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

by Sexton, Ophelia

"Yours," she agreed and received a breathtakingly sweet smile in return.

  He cuddled with her for a bit, rekindling her arousal with teasing caresses over her sensitized breasts.

  Then he urged her to turn over and get up on her hands and knees while he took her from behind. It was raw and animalistic, his fingers digging into her hips as he went deep. She gasped and writhed and quickly found herself coming again.

  A brief respite of kissing, then, unbelievably, he was ready to go again. This time they spooned together on the bed, his hands cupping her breasts as he moved against her.

  Shortly after that, she rode him as he sprawled on his back, hands reaching up to cup and squeeze her breasts.

  "I'm in heaven," he told her, and she redoubled her efforts.

  When he came, thrusting up into her with a loud growl, she collapsed onto his chest. He was still inside her, and still hard.

  "Mercy, cowboy!" she panted. "You wore me out. I can see why you wanted me in good shape for this."

  It was true. She was still turned on but too sore to continue. Not to mention that all of her muscles felt about as strong as limp dishrags.

  He traced the line of her spine. "You didn't come this time. I like to see you come, Caitlyn. It's beautiful, and it makes me feel good to know that I'm pleasuring you."

  She laughed. "I've already come more times than I ever have. I feel lucky if I make it to the finish line once on a date." With an effort, she raised her head from his chest. "You're definitely a keeper, Mark Swanson."

  "Glad to hear it," he said, tucking a strand of sweat-soaked hair behind her ear. "Now, let me see you come for me one more time."

  "I can't move," she protested, giggling. "Honest."

  "You won't have to do a thing," he promised, in a low voice that made her want to melt. "Just lie back and enjoy yourself."

  He was as good as his word as he put her on her back, then lay between her thighs and did things to her with his hot, wet mouth that left her unable to do anything but moan.

  Mark seemed to enjoy giving as much as she enjoyed receiving, and "one more time" quickly turned into "two more times."

  It was a long while before she could move again, but that was okay. She was floating in boneless bliss, cradled in his arms.

  Eventually, though, she became aware of how sweaty and sticky she was.

  "How about we shower together and then share dessert?" he suggested, as if reading her mind.

  Two foam takeout boxes filled with cannoli and tiramisu had survived their frantic first bout of lovemaking and perched precariously on the table near the door.

  Caitlyn sat up with an effort, then slowly climbed out of the nest of rumpled sheets they had created.

  Mark rushed to her side, and putting an arm around her waist, guided her to the bathroom, which featured both a shower and a large tub.

  He drew a bath, and while the tub was filling, urged her into the shower. There, he tenderly washed her from head to feet with gentle, caressing strokes of his hands over her hair and skin.

  Caitlyn wanted to return the favor, but it was all she could do to remain upright.

  Once the tub was filled, they settled in for a soak in the hot water. Caitlyn relaxed against Mark's chest, her head on his shoulder.

  She realized that she was happier than she had ever been. It was like being filled with a warm glowing substance that filled every vein and artery in her body. .

  "Stay with me in Bearpaw Ridge," Mark said softly.

  Below the surface of the water, he was stroking the gently rounded curve of her belly.

  "I already talked to Jake about telecommuting for a while," she reminded him. "He was fine with it."

  Mark wrapped both arms around her. "I want you to stay for longer than just a week or two."

  She wanted to stay longer too and realized that she dreaded the day she would have to leave him. Her cute little studio apartment back in Albuquerque suddenly seemed sterile and lonely. And somehow contaminated by the crime that had been committed there.

  "I'm sure I could be convinced," she replied, fighting to keep her tone light and playful. "How long did you have in mind?"

  "How about forever?"

  She stiffened in surprise. What? He can't be serious about that…can he?

  "I know we've only known each other for a short time, but you feel it, don't you?" he continued.

  She suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe.

  "Yes," she whispered, reaching out to trace one of the muscles cording his forearm.

  He shivered under her touch. She felt him inhale sharply.

  Then he took her hand and raised it to his lips. She felt him kiss her ring finger.

  Even now, after everything they'd done together tonight, the touch of his lips against her skin sent a jolt down her spine.

  "Caitlyn, will you marry me? I want you with me, under my roof and in my bed, every night and every day. I don't want you to ever leave me."

  Caitlyn suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe. She was torn by opposing emotions—dizzying joy and sheer terror.

  She clamped her jaws shut around an automatic yes.

  You’ve known Mark Swanson for a week, she reminded herself. This isn't a movie. Real people don't fall in love and make commitments this fast. You've just got a huge crush on him, that's all.

  She turned in his arms to face him.

  "I—" she began. Want to. "—can't, Mark."

  She closed her eyes against the disappointment in his face.

  "You're a great guy, and I—" Unable to help herself, she touched his bearded cheek, then trailed her fingers down to that broad, hard chest. "Like being with you. A lot. But…marriage?"

  Oh, God, she was doing this all wrong, and her big, strong, sexy firefighter was looking like someone had just kicked his puppy.

  "I mean, that's a big commitment. A lifetime commitment…"

  Except my parents only managed to make it work until I was seven.

  But that had only made her more determined that when the time came, she would do it right. Til death do us part. Nothing less.

  "I feel the same way," Mark said quietly. He stared up at the bathroom ceiling. "But sometimes you just know when you've met the right person, Caitlyn."

  "I—I just don't know," she faltered.

  She liked him more than anyone else she'd ever met. And wanted him. But the idea of uprooting her life and moving to a ranch two states away on the basis of a week-long fling…well, it was ridiculous, wasn't it?

  "Didn't you promise to be mine?" he asked, and his voice was raw now.

  "I did, and I meant it. Only, I meant it like a—a girlfriend, or something."

  He closed his eyes, and the pain in his expression made her own chest ache. She couldn't bear to hurt him. But she couldn't say yes to his proposal either. Not yet, at least.

  Then she had an idea.

  "I want to be with you, Mark," she said, smoothing her hands over his bearded cheeks. "But I just need some time. How about this: I'll take an option on your proposal."

  "A—what?" His eyes popped open, and he looked momentarily bewildered. "You mean, like a stock option?"

  She nodded. "Yep, exactly. I'm not ready to buy yet, but I want an option to exercise your proposal later on."

  Mark gave a huff of laughter and shook his head disbelievingly. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

  "I read it in a book. It seemed like a reasonable solution," Caitlyn defended herself.

  She waited while he thought it over.

  He gave her a long, level stare. "Okay, tell you what—I'll grant you the option on my proposal if you promise that you won't leave Bearpaw Ridge, or me, until you've exercised your option," he swallowed hard, "one way or the other."

  "I should have remembered that you're a lawyer as well as a firefighter," she said wryly. "Deal. I'll stay with you until I exercise my option."

  "And longer if you agree to marry me," he said firmly. "Also, before we close the deal, I
have one more question: how do you feel about having kids?"

  "I want them someday, but not while I'm single and trying to get my career started," she answered honestly. Some unknown force inside her compelled her to add, "But I definitely want your babies, if we get married."

  "Good." She felt his muscles relax. The tension in his features smoothed out. "So now all I have to do is convince you to exercise your option and buy my stock." He gave her a slow smile. "Challenge accepted, Caitlyn Morgan."

  Uh-oh. What have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Twelve – Assassin

  Three days later

  My career as a cop is over, and it's all because of that arrogant asshole, Philippe Bertrand. He's found the perfect way to make me fix his fuck-up while punishing me for not kissing his incompetent ass.

  Pete Langlais pulled up in front of an old brick building and parked along the curb. Trying to put off the inevitable for a few more minutes, he looked around at his surroundings.

  It looked more like a Hollywood version of small-town America than the real thing. Bearpaw Ridge's main street was lined with brick and wooden buildings in a variety of architectural styles. Most of them appeared to date from before the Second World War, and all of them looked lovingly maintained.

  The sidewalks were clean, the air was clear, and the town looked prosperous, Main Street lined with stores selling everything from insurance to fishing gear. Throw in the scenic backdrop of forested, snow-capped peaks in the distance, and yep, this place looked like the set for a Lifetime Channel nostalgia piece.

  The scenery had been spectacular all the way down from the airport in Missoula, a four-hour drive away. The fresh green of spring had been budding from twigs and sprouting from meadows and pastures. He had seen elk, deer, a couple of bald eagles, and even a moose.

  This place looked like shifter heaven—a much better place for his kind to live than in the arid, strip-mall-infested suburbs of Albuquerque.

  Two things struck Pete when he finally stepped out of his rental car. The first was the irresistible fragrance of cinnamon and baking dough drifting down the street.

  The second was the scent of other shifters. A lot of them. Primarily wolf and bear, but there was a whiff of cat too—probably cougar.

  Well, shit, Pete thought angrily as he slammed his car door. It would have been real nice if Bertrand had warned me that this was a shifter community.

  He would have to tread very carefully, but luckily for him, Caitlyn Morgan was a stranger in these parts and an Ordinary. Pete didn't think he'd be risking the wrath of a local shifter clan if he pursued his prey here.

  He hadn't wanted to come here, but pride law stated that he could only disobey the Pride Second if the Pride First intervened on his behalf.

  After receiving his orders from Bertrand, Pete had tried to contact his mother, the Pride First, but she hadn't responded to any of the dozen or so text messages, phone calls, and voicemail messages he had left her.

  And that worried him even more than being sent here to do Bertrand's dirty work for him. It was unlike her to ignore the members of her pride, and most especially her son. Once he had found and taken care of Caitlyn Morgan, he'd get to the bottom of her mysterious absence.

  But first, Pete needed to carry out the first part of his plan. He stood on the sidewalk, trying to ignore the cold knot of dread in his stomach.

  On the flight north from Albuquerque, he'd come up with the perfect way to follow the letter of Bertrand's orders while undermining the spirit.

  It involved major self-sabotage and probably a prison sentence if he was caught, but he was looking forward to taking the stand at his trial and explaining how Philippe Bertrand had not only ordered Rich Montoya's killing but Caitlyn Morgan's too.

  If Pete was going down, he was going to make damned sure to drag Bertrand down with him.

  He had decided his first stop needed to be the Bearpaw Ridge Police Department, which was located behind an old storefront at one end of Main Street.

  But he also knew that once he went inside and made his request, he would pass the point of no return as far as his life went.

  Damn you, Bertrand.

  Pete squared his shoulders, opened the door, and strolled in.

  From his research, he knew that the Bearpaw Ridge PD was a real rinky-dink operation, consisting of a sheriff who served as Chief of Police, three deputy sheriffs, and an officer who served as the combined Community Service Officer/Animal Control Officer.

  As soon as he entered the building, he realized that the desk officer was wolf shifter.

  She came instantly alert. Pete saw her sniff the air, then look confused.

  Probably trying to figure out what kind of cat shifter I am, Pete thought with grim amusement.

  "Can I help you?" she asked in cool tones, eyeing him warily.

  Her name badge said M. Jacobsen. She was a lean woman in her thirties, with dark blonde hair pulled back from her face and gathered in a neat bun.

  He smiled, pouring on his southern charm. "Why, hello there, darlin'," he began.

  Her cool stare became positively frosty. Oops.

  Pete started over. "Good morning, Officer Jacobsen. I'm Sergeant Pete Langlais with the Albuquerque Police Department."

  He pulled out his badge and department ID card and handed them over to her, then watched her thaw when she realized he was a fellow cop.

  Because I'm one of the brotherhood, he thought grimly. For a while longer, at least.

  "How can I can help you today, Sergeant Langlais?" she asked in a considerably friendlier tone.

  Now I'm committed.

  He pulled out his mini-tablet and called up Caitlyn Morgan's photo.

  He showed it to her. "I'm interested in the whereabouts of this woman. Her name is Caitlyn Morgan, and she's a person of interest in the death of APD Sergeant Richard Montoya. I understand that she was involved in a vehicle accident in this area last Sunday."

  Before she could answer him, a tall, lean man with weathered features and a blond buzz cut emerged from the office. Pete noticed the resemblance between the sheriff and his deputy and concluded that they must be related, since they both had the same last name.

  Pete looked at the newcomer's uniform and badge. "Sheriff Jacobsen?" he asked.

  Another wolf shifter. Just fucking great.

  The other man nodded. "I'm Bill Jacobsen. I couldn't help but overhear that you're asking about Caitlyn Morgan. May I ask why?"

  He surveyed Pete with a carefully neutral expression.

  "Sergeant Pete Langlais, Albuquerque PD. Pleased to meet you," Pete said smoothly, extending his hand while silently cursing Philippe Bertrand.

  Sheriff Jacobsen took it and gave a firm shake. Unlike his deputy, he didn't betray any surprise at discovering that Pete was a shifter too.

  "Sheriff, you're actually the reason I'm here," Pete continued. "Caitlyn Morgan disappeared from Albuquerque last week, and your accident report finally alerted me to her possible whereabouts."

  Jacobsen's blond brows rose. "You're here on official APD business? I didn't get any notification about that." He looked at the deputy sheriff on desk officer duty. "Mary? You hear anything?"

  She shook her head. "Nope."

  Pete shook his head. "Not…official." He couldn't lie about something so easily verifiable. He paused for effect, then said, "My partner, APD Sergeant Rich Montoya, was killed under mysterious circumstances last week. And I think Caitlyn Morgan may have some information vital to the investigation into his death."

  Just as he'd hoped, the revelation that Montoya had been his partner softened up Jacobsen.

  "I read about Sergeant Montoya's death on the PoliceOne site," Jacobsen said, his expression sympathetic. "Ms. Morgan is currently a guest at the Grizzly Creek Ranch, about twenty minutes outside town, if you want to talk to her."

  "Thank you," said Pete, surprised and relieved that his inquiry had been so successful. "I'll get right on it. Appreciate the help."
<
br />   Whew. Gotta love friendly cops in small towns.

  * * *

  Thanks to the sheriff's directions, Pete found the Grizzly Creek Ranch without too much trouble.

  He left his car parked in one of the numerous riverside fishing/boating lots and walked a mile or two alongside the highway until he reached the ranch's gate. From there, he strode up the long unpaved driveway to where a cluster of houses stood in a meadow surrounded by rolling hills.

  There, he found he was in luck. It was midafternoon, and despite the strong, musky reek of bear shifters, no one seemed to be around except for a single female Ordinary inside one of the houses.

  Holy shit. I might just be able to pull this off.

  And then he'd be heading straight home to find out why his mother wasn't answering her damn phone.

  Pete crept cautiously to a small orchard located near the biggest house, a two-story Victorian painted a cheerful yellow with white trim. There, he stripped down in preparation for shifting into cat form.

  It would be easier to kill Caitlyn Morgan with a gun, but he had left his weapons behind at home to smooth his airline travel.

  Besides, it had been a long time since he'd let out his cat to hunt. Since my life is about to be completely fucked, thanks to Bertrand, why not have one last bit of fun?

  As always, shifting really fucking hurt, and in the aftermath, he lay panting on the cold ground beneath the bare-branched trees, shaky and nearly blind with pain.

  That was the downside of belonging to such an ancient lineage—the modern shifter lineages were able to shift nearly painlessly, and they needed hardly any recovery time.

  Speaking of modern shifters, he needed to get a move on before the bears who lived here came home.

  Pete rose to his paws, swaying, and shook his head to clear his vision. Then, keeping low and using every available shrub and fence for cover, he crept over to the house where he had scented his prey.

  He crouched amidst the long brown stalks of last summer's grass and took advantage of the large windows in the back of the house to watch her move around the kitchen. His lion wanted to finish the hunt immediately and tear into the plump, juicy-looking woman.

  His human half was wondering why the hell she was staying here, in what appeared to be bear shifter central.