Bear Necessities (Bad Boy Alphas): A Post-Apocalyptic Bear Shifter Romance

by Selena Kitt

  “Easy.” One minute he was leaning against the door frame, the next, he was beside her, one big hand gripping her elbow to keep her upright, the other going around her waist. “I got you.”

  “Let me go,” she gasped, but she knew it was useless now. She couldn’t walk. Her ankle was screaming in pain and she felt tears sting her eyes as the man eased her back inside and closed the door again.

  That’s when she remembered the bear. Was it still out there, sniffing around at the edge of the clearing? The danger lurking out there in the growing shadows was beginning to pale in comparison to the one in here.

  “You’re hurt.” His voice was kind, even concerned, but Ivy still tried to pull away. Her ankle howled in protest, making her bite her lip to keep from howling, too.

  “Hey!” She cried out when he sighed and picked her up, carrying her, rifle, backpack and all. “Put me down!”

  “I am.” He lowered her carefully onto the mattress while Ivy struggled to push him away. It was like trying to move a mountain—one made of flesh and bone. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you, remember?”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?” she scoffed, pushing at his big, beefy hands as they inspected her injured leg. “How do I know you’re not going to rape me? Or—or eat me?”

  “If I wanted to do either, you’d be naked already.” The man’s words made Ivy flush with heat. His hands moved swiftly down her shin and calf as he knelt beside the mattress. She whimpered when he squeezed her ankle. It was singing with pain now. A high-pitched operatic aria. “I’m Caleb, by the way. How did you twist your ankle?”

  “Running from a bear,” she confessed, yelping when Caleb eased her shoe off her foot. He seemed less intimidating, now that he had a name—not that she was going to give him hers or anything. Besides, she knew he was right. If he wanted to hurt her—in any way—he could have done it already a hundred times over. “I was picking strawberries. So was he. We kind of ran into each other.”

  “Why didn’t you shoot it?” the big man asked, peeling her sock down gently, revealing the swollen side of her foot. It was already bruised, turning the same pink and purple as the sky outside.

  “I didn’t get a chance,” she lied, biting her lip as Caleb pushed and prodded and pulled at her foot, testing it, she knew, to see if it was broken. That didn’t make it any less painful. “Owwww! Ow ow ow! Fuck nuggets! Would you quit?”

  “Sorry,” he apologized, grinning as he eased her sock back up. “You’re lucky, it’s just sprained—but it’s a bad one. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

  “Oh, yes, I am.” She reached for her shoe, scowling at him. “I have to. Nikon’s waiting for me at home.”

  “Nikon?” He lifted one eyebrow.

  “My dog,” she panted, trying to pull her shoe back on. It was an exercise in Twister torture. She gave up with a sigh. “I can’t leave him all night.”

  “You may have to.” Caleb frowned at the fading light coming in from the broken window. “It’s getting dark—and you wouldn’t make it twenty feet on that ankle.”

  “What are you proposing?” She blinked at him. “That I stay here? I don’t think so.”

  “How far away is home?” He cocked his head at her.

  The thought of telling this man where she lived made her belly clench with fear. He seemed to understand her predicament as he stood and went to the window to peer out. She made another attempt at putting her shoe on, but it was like trying to stuff biscuit dough back into a busted container. Her ankle was fat and purple and she wasn’t so sure it wasn’t broken.

  And the thought of biscuit dough made her stomach growl—loudly.

  “I’ll take you back.” The man sighed, turning back toward her, his big arms crossed over his broad chest.

  “I’ll be fine,” Ivy insisted.

  She’d managed to wedge her foot back into her shoe—just barely, and not without biting back a few screams—but when she tried to get up, she completely failed. And it wasn’t just a little failure either—it was a colossal fail that involved a loud, unavoidable howl on her part as she collapsed back onto the mattress beside her rifle. She tried hard not to cry at the searing pain shooting up her leg, wondering what in the hell she was going to do.

  “If you want me to take you, we should get going.” His voice brought Ivy’s head up and she tucked her hair behind her ears, contemplating her limited options, still trying not to cry. “Storm’s rolling in.”

  “Of course it is,” she murmured, blinking back hot tears. “Cherry on the cake of my day.”

  “Don’t you mean strawberry?” The teasing note in his voice brought a little smile to her lips.

  “Don’t remind me.” She groaned, rolling over on the mattress in another attempt at rising. “That damned bear cost me jars and jars of strawberry jam. Not to mention the shortcake I was planning.”

  “Shortcake?” Caleb was at her elbow, helping her to her feet. Well, foot. She still couldn’t put weight on the injured one. And her back pack made her even more imbalanced.

  “I make a mean apocalypse shortcake, I’ll have you know,” she informed him, reaching out to the bureau so he wouldn’t have to keep holding onto her. She teetered but stayed upright as she shook him loose. Caleb took a step back, cocking his head and shaking it with a little sigh, letting her negotiate on one foot.

  She didn’t like how close he was standing. His presence making her skin prickle. Ivy began to protest when Caleb reached toward her, but then he opened the top bureau drawer, pulling out a shirt, and she closed her mouth with an audible snap.

  The big man slid his arms into the shirt sleeves while Ivy stood, balancing on one foot, watching him with wary eyes. He moved back, buttoning the buttons from top to bottom, his gaze never leaving her. The way he looked at her made her feel very exposed and vulnerable—and she supposed she was. That made her remember the rifle she’d left on the mattress and she glanced at it, knowing it wasn’t going to protect her from the predicament she now found herself in.

  “All right, shortcake.” Caleb reached down to retrieve her rifle. Again, she opened her mouth to protest, but he handed it over to her without hesitation. Ivy took it, slinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

  “No, wait…” Ivy shook her head, shrinking against the bureau as Caleb took a step toward her.

  “Don’t you want to go home?”

  Of course she did. She wanted to be home, curled up with Nikon snoring at the foot of the bed, keeping her feet warm, while she read her dog-eared copy of Lord of the Rings for the millionth time. Even the sweet, distant thought of strawberry shortcake had been obliterated by her run-in with the bear, and now this big, bearded stranger.

  “The way I see it, you have two options.” The man ticked them off on his fingers. “You can stay here overnight with me.”

  Ivy was already shaking her head vehemently at that.

  “Or you can let me take you back to wherever you left your dog.”

  The thought of Nikon locked up all night with no real concept of time, every moment feeling like forever, wondering where in the world she’d gone, made up her mind. She’d been reluctant to leave him in the first place, and she was sorry now that she had.

  “I have to get home,” she insisted, sighing at the sound of thunder. The storm was getting closer. “But you’re right, there’s no way I can walk. Do you… maybe have a small vehicle I could borrow? An ATV? Even a little lawnmower or golf cart…?”

  “Afraid not.” The man chuckled. “You’ll have to tolerate something a little more man-powered.”

  “What are you—” Ivy let out a little cry as he moved toward her again, reaching to scoop her up, and she would have fallen again if he hadn’t caught her. “Doing?”

  “I’m obviously going to have to carry you,” he explained, a steadying arm around her shoulders.

  “Oh no… no way,” she protested, feeling a flush flooding her cheeks as she tried to twist away, but that wasn’t easy on
one foot. Her mobility was considerably limited. “Besides, I’m too heavy. You can’t…”

  “Are you kidding me?” The stranger laughed, a sudden, booming sound, like thunder, putting an arm under her knees and lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Ivy felt all the air whoosh from her lungs and she put her arms around his neck just to stabilize herself—that’s what she told herself as he looked down at her, now suddenly, incredibly close. She could see flecks of gold in his blue eyes, the way the hair of his beard curled toward the full curve of his mouth. The press of his body was both hard and warm, and his arms didn’t seem to be straining under her weight.

  “It’s a long way,” she told him, squinting at the broken window. “A mile at least. Do you have a wagon? Or we could make a litter out of something. You can’t possibly carry me the whole—”

  “You’re not heavy,” he assured her, a fact Ivy knew was impossible and completely untrue. She’d started the apocalypse with plenty of extra padding, and given her father’s forethought and food stores and her penchant for baking, she’d maintained most of it. “Although the butt of that damned rifle’s digging into my side. You can get on my back instead, if you want.”

  She blinked at him and bit her lip. Climb on this man’s back? Was he serious?

  “This isn’t going to work,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Maybe I should just—”

  Ivy gasped when he lifted her easily, maneuvering so she was sitting on top of the bureau. They were face-to-face now, eye-to-eye. He smiled at her again, but she wasn’t reassured by it.

  “I’m going to turn around,” he told her, explaining slowly. “And you’re going to get on my back. Okay?”

  “This is so not okay,” she said, scowling. “In no way, on any planet in the solar system, is this okay.”

  “What would you propose, then?” he asked, hands on either side of her on the dresser. “Unless you can sprout wings and fly home, I think we’ve narrowed the options to this.”

  “Oh fine.” She grumbled, trying to reach her back pack. “We’re going to need a flash light anyway. It’ll be dark soon.”

  “Which pocket?” he asked, reaching toward her backpack.

  “Left side,” she said, turning to watch him unzip the side pocket. She had a small flashlight in there. He handed it over, zipping the pocket again as she tested it, grateful the batteries were still working.

  “You ready?” he asked, cocking his head at her.

  “Whenever you are.” She sighed as he turned around, reaching back with both hands over his shoulders.

  “Hop on,” he said, taking her hands as she hesitantly offered them. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  “This is crazy.” Ivy adjusted the rifle over her shoulder, squeezing his sides between her thighs. It was like straddling a rock. He was that solid. “There’s no way you can carry—”

  Caleb snorted another laugh, hefting her onto his back in one smooth movement, hooking his forearms around her thighs as he headed down the hall toward the front door. It was strange, being carried like a six-year-old, and Ivy marveled at how easily he managed it. Her injured ankle throbbed with every movement and she knew she never would have made it home on her own.

  “Hey, we need to watch out for the bear,” she told him, her gaze moving in the direction of the forest, and home, where the sky was ominously dark with storm clouds. “He may still be out here.”

  “You’ve got the rifle, shortcake,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “You watch for the bear. Which way?”

  She directed him with the beam of her flashlight into the forest, where it was even darker, just as the rain began to come down.

  Chapter 4—Caleb

  Her scent was intoxicating.

  The woman on his back made Caleb’s nostrils flare and his mouth water.

  “How do I know you’re not going to rape me—or eat me?”

  That’s what she’d asked him, and he remembered making some off-the-cuff comment to placate her, because he didn’t want her to have any idea how much self-control it took to keep him from taking exactly what he wanted from her. He knew she was frightened—and he couldn’t blame her. A woman, alone, out here in the middle of the woods? It was a dangerous recipe for disaster.

  She acted like she could take care of herself, and maybe she could. She’d brought a rifle with her, after all, and when she’d been faced with a full-grown bear, she’d managed to raise it.

  But she hadn’t shot him, had she?

  Because she felt it, too.

  He pondered this as he made his way through the woods, the weight of the woman on his back like a blanket of heat. She wiggled and squirmed, her soft, supple thighs squeezing his sides, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Her breath was warm, driving away the cold pelt of the rain, and the soft press of her breasts made his groin ache and throb. She was the weight of distraction.

  Sweet, damnable distraction.

  Had she really felt it, too? He wondered. When he’d risen up on his hind legs, scenting her—she was far sweeter than the strawberries he’d been eating, and more luscious. The sight of her through his bear’s eyes was like pure fire. She glowed in the late afternoon light, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall, her mouth stained red from berries, full and open and surprised to see him.

  He’d almost forgotten, in that moment, what form he was in. He’d even begun to speak, which just came as a low growl, reminding him that he was a bear. He couldn’t shift in front of her—that would frighten her even more than the six-hundred-and-fifty pound mass of muscle and fur rising up on its hind legs in front of her. He hadn’t been thinking, though. Thought was the last thing from his mind in that moment.

  He’d been consumed, from the moment the wind shifted and he first caught her scent, with having her. The lush curve of her hips in those jeans, the way her breasts rose and fell, faster and faster under that white t-shirt now stained red with berry juice as she struggled to unsling her rifle. He hadn’t even registered the danger she posed—a human with a gun—until she pointed the barrel at him.

  But she hadn’t pulled the trigger, had she?

  He’d felt a momentary flash of anger—how dare she raise a gun at him? His instinct was to charge her, bat the gun out of her hands. But that feeling had come and gone in an instant. He saw the fear on her face—but he also saw her curiosity and her confusion as she hesitated, her dark eyes searching his. She was looking for something, he thought. She sensed something in him. Had he really seen recognition in her eyes?

  It was impossible—but he felt the truth of it tightening his chest as she faced him. And when she spoke her soft, sweet apology, presumably before she pulled the trigger to end him, he could almost feel the pain and loss radiating from her. She might have ended his long search in that moment, and he wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t have been a relief. He was tired of traveling, of hiding and always being on-guard.

  But in the end, she hadn’t shot him.

  Instead, she’d turned tail and run.

  And he had pursued her.

  He hadn’t even understood it himself—had never found his own instincts beyond his control before. The woman had lit a fire in him, and the moment she took off, he found himself helpless to stop the chase. He knew he was frightening her in his bear form, although he wasn’t so sure he would frighten her any less in human form. He saw her glance back, saw the moment she twisted her ankle, and her cry of pain pierced through him like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

  When he’d explored her calf and shin with his hands, searching for anything broken, he cursed himself for chasing her, for causing her any pain. She had put on a brave face, trying valiantly to walk through her injury, but she was holding back tears. What a fool he’d been, giving in to that sudden urge to give chase.

  What had come over him?

  “Right there!” She spoke loudly over the storm, but her lips were right next to his ear, the sound of her voice bright, searing th
rough him. He stopped at the edge of the forest, her flashlight pointing the way through the clearing. A small house stood in the distance, the light in one window like a yellow painted square on the night. The yard was a gardener’s paradise in the moonlight, raised boxes clearly cultivated with love and care.

  “I didn’t leave any lights on to conserve power from the generator, but… oh… wait… what?” The woman peeked over his shoulder and he felt her thighs tighten around him. “I know I didn’t leave a light on… I…”