Bartholomew (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 5)

by Becca Fanning

  Marcus had exploded on the other shifters for their defiance, but they hardly acknowledged him. He'd screamed about the good of the pack, how important it was to maintain order, but it had all fallen on deaf ears. His orders had gotten Track killed and would have gotten Beth killed as well, if the others didn't intervene. He seemed to understand that, though he wouldn't admit it. His position as second command in the clan wouldn't let him.

  So Beth sat in silence for nearly an hour while the rest of the shifters sat behind closed doors and deliberated back at their HQ. There had been older shifters with bone white hair, shifters with skin so mangled she wondered how they had even survived what had given them those scars, and even a couple of young shifters that were even younger than Derrick that had filed into the meeting.

  There had been a couple of other women in the building when they had first arrived. One of the women had gone up to Jace the second he came in the door, hugging and kissing him. For once, she saw him chatting up a storm, though she couldn't hear what they had to say. After that, she'd introduced herself as Emma, and had explained how everything really worked between these shifters.

  She had explained that she was also a client being protected. She was a police officer, betrayed by members of her own squad and framed for a murder she didn't commit. Other members of her unit wanted her dead, so she'd reached out to the shifter's security firm. If you could pay, they took you under their protection, she said. Jace had been assigned to protect her.

  She had also said that they followed a strict code of honor. They held order and the chain of command in the highest regard. Any of the shifters who disobeyed their commander could be exiled, or worse, killed. Together, they had shared a couple of drinks at the bar, but Emma had retired to her room shortly after Beth had arrived.

  Unsure of if she even had a room, Beth waited patiently. She'd tried to wipe the blood off of her as best she could, but she still felt disgusting. She considered slipping out the door and leaving the shifters, the violence, and Clive behind and moving on with her life. She hesitated. She didn't like the danger, but she found she liked Clive. Maybe it's even love, she thought, blushing. Was it enough? Would that be enough to make them last?

  She got up, finally mustering the courage to leave, when the meeting room door opened. The first out the door was Clive, who came straight towards her. He winced slightly, still healing from the damage he'd taken in the fight earlier. His long, dark hair was disheveled, but he still stole Beth's breath away when he smiled at her.

  “We're not being punished,” he said quietly. “But everything isn't good. Cain’s going to be devastated.”

  “Who’s Cain?”

  “Track’s best friend. You haven’t met him: he’s on assignment. Come with me so we can talk about it in private.”

  Without waiting, Clive grabbed her hand and lead her down a hallway and into his room. He flicked the light on and Beth was greeted by a small, compact room. A bed lay in the corner opposite a TV and desk. There wasn't much else in the room. On one wall was an open door that she saw lead to a bathroom.

  He started in immediately, “We're split. Joe, Marcus, and all of the elders think we did wrong by disobeying their orders. A couple of the elders want us exiled. Joe talked them down, though. He knows that we made the right choice in disobeying him to save you and take out Hudson, though he wasn't happy about it. There's some serious tension going on. I think that I –“

  “Clive,” Beth said softly, cutting him off. “I was on my way out when you caught me at the door.”

  “What? Why would you leave?”

  “I'm not right for you. You don't need to protect me anymore. You can protect someone else. Don't let me get in your way.”

  In response, Clive came close to her, grabbing her and pressing his lips firmly against hers. Beth found herself immediately kissing back, passion overwhelming everything she'd been thinking. She knew in her heart she didn't want to leave.

  “You're perfect for me. You've shown me that life is worth living. That there's more to life than working for this club. I need you more than you ever needed me, Beth.”

  Clive swept her off of her feet, taking her into the bathroom and kicking the door closed. Within seconds, Clive had the shower on full blast, hot steam filling the room. He peeled his shirt off of his body, wincing, but the smile never left his face. Beth leaned back on the sink, beckoning, and Clive moved in, ripping her shirt off of her body. He pressed his lips against her neck, nostrils flaring at her scent.

  He undid her bra with deft fingers, letting it fall onto the floor. His large hands cupped each of her breasts, his fingers rolling over her nipples lightly. With a moan, Beth felt her nipples stiffening under his touch. He reached down, sliding a hand into her pants, touching her wetness lightly. Beth gasped, body shuddering in pleasure.

  Together, they stripped their pants off, lips interlocked. Beth reached down between Clive's legs, grabbing onto his stiffening member while his grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. Together, they moved backwards into the shower, the hot spray of water washing the dirt, blood, and grime from their tired and weary bodies.

  Clive's lips wandered down her neck, over his chest, focusing on one breast, sucking gently before dropping to his knees. Beth leaned against the shower wall, feeling Clive's lips and tongue working down her body. His tongue danced around her navel, then moved directly above her wetness before kissing the inside of each thigh. Beth moaned, ready for his mouth to move directly between her legs.

  She grabbed his thick hair, guiding him exactly where she wanted him to go. His lips worked slowly at first, sucking and kissing, his tongue darting over every inch of her. Within minutes of bliss, pleasure was overwhelming her body. She grabbed his hair tighter, making sure that he wouldn't stop. Her pleasure built until she could contain it no longer, and then she was cumming, screaming in pleasure, everything over the last few days finally melting away.

  Gasping, she leaned against the shower wall, her body wracked with pleasure. Clive stood up and came close to her, kissing her, pressing his body against her own. She felt his thickness and lifted one leg, lowering herself down onto him. With a gasp of pleasure from her and a moan from Clive, he entered her warmth. He went slow at first, letting her adjust to him, then together, they moved into a rhythm.

  The warm water washed over their bodies and they became as one. Beth rocked her body against his as he pushed, and soon, the pleasure was at its peak for both of them. Beth pushed it off for as long as she could, but it was too much. It hit her, hard, and she bit into Clive's shoulder as she came. She felt his member throbbing inside of her, filling her up with his seed. He let out a bestial roar of pleasure as he came.

  Together, they collapsed onto the floor of the shower. Clive's large arms wrapped completely around Beth's body. For once, she realized, she felt safe. Protected. Clive would never let harm befall her. She snuggled up against his large body and let the warm water wash all of her worries away.

  Road Bears

  Grit and Growl Book I

  by

  Becca Fanning

  Carrie was screwed. It was her first night on the job and she had no idea what she was doing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t gone through the training. She even took notes! But something about moving through a training scenario and actually dealing with customers and their orders and the rush and loud music just made her feel frazzled.

  A week ago she had applied as a waitress at a dive-y bar. She had no previous waitressing experience, and the woman who took her application looked at her resume dubiously.

  “I, uh, don’t have a whole lot of experience.” Carrie, who was usually the epitome of cool, calm and collected, felt ill. Her stomach rolled as the tattooed woman looked down the list of jobs.

  “I can see that.” The woman’s voice was rough, like she was a big smoker.

  “I do have a lot of customer service experience though!” She tried to sound positive. Carrie had been working a fantastic admi
nistrative assistant job for the last three years. They hired her when she was fresh out of college and she loved the company. It was a start-up that worked to promote literacy in low income areas. She got to talk to publishers to convince them to donate books, she convinced authors to donate time to go to schools and read to kids, and she helped organize tutoring programs.

  It was a dream come true for an education major with a desire to change the world. And then it ended. Three weeks ago all of the major investors backed out and Carrie was left jobless. She needed to pay rent. So there she was. Applying for a job at what was basically a biker bar.

  The woman pursed her lips. “Yes, you do.” She put the paper on the bar top and Carrie could see her long, talon-like finger nails. They were painted bright red. “Here’s the truth, darlin’: I need a waitress immediately, and you’re the only person who has applied. So I’ll take you on only if you promise to take your training really seriously.”

  Carrie nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this!”

  In retrospect, perhaps she shouldn’t have said that. She must have jinxed herself.

  From almost the moment her shift started people kept walking in. And Jeanette, the woman who had hired her, wasn’t lying. The bar really was understaffed. Jeanette was at the bar, and an enormous man named Tiny was the line cook. Carrie was the only waitress. She hadn’t had a minute to catch her breath during her whole shift. She was only three hours in and her feet were aching, her back hurt, and her cheeks were sore from all the smiling she was doing.

  She loved being busy but this was a whole new type of busy. The bar was large, probably the biggest one she’d ever been in. There was the bar counter top at the far end of the room, away from the door. Between the door and the counter, there were at least two dozen tables. There was a jukebox that was constantly playing loud music, and there were televisions turned to sports channels, and pool tables.

  She heard the door open and a blast of noise met her. A group of bikers had just walked into the bar. There were quite a few of them, and they were all huge. One of them waved her over and she pulled out her little pad. It was hard to hear over the blasting music, and she couldn’t even read his lips very well because the lighting was so bad. But the order was simple enough: a bunch of beers.

  Carrie smiled and headed over to the bar to fill the glasses. She piled five glasses onto a tray and carefully balanced the tray on her hand. She started across the bar, hell bent on making the trip across the large room without spilling a drop.

  Her arm was aching with the weight of the drinks, but she was halfway there.

  “Carrie!” Jeanette called her name. Carrie slowly turned around to look at her boss. Jeanette pointed to the food sitting on the bar. Another order was up. Carrie nodded to show that she understood, and turned around, ready to head back to the bikers.

  “Brian! Watch out—“

  Carrie barely had time to take in the frantic warning before she suddenly slammed into the broadest chest she had ever encountered in her life. Her tray went flying and her ass connected to the hard, sticky floor.

  “Shit!” The expletive ripped from her lips before she could stop it.

  The sound of glass shattering and liquid sloshing caused the bar to go silent. Carrie slowly opened her eyes and surveyed the damage surrounding her. Broken glass was everywhere, and her legs were soaked with beer. And one of the bikers was on the floor too. His chest and jacket were soaked with liquid.

  Carrie felt tears fill her eyes. She was going to lose her job. On the very first day too. Her heart sank. How was she going to find a new job on such short notice? The idea of asking her estranged parents for money for rent made her cringe.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” His voice was somehow both gravely and soft, gruff but concerned.

  She blinked up at him through tears and nodded, even though okay was the absolute last thing she was. She was going to be fired. Her body was tense, waiting for him to berate her for crashing into him…but he didn’t. He stood up and reached down to her. She was still for a moment. “Take my hand,” he said. “I’ll help you up.” She took his hand. It was incredibly warm.

  He was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. He must have been at least six a few inches over six feet, and it looked like every inch of him was covered in muscles. It didn’t look like he worked out a lot though; it seemed more like he had a very physical job. He was wearing a flannel shirt, and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Almost every inch of his forearms were covered in tattoos. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were a shade of gold she had never seen before.

  She realized she was staring and was still holding on to his hand. She blushed and quickly let go, immediately missing the warmth of his large hand.

  Jeanette appeared next to them. “Damnit Carrie! This is exactly the sort of thing I didn’t want happening! Clean this mess up.”

  Carrie bit back her tears and began to bend to pick up some of the larger pieces of glass. She was upset but she needed to handle things. “Don’t be sore at the new girl, Annie. It was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “Bri—“

  The man interrupted Jeanette. “Let the guys clean this up. Your new girl is bleeding, and she needs to get cleaned off.”

  Bleeding? Carrie looked down at her leg. She was indeed bleeding. One of the broken glasses must have cut up her leg when she fell.

  “Shit,” Jeanette drew the word out. “Go get cleaned up. Both of you,” she growled.

  The biker, whose name was apparently Brian, turned to the other four men that he was with. “Aiden, Will, Brett, Tyler, some help please!” Four men peeled away from the larger group.

  “You’re always getting yourself into trouble, Bri,” one of them said. He was blonde and Carrie thought he was almost as good looking as Brian, but not quite.

  “This is the smallest mess you’ve ever had to clean up, Will. Stop complaining.” Brian took the cloths from Jeanette and tossed them at his friends. “Get to work. I have to help a damsel in distress.” Brian turned to wink at Carrie.

  “You put her in distress,” one of the other men grumbled.

  “And now I’m fixing it, like a polite gentleman.” Brian turned to Carrie. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Carrie.”

  “Let’s get that cut cleaned up.” She was about to protest, she could clean up the mess and deal with her leg by herself, but Brian’s hand went to the middle of her back and he began to steer her to the bar. He led her to the bar’s small, single person bathroom and turned on the water. He pulled his motorcycle cut off and let it sit at the edge of the sink. He pushed the toilet seat down.

  “Let up, darlin’. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

  “It’s really okay, I can deal with it. Go back to your friends; I’ve ruined your evening enough.”

  “You ruined my evening? It’s the other way around. Let me handle this as a way to make it up to you.”

  Carrie put her foot up on the lid of the toilet and Brian crouched slightly to examine the cut. In the confines of the small bathroom, Carrie realized how truly big Brian was. Carrie wasn’t a tiny girl; she was a bit over average height for a girl, so it took a lot to make her feel truly dainty. Brian managed to do that with his very presence. He stood up and grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser, wet them, and began to rub the beer and blood off her leg.

  His actions were surprisingly tender. He wasn’t the sort of burly guy who never knew where his limbs were. His movements seemed effortlessly controlled. He tossed the soiled paper into the trash. “How’s it look, doc?” Carrie asked.

  “It’s not too bad.” Carrie snuck a peak at her calf. The cut was long, but didn’t look too deep. He opened the small cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small box of bandages and some rubbing alcohol. She winced when he applied some of the alcohol to the cut. “Don’t want you to get an infection,” he said symp
athetically.

  “It seems like you’ve done this before.” It did. Carrie would have thought he was a doctor since he was handling her cut with such a blasé, no nonsense demeanor.

  “I’ve patched up some road rash in my time. So a little cut isn’t too big of a deal.” He put the Band-Aid on her and smiled. “You’re good to go.”

  Carrie looked down at her leg. He used two large bandages to cover the cut. “Thank you. Let me buy you a drink or something to make up for spilling yours.” Carrie surprised herself. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but she was never one to so forwardly ask a guy out. But something about Brian was…magnetizing.

  He laughed, and it felt like velvet against her skin. “I should be the one buying you a drink.” She opened her mouth to protest but he continued. “What time do you get off tonight?”

  “Not until closing time.”

  He began to wipe the leather cut off. She hoped the beer hadn’t damaged it. “Well, I’ll see if I can convince Jeanette to let you off for a little bit when things slow down.”

  Carrie smiled. “Good luck with that.”

  “Annie has a sweet spot for me. She’ll be fine with it.”

  “If you say so.” There was a moment of silence. “I should get back to work.”

  “I’ll finish cleaning up and then come find you. Alright, darling’?”