by Celia Kyle
Can’t Bear It
Strange Hollow Celia Kyle
Published 2010
ISBN 978-1-59578-666-1
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2010, Celia Kyle . All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://lsbooks.com
Email:
[email protected]
Editor
Chrissie Henderson
Cover Artist
April Martinez
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
Meg is a lioness on the run. After being used and semi-abused by her pride for more years than she cares to count, she's leaving the pride life behind and heading to Strange Hollow. A new life, a new home, awaits her there and she can't wait to begin anew and settle down to make little lions of her own. Only, the one man who qualifies for the job also has a tiny little problem. He's a man-slut.
Jacob loves his slutastic behavior and wouldn't have it any other way. Men, women, either, both, they all do it for him. Until he meets a certain curvaceous lioness who changes the rules and makes his bear want something he's never wanted... a mate.
Chapter One
Sex had become a chore. Maybe not a chore, but it wasn’t something Meg looked forward to either. She had her choice of males, three to be exact, though the eldest of the lions was able to overrule her if he desired. And then there was the fact that the three men she could choose from also serviced her sisters. And cousins. And aunts. Oh, there were a couple of women in the pride who’d migrated from other groups as part of a “lioness exchange” in order to ensure there was no in-breeding. But the fact remained. The dick that entered her had probably been inside one of her family members. Recently.
Ick. Ew. Gross.
“Margaret!” Great. Her Aunt Nia. “Margaret! It’s your turn, dear heart.”
Meg sighed and brought her legs closer to her chest and rested her forearms on her knees, her chin then settling on her forearms. She stared across the street, watching the pigeons flutter and fly around the fountain, pecking at the seeds dropped by the old man who lived down the street. How she envied the birds. Their monogamous nature meant that they’d only mate with each other as long as they lived. She longed for the same treatment, regardless of how odd it made her.
Pride ladies did not object to sharing. They bore the children they were gifted with gladly, and then surrendered them to another pride or they joined the ranks. A lioness definitely didn’t look outside the pride for sex. Ever. A lioness gave birth to lion cubs. Period. End of story.
Her feelings didn’t matter. They never mattered.
“Margare--Oh! There you are.”
Meg tore her thoughts away from her heart’s desire and plastered a smile on her face before turning her attention to Nia. “Hey, Aunt Nia.”
Her aunt harrumphed. “I’ve been calling for you, Miss Margaret. It’s your day and Lincoln has a mid-afternoon meeting. Marcus has a dinner date with some woman he’s thinking of bringing into the pride, and Nicholas wants to do his morning run. They’d like you to come in and make your choice so they can get on with their day.”
Her choice. Right. She held back her snort of contempt. Barely. Out of the three of them, Meg preferred Nicky, but she knew he wasn’t attracted to her plus-sized frame. “Lincoln please.”
He’d be a wham, bam, please don’t get your juices on my Armani man. She could always count on him to be no-nonsense about the mating. It was a job to him, just like running Lion Inc, the pride’s investment firm. Hell, one time he hadn’t even ended his phone call and had just taken her across his desk without breaking his concentration on the call or sounding out of breath. That took talent ... and indifference.
Tears burned Meg’s eyes and she blinked them away. No sense in wallowing in her sorrow. She’d done enough of that since waking.
Her aunt stroked her head, her fingers sifting through her hair just as her mother had done before leaving her for another pride. “Oh, Margaret, I know this is hard on you, but the men work hard to care for us all. It’s for the good of the pride. And your gift will only strengthen us.”
Her gift? How about her ra--No, it wasn’t like that. She went almost willingly. Almost. “I know, Aunt Nia, I know. Let Linc know that I’ll be in shortly and we can dispense with the mating. He should make his meeting without a problem.”
Her aunt patted the top of her head like a person would pet their loyal dog. Good girl, Megsy. Who’s a good girl? That’s right, Megsy’s a good girl. Then they’d toss a Frisbee and she’d trot off after the toy. Just like a good, obedient little puppy. Or lioness. Do as you’re told, Margaret. For the good of the pride, Margaret. Your will is secondary to that of the pride.
“Good girl.”
Meg pulled away from her aunt’s touch and returned her chin to her forearms.
Her aunt cleared her throat. “I know this is hard...”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll do my duty.”
“Very well, then. I’ll go let the men know of your choice.”
Meg listened to her aunt’s feet padding across the dried leaves and twigs, the dead foliage cracking and creaking with her every step. Deep down, Meg’s lioness stirred.
Hunt game? it wondered.
No. It’s Nia. We’ll have Lincoln to contend with shortly.
Her lioness growled and snarled.
Yeah, she felt the same way. Regardless of how impersonal she wanted these encounters to be, she truly longed for the love that was supposed to accompany coupling. As cliché as it sounded, she wanted her one true love to actually make love with her. Daily, hourly ... forever.
Meg rolled to her feet and followed in her aunt’s footsteps. Except, regardless of her larger size, she navigated the yard on silent feet. Something no one in her pride was able to do. Quiet as a mouse wasn’t just a saying for Meg, it was life. Like a true lion, she could creep and crawl and not make a sound.
She walked to the front door, her head held high. Just because she wasn’t looking forward to the next few minutes didn’t mean she had to be as meek as a mouse. She was a lioness of the Atlanta pride.
Lincoln was waiting for her. “Margaret. I’ve been waiting.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s get this finished, shall we? The office called and they want to move up the meeting.” His phone rang. “Hello?” He held out his arm, gesturing for her to precede him.
She didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. Tears stung her eyes, gathering on her lower lashes. Meg couldn’t blink them away this time, so she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and prayed that Linc was too involved with his call to notice. The moment she crossed the threshold of the mating room she unsnapped her jeans and lowered the zipper.
Linc remained engrossed in his phone call. “Yes, yes, I’ll be there. What’s the price on GM now? Uh huh.”
Meg wiggled her pants over her hips, tugging her panties down with the cotton material and dropping them to the ground. She stepped free of the jeans.
“Right.” Linc frowned at her and made a circling motion with his hand, encouraging her to turn around. “No, no. I don’t want any shares.”
Of course. She forgot. Linc preferred not to look at her as they fucked. Meg put her back to him and laid
her chest on the mattress, putting her ass at the perfect height for Linc.
A single finger slipped between her labia, rubbing up and down before disappearing. A moment later she heard the telltale click and squirt of the lube bottle and the finger returned, coated in cool lubricant. Of course she wasn’t wet. How could she be when she’d only settled on him moments ago?
The phone call continued, drowning out the sound of his zipper being lowered. “How’s Ford holding up?”
Meg crossed her arms and rested her head on them. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Lincoln, Armani pants undone, shirt jacket and tie still in place. With the exception of his partially flaccid cock hanging out, he looked ready to engage in a corporate takeover.
“Decreasing? Maybe we should scoop up a few... Uh huh.” Lincoln stroked his prick, and she watched as he encouraged it to hardness.
Great. It was that time.
Lincoln wasn’t bad looking, and had he actually tried when they were forced together, she imagined he could be a decent lover. He’d always been no-nonsense with her, though.
Meg re-settled her head and flattened her back, presenting her ass and pussy to the man behind her. Prepping herself made for a quicker “transaction.” She relaxed her muscles, getting ready for his invasion.
The head of his cock probed her entrance, slipping and sliding in the lube he’d liberally applied before he finally found her pussy. He pressed forward, his dick sliding into her slickened passage with relative ease. He didn’t even moan or grunt. “Oh, yeah, we should definitely invest in that project.”
Lincoln pumped his hips, shifting back and forth as he worked his cock in and out of her. In and out and in again, he drove his dick into her. She didn’t even pretend with him anymore. It wasn’t as if he faked love or even affection for her. Why should she?
“Shoot me the specs as soon as you’ve got them. I’d like to review the reports personally. Hold a moment, will you?”
A low beep reached her ears, and then Linc was gripping her hips, pumping faster and harder, increasing his speed with each passing moment. He grunted with each thrust, pounding into her from behind until he gasped, his cock embed in her pussy. Now he did seem to respond to her, his hips jerking. One, two, three last pumps and he groaned. She could feel his prick pulse within her, and she lay passive, waiting for him to finish.
Lincoln pulled free and snapped his fingers at her to get her attention. She turned her head just enough to see him motion to the bedside table. Baby wipes. Right. She pushed herself up enough to snag them from the nightstand and tugged two free. One for him and one for herself. She hated having spunk trailing down her thighs.
She handed one to him and he wiped himself clean before tucking his flaccid cock into his slacks and zipping up. From coming to zipping took less than a minute. He pressed a button on his phone and picked up the call where he’d left off.
“Sorry about that. Juggling my briefcase. Heading out the door now...” And he did exactly that, leaving her alone in the mating room.
She wiped her pussy once more and tugged her pants on. She didn’t bother zipping them. The men performed when they were expected to and never when they weren’t scheduled. So she basically lived in a house full of women. She padded down the hall and slipped into her bedroom, stripping as she made her way to the bathroom. A quick shower and she’d be free of his seed. Of his taint.
Then again, that wasn’t fair to paint Lincoln, or the other men, in such a poor light. They did as they were told and helped maintain the strength of the pride. Men were expected to make money and fuck. Women were meant to take it. At least, that’s how it was in their pride. And since Meg had never met another pride, she didn’t have anything to compare hers with.
The scalding hot water pounded her back, shoulders and ass. She drowned herself in the water, hoping the heat would purge her without and within. She hated these days. Twice a month she was expected to submit. Twice a month since she’d turned eighteen. For almost twelve years she’d unceremoniously copulated with one of the three men. Almost twelve years and she’d never become pregnant. No one said anything, though she was sure they suspected.
Meg finished her cleansing and dressed in her trademark jeans and T-shirt. The females were used to her disappearing after the mating and she didn’t disappoint them.
It was a ten minute walk to the drugstore down the street. Ten minutes up, ten minutes while she argued with herself, and ten minutes back. Thirty minutes total and the result was yet another month of being barren.
Regardless of the warnings and assurances from the drug makers, she wondered if she was truly having an abortion each and every month. Was that what the pill did? And why, after so long, did it still work for her when it was supposed to lose its potency with extended use?
The answer to those questions didn’t really matter, though. The point was that twice a month she swallowed a pill and her worries of pregnancy melted away.
As the ad said, If plan A failed, try Plan B. She popped the small, white pill.
Chapter Two
Jacob leaned against the wall, scanning the occupants of the Cauldron for his next conquest. Love ’em ... and then love ’em some more ... and then leave ’em. That was the motto he lived, and would someday die, by.
A curvaceous brunette, stacked two times over with breasts and ass, sidled up to him, and he bit back his smile. The two of them, they snarled and fought with each other all the time. He liked to think of it as sexual chemistry. She called it overall hatred and disgust. Tomato and tomatoh. But he got to play in her sandbox either way--regardless of her personal feelings.
The sweet scent of the forest surrounded him, drowning out the beer and cigarettes and sex. “Man-whore.”
Ooh. She was feisty tonight. “Jacey.”
She snarled and turned toward him, her shoulder leaning against the wall. “You know I hate that nickname.”
He took a drag on his cigarette, blowing out the jazzing smoke before he answered her. “Yeah, I do, but I like it.” He stared at her from the corner of his eye.
Sexy didn’t even begin to describe Jacinda, the town’s matriarch. She had long, wavy brown hair that wasn’t brown, but it was. It looked like it was almost a living thing, like her hair belonged in one of those shampoo commercials, swaying this way and that, shining. It was her eyes that attracted a man, though. Those violet eyes that glowed in the darkened club, drawing a guy in, making his cock rock-hard and ready. Yeah, he’d popped a time or two thinking about this one. Maybe more than a time or two.
She was all meat and soft cushioning too. With full breasts, fuller hips, thick thighs and an ass begging to be smacked and spanked. Of course she’d nearly broken his hand the first time he gave in to the urge to pop her one. As it was, he ached for a week. And it wasn’t his prick doing the hurting.
“Keep pushing, Mr. Mc-sluts-a-lot.” She turned her attention to the other club patrons, and he shifted until his body faced hers.
“Yeah, well, you know how much I enjoy the lovely endearments you come up with for me, dear heart.” He hit the cigarette again, blowing the smoke in her direction.
She glared at him. “Look, Jacob, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve got this bi-sexual slutdom thing going on, you’d be out of here in half a heartbeat.”
Yeah, yeah, he knew the drill. “Uh huh. And who’s moving in that needs to be protected from little ole me, Miss Jacey?” He opened his senses, wondering if the fresh meat was somewhere in the club. Nothing unusual, so he returned his attention to Jacinda. She never gave him the “slut” speech unless she didn’t want him going after a new resident. He’d get his claws in them, though. Eventually, all the single residents wanted a piece of the bear.
Jacinda stared at him. “She’s sweet and has been sexually abused enough, Jake. Leave her alone and focus on your boy toys for a while. She doesn’t need the shit storm you’d bring into her life. She wants peace and quiet. Not loud, raunchy sex.”
Ja
cob stepped into her space, chest to breast. “You sure you couldn’t use a nice round of loud and raunchy. I could give you what you want, Jacey baby.”
She shoved him away from her, disgust evident on her face. Jacob just laughed. How he loved pushing her buttons.
He smiled, feral-like. “Yeah, yeah, leave the new baby alone until she gets her feet wet. Got it, Miss Jacey.” He saluted the town’s ruler and turned away from her, dismissing the woman from his thoughts. He still had prey to hunt for the night.
Jacob pushed away from the wall and wove his way through the Friday night crowd. Bodies shifted and slid out of his way, recognizing a predator on the prowl. He surveyed the bar’s occupants. A head above most of the other patrons, he could see everyone with ease. Only his brother bears were as tall and wide as he, and they weren’t anywhere in sight tonight.
He took in a deep breath, searching for the body that’d be receptive to him this evening. There was always that subtle scent of forest and plains that accompanied a person that a bear would welcome and embrace. Sometimes it was there and sometimes ... not.
The air conditioner kicked on and the elusive smell he’d been searching for blew past. Someone, somewhere, would be open, willing and wanton for him. He just had to find the right man ... or woman.
He prowled the dance floor, not bothering to hide his intent. He nuzzled more than one attractive neck, searching and hunting his pleasure for the night. Bodies writhed and ground against each other. Sex on the dance floor. He was more interested in sex in a bed, against a wall, in a bathroom stall. Somewhere with a modicum of privacy. Or at least a door. Maybe.