Dancing Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  When Cain returned, he was bare-chested, his thick body hair glistening lightly from perspiration. Linnie noted that there was no longer a trace of a scar on his side. She caught herself letting her eyes linger on his powerful build and firm biceps for an extra moment, before she turned back to stirring the meal she was preparing.

  “It’s something they claim is steak for dinner.” she said over her shoulder, as Cain set the extra wood beside the fireplace. “I’m supposed to boil the bag, apparently?”

  Cain let out a grunting noise as he set up the fireplace. “The steak’s not bad.”

  Linnie laughed. “I trust you, Cain, but I don’t think I believe you.” She removed the steak from the boiling water, and sliced both bags open, emptying their contents onto two separate plates. As she carried them over to the coffee table, Cain sat back from the blaze, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. He glanced up as the plates were set on the table, and nodded his appreciation.

  “That’ll be nice tonight. Warm.” Linnie said with a smile, sitting down on the sofa. “I notice you’ve already healed up.” she said, harpooning one of the narrow bands of meat on her plate with her fork.

  Cain stretched his left arm. “Yeah. Healed up nicely. Thanks for the cleaning. It helped.” Cain gathered up a forkful of meat for himself, raising them to his mouth.

  “Hm. You’re right, it’s not bad,” murmured Linnie, pointing at her plate with her fork. The warm silence settled in again around the pair of them.

  The crash of thunder caused the cottage to shake again, but it was more distant now. Linnie had never been outside the city during a storm like this before, and wasn’t used to having a front-row seat to the full fury of nature. It had been unsettling, to see the trees bending over, and to hear the raindrops pound against the windows and the walls of the cottage. She’d never take concrete and steel girders for granted again.

  The rage of the storm had kept her from sleeping, although she was exhausted. About an hour ago, she had moved to Cain’s side of the room, joining him on his couch, enjoying the sensation of warm leather through her tights, trying not to make it obvious that she was clinging to Cain to feel safe and protected.

  Cain sat back from playing with the fire, and set his arm along the back of the couch.

  Linnie shifted a little closer, such that their shoulders rubbed against each other.

  “Cold?” Cain asked, and Linnie shook her head to answer in the negative; the firelight had kept the cottage warm, despite the chill of the night.

  After a pause, Linnie spoke. “Thanks. For the fire, I mean.” After a pause, she added, “And everything. Like saving my life.”

  Cain simply shrugged in response.

  Linnie sighed. “I wish I had your calm. Your confidence.”

  He shrugged again. “What does worrying get you? Does it help? Nah, I’d rather be focused.”

  Cain brought his hand down from the back of the couch, onto Linnie’s shoulder. She felt her heart skip a beat, as his thumb rubbed at her upper arm.

  Cain stared into the firelight. “But it can make it more difficult, at times. You need to be this unmoving rock,” he said. “It’s tough to keep that up all the time.”

  Linnie watched Cain’s face, and she gently raised her hand, setting it on his chest. She didn’t know what she was doing, but it felt right. It just felt right.

  Linnie felt her eyes and her heart flutter as he leaned in. Linnie couldn’t help but pucker her lips as Cain paused, just a half-inch from her face. Linnie parted her mouth and Cain’s face surged forward. His kiss crushed her lips, seizing on her half-opened mouth. Cain’s kiss was hungry, and his tongue pressed insistently into Linnie’s mouth.

  She murmured, and let Cain push her back into the couch; he shifted his weight, and Linnie felt his body weigh hers down. Linnie’s tongue ran along Cain’s, curling and teasing to tempt Cain’s tongue into her mouth, nodding just a little to spur him on. She felt his hand slide down along her thigh. Her right hand rested on Cain’s left shoulder, as she traced her fingernails along his shoulder blade. Linnie felt wonderfully warm, between the heat from the fireplace and Cain’s hot lips.

  He pressed her back against the couch, bringing some of his weight onto her, and she was more than happy to obliged. His right hand travelled from her left shoulder to pull her hair out from under her, and then to stroke down; through her top, she felt Cain’s fingertips tracing along her skin. His left hand, towards the outside of the couch, squeezed at her right thigh.

  Already she wanted her leggings off, and Cain’s pants, as well; she could feel herself growing hot and damp, anticipating his touch. “Cain…” Linnie murmured.

  He grunted into their kiss, his hand rhythmically squeezing at her thigh, tempting and pulling at her. He cupped her breast, and felt the weight of it, as his thumb teased across her nipple. The sensation caused Linnie’s hips to flex upward, seeking out Cain’s own, and she felt a generous bulge between Cain’s legs press against her.

  The feeling of Cain’s cock rutting against her sex set Linnie quivering. “Oh, wow. You’re huge,” she murmured, and Cain chuckled in response. He adjusted his hips, so that the thick shaft pressed against Linnie’s tights, and she felt her cotton panties, soaked with her juices, press into her slit. Hooking her fingers over Cain’s shoulders, she pulled on him, trying to bring him closer to her, but she was nowhere near strong enough to make him so much as budge.

  Cain gathered Linnie’s shirt in his hand, allowing his fingers to press forcefully across her breast for a moment. Linnie moaned, and then gasped as Cain tugged at her shirt, blowing all the buttons off. The cool fall air and the heat of the fireplace both traced across the skin of her chest, as Cain pulled her shirt open.

  Beneath Cain’s weight, Linnie writhed, biting her lip, stretching her arms over her head and nodding. Cain shifted, pulling himself back, half-standing over the edge of the couch, reaching down to undo his belt. Linnie nodded, and pulled her arms out of what was left of her shirt, before reaching for the lower edge of Cain’s sweater.

  Cain reached his arms out, and allowed her to pull his sweater from him. His body was powerfully built, but his muscles were partly hidden beneath a light layer of plush. Linnie ran her hands across his chest, through the thick hair there, pressing against his firm yet pliable flesh.

  Cain finished undoing his belt, and allowed his pants to fall to the ground. Linnie gasped as Cain’s shaft leapt to attention. Linnie gingerly reached up to take hold of Cain’s cock. It was thick, thicker around than she’d been with before, as thick across as her three fingers, and longer than she’d had before. The head was a dull purple, soft and spongy. She ran her hand up from the base of the shaft to the head, pressing against the frenulum with the pad of her thumb.

  Linnie looked up at Cain from her seated spot on the couch, and he brushed the hair out of her face. With one hand, she cupped Cain’s heavy testicles, while the other wrapped around his shaft at the base. Linnie leaned forward, parting her lips, and gently directed the head of Cain’s cock into her mouth. Her tongue teased around the edge of the mushroom-shaped head at the end of Cain’s shaft, and she felt the cock swell beneath her grasp., growing just a bit thicker. She murmured, and Cain groaned in response.

  Linnie’s hands reached up to Cain’s hips, her fingernails tracing along his skin. His hands cupped her head, one on either side of her jaw, gently holding her in place, as his hips flexed involuntarily under her touch. She felt her pussy throb, pouring her juices out, soaking through her panties and dampening her tights.

  Cain’s cock tasted like he smelled; a deep and manly scent, one that was delicious and alluring. Deep and earthy. She craned her neck forward, taking more of Cain’s shaft into her mouth, and he groaned approvingly.

  “Enough,” he grunted, and Linnie felt herself start to smile. She tried to move her head down, but Cain would have none of it; he pulled her head from his shaft, and pushed Linnie back onto the couch.

  Linni
e gasped, and Cain reached for the waistband of her tights. He pulled them from her, yanking them down with a single smooth and forceful motion, causing Linnie to groan, setting her hips rocking. Cain slipped an arm under her, and pulled her into the air, setting her back down with her knees on the floor, her face buried against the back of the couch.

  Linnie’s hands dug into the cushions of the couch, firmly taking hold. She spread her knees, even as she brought her ankles together, to best display her naked and glistening slit to Cain.

  She felt Cain’s hands settle on her hips, squeezing tightly, and pulling her backward toward him. His left hand left Linnie’s hip to take hold of the back of her neck, thumb on one side, two fingers on the other, and Linnie felt the rounded head of his shaft press against her treasured opening.

  Cain rubbed at her neck with his fingers, and Linnie gave the slightest nod, as she moaned, “Mmmm…oh yes, please.”

  Cain pressed forward, and Linnie felt her world catch fire.

  Cain didn’t pause, or give her body time to adjust; his forward thrust was urgent, needing, almost desperate. Like a primitive beast needing to mate, every motion of his body was just to take her and claim her as his.

  Linnie could feel the leather of the couch against her face and chest, warm and supple and wonderful, it’s smell filling her nose and overwhelming her senses. She could feel the head of Cain’s cock, buried more deeply inside her than anything had ever been before, and her thighs shuddered for it. She moaned, and nodded, urging Cain forward. “More,” she begged.

  Cain drew back, and as he thrust again, he pulled back on Linnie’s hips, bouncing them against his own, bouncing her buttocks against his thighs. She heard her lover snarl, and felt his right hand clench her hip more tightly; in response she only nodded. Her left hand crushed the couch-cushion as she bit on the knuckle of her right thumb, the feeling of Cain’s cock making it’s way in-and-out of her sheath overwhelming her senses, building her towards an eruption, an explosive climax that might undo her.

  “Yes!“ Linnie moaned, nodding. While one hand dug into the leather, the other slid down, under her body, curling around her hip; she stretched two fingers down, through the peach-fuzz fur above her wet slit. Her clit throbbed; Linnie’s index finger traced along its hood, rubbing and teasing, moving back and forth in sync with Cain’s thrusts.

  Cain’s growls behind her built, building in volume as his thrusts built in forcefulness. Cain’s right hand pulled Linnie’s hips back, while his left pressed her down towards his hips, bending her body into the correct shape for him to best fill her with his seed.

  Linnie felt her body swelling, her nerves growing taut, her pussy pulsing and pulling at Cain’s shaft, trying to coax him towards his own eruption.

  “Linnie,” Cain said, his voice deep. He spoke her name with a deep rumble, throaty and heavy with lust.

  Linnie felt the head of his cock swell, felt his shaft twitch, and felt the hefty vein that ran along his marvelous dick throb. Linnie angled her hips up as the fingers that rubbed at her clit became a blur of motion.

  Cain gave a final, forceful thrust. He plunged his cock as deep into Linnie as he could, the soft head of his impressive shaft bumping against Linnie’s cervix. The tight bundle of his sac smacked against her sore clit.

  Linnie cried out as pain and pleasure mixed, deep inside her body. Linnie whimpered as one, two, three thick jets of cum tore out of Cain’s cock, soaking the walls of her inner sanctum. She worked her hips back, feeling Cain’s cock throb and pulse, depositing shot after shot of his hot, sticky seed inside her, filling her; she felt full, as if she was ready to burst. Feeling Cain’s hot cream within her was too much, and it pushed Linnie over the edge; Linnie felt her climax carry her away.

  Linnie’s pussy pulsed around Cain’s member, squeezing it as tightly as it could, milking and tugging and desperate for every drop of Cain’s cum. She felt her fingertips press along the leather of the couch, felt the fires of her pleasure surge through her body, rushing out from her clit and her cunt and setting her muscles on fire. Her thighs shuddered, and as the sensation passed up her spine, she felt Cain’s cock continue to pump her full of his seed.

  The climax stole Linnie’s breath, and she felt a wonderful, velvet darkness tease the edges of her mind. Cain gave her another thrust, and then gently picked her up from the floor. She gave a gentle moan of pleasure, as she felt Cain’s great strength lay her on the couch, and felt him tenderly lay a blanket atop her, as he slid in around her feet.

  At long last, sleep came easily to her.

  The morning sun seemed brighter, the morning after the storm. Linnie roused herself slowly, glancing around the cabin, finding that Cain was nowhere to be seen, but the smell of coffee filled the room, creeping forth from a pot that sat atop the warm coals of the fire.

  A few minutes later, Linnie slipped outside, into the brisk morning air, following the steady “thump” of Cain, chopping wood. She stood a moment on the porch to watch him as he rebuilt their woodpile after last night. Seeing her standing there, he paused a moment, and walked towards her.

  She leaned over the edge of the porch to speak to him. “I’m going to testify.” she said, and he nodded. “It’s what’s right, isn’t it?”

  Cain was quiet, and let her speak. She nodded to herself.

  “You’ll be with me, won’t you?” Linnie smiled. “To see it through to the end?”

  “You’re not going to be able to get rid of me, I’m afraid.” Cain said, putting his hand over hers.

  Linnie smiled, the first carefree smile she’d had in a very long time.

  A VOICE LIKE HONEY TITLE PAGE

  A Voice Like Honey

  by

  Becca Fanning

  A VOICE LIKE HONEY

  Nicole Warren’s hands hovered over her keyboard as she pondered on the right word to use to describe the album she was reviewing. For all the years she spent in English classes and all her experience writing, there was always that one word that would fit perfectly in her write-up. Finding it was like hunting an elk in the frozen tundra. You couldn’t blindly rush for it, because your mind would seal it off and it would be gone. You had to stalk it, tip-toe around it until it happened to fall into your lap.

  She took her well worn pen into her mouth and sucked on the end. Her tongue found the little scratches and dents her teeth left in it. She noticed the small growing pile of empty yogurt containers on her desk. The plant in the window of her bedroom had seen better days, and there really were way too many dirty clothes on her floor for her to consider herself an independent adult. Ahh, the glorious life of the freelance writer. She didn’t recall any pictures of this scene in the San Diego School of Journalism brochures.

  The album was a fairly typical college rock blast from the 90s, by kids who weren’t even old enough to be genuinely nostalgic about that period of time. It was derivative, but that was a cynic’s word. Nicole wasn’t a cynic. It had elements of passion that came through and it even took chances at times, so to call it derivative would be just as inaccurate as calling it flawless. And it definitely wasn’t flawless.

  She let the thought run through her mind again. To think that she was almost done with the article. She was really eager to finish up on this one and move on to her personal project. In actuality, it was not an official project yet. She still had to submit it to the powers that be, but it was something she had her heart on for a very long time now.

  She was going to start an interview series for those behind the success of the big stars. The idea had first come to her during an event. She had been standing beside someone she eventually found out was the manager of one of the new up and coming hip-hop stars. It struck her then that while everyone was obsessed with the stars, there were a lot of people behind the scenes who made their success happen. It was her duty as a music lover and reporter to bring people’s attention to things they previously overlooked.

  Fortunately for her she had an editor who was beyond enth
usiastic. The smile Josh gave her as soon as she spoke the words “interview series” told Nicole that she was in. He told her right then and there that he would take care of all the nitty gritty and that as soon as she was done with this album review, she could start working on the new project.