was a nice hotel, more expensive than the places usually in her budget range, but she didn't get a chance to appreciate the furnishings before Mark closed in.

  He pinned her with his hips, hands tangled in her hair as he bent and captured her mouth in a heated kiss.

  It was passionate, a little rough, and totally hot. She made a noise of pure need deep in her throat and arched against him, feeling the hard ridge of his erection behind the denim of his jeans.

  She pushed his coat off his shoulders, and he let go of her long enough to pull his arms out of it, letting it fall to the floor. But he never stopped the hard, sensual assault on her mouth.

  Her fingers scrabbled against the fabric of his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. She craved the feeling of his bare skin against her palms, taut and warm over hard muscle.

  Mark drew back a little, his breath coming fast. "Last chance," he growled. "After this, you're mine."

  That mine felt like a shot of whiskey hitting her stomach, spreading heat and light like a miniature sun. She smiled up at him. "Does that mean you're mine too?"

  "Yes," he said. "Always."

  He leaned in for another kiss. She turned her head, needing to tell him one more thing.

  "I'm on birth control," she said, referring to the matchstick-sized implant just under the skin of her upper arm.

  He froze. "Oh, good. I wasn't expecting to—I mean, I didn't bring anything—"

  She silenced him with a quick kiss. "And now you don't have to worry."

  "I wasn't worried," he said. "Whatever happened."

  She blinked. Then he drove all thought out of her mind by cupping her breasts through the ivory silk shell she had worn under a sage-green jacket to the interview.

  He caressed her sensitive nipples with his thumbs, so that they stiffened and pressed against the layers of clothing imprisoning them.

  Her desire flared even hotter.

  Desperate to get him naked as quickly as possible, she yanked the rest of his shirt up and began pulling at the buttons. It was tricky, because he was trying to undress her at the same time and with the same single-minded speed.

  At some point, with both of them all tangled up in sleeves and collars, she began to laugh.

  She flattened her hands against his half-bared chest. "Wait—wait—" she protested breathlessly. "Let me do you first."

  "I'm all yours," he said, in a sultry tone that made her giggle.

  He took a half-step back and held his arms out to the side.

  I really should take my time and enjoy this, Caitlyn thought, but she wanted him much too badly to go slowly.

  It was all she could do not to tear off his buttons as she fumbled with them.

  She got his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. And couldn't help running her hands over his broad chest and muscled abs.

  "You're beautiful," she said fervently.

  He grinned, but she saw the flush rising from his collarbones up through his beard. "Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

  "You can if you like," she responded, fluttering her eyelashes at him with exaggerated flirtatiousness.

  He laughed, then went very still as she put her hands on his belt buckle.

  "Oh, God, please hurry," he said.

  She grinned at him, moved her hands to his hips, and slowly sank down to her knees. "Boots first," she said primly.

  He was wearing fancy leather cowboy boots today instead of his usual steel-toed work boots.

  Mark groaned but let her pull them off before she reached up to deal with his belt.

  She pulled his jeans and underwear down to his ankles, watching hungrily as his cock sprang free, erect and ready for action.

  Caitlyn leaned forward to place a playful kiss on the broad tip. It felt smooth and burning-hot against her lips.

  Mark groaned again and pulled her up with his effortless strength.

  "My turn now," he informed her.

  He stripped off her jacket, blouse, and bra in a jiffy, then paused to kiss his way down her throat to her bare breasts, paying loving attention to each one as she squirmed with impatience and rising heat.

  The combination of slow kisses, his t
ongue, and the bristles from his beard was driving her crazy with need. And he knew it, if his wicked smile was anything to go by.

  When he finally pulled her jeans and panties off, she was so turned on that she felt that she could come at any second.

  "Mark," she begged, when he came back up to his feet. "Please. Now."

  His eyes blazed gold. "Oh God, yes."

  They didn't even make it to the bed. Mark put his hands on her waist and lifted her effortlessly. He took two steps forward and she felt the wall press against her shoulder blades.

  "Open your legs," he ordered.

  She complied eagerly and felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her wet, aching entrance. Then he moved into her with one powerful thrust, filling her completely.

  "Oh. My. God," she gasped, relishing the way he stretched her. She wrapped her thighs around his hips.

  He took her fast and hard against the wall, his mouth covering hers, muffling her moans as he moved against her, his stiff length caressing her clit with every long thrust.

  Caitlyn wound her arms around his neck and returned his kiss as every nerve in her body seemed to catch fire.

  Her climax took her by surprise, starting somewhere deep inside her with powerful pulses. She clung to Mark as his thrusts sped up. Her climax went on and on without dying away, lifting her on waves as if she were floating in a vast sea of pleasure.

  He gasped against her lips, and she felt every muscle in his body tense as he came, his thrusts faltering and losing their rhythm.

  When he was done, he shifted his grip and stepped away from the wall, holding her still firmly joined to him.

  "Mine," he said as he carried her over to the bed.

  They fell on it together, where he proceeded to kiss and caress every inch of her until she was hovering on the brink of another climax.

  Then he moved over her, his big, hard body pushing her down into the mattress as he entered her again. Caitlyn wrapped her arms and legs around him, enjoying the weight and solid strength of him as he moved on top of her.

  This time, his movements were slow and deep as he drove her to a second climax before coming himself.

  "Mine," he said again, as he collapsed on top of her.