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

by Becca Fanning

  Catharn was under me, his hands guiding me down onto his cock. He slathered a glob of spit up and down his rod, then pressed his head against my asshole. “Relax, little minx. Take your time, and take me inside you.”

  I winced at the anticipated pain. He felt too big. He felt too wide. I screwed up my face in pain and gritted my teeth.

  “Cynthia,” Dom spoke quietly, our faces an inch apart.

  I opened my eyes, staring into his gorgeous golden orbs.

  “Just breath. It all starts with the breath,” he said.

  I grasped onto his words, clearing my mind and ignoring the pressure at my back door. I breathed in and out, slowly and deeply just like in yoga class. I felt the life giving air fill my lungs, then the sensation of exultation as I expelled the air. Then my body shifted downward slightly. I did it again and I slid down a little bit more onto Catharn’s cock. Before I knew it, I felt his body underneath mine. “I did it!”

  “You were always able to,” Dom said, smiling down at me. He let my legs go, and they came down to rest around his hips. He leaned in and kissed me, pressing down onto me.

  I felt Catharn breath under me as I was squished between these two alpha male Shifters. I realized that Dom hadn’t come yet. He’d been so focused on me. That wouldn’t do. I began gyrating my hips.

  Both men hissed air between gritted teeth.

  “You little whore,” Catharn said from beneath me, straining not to cum again. His hands came up from below and played with my breasts.

  “We’re lucky to have such a lovely little whore,” Dom said as he began to fuck me again, matching my gyrations with his thrusts. His face was focused on mine, the heat of our bodies filling the room. Beads of sweat cascaded down from his hair and fell off the tip of his nose, landing on my neck.

  We were slick with sweat and sex, not a dry spot anywhere on our bodies. We became a well oiled sex machine, two pistons driving in and out of me, two men needing to relieve the screaming tension in their balls. I wrapped my arms around Dom’s neck and rode them both, slamming myself down onto both hard dicks as they thrust up into me.

  Both men bit down onto opposite shoulders as we all came. My orgasm crashed over me like a typhoon as two hard cocks spasmed inside me. Two sets of balls flexed against each other, competing to fill me with as much seed as possible. I stared up at the ceiling, my whole body on fire and feeling alive for the first time in years.

  We all lay there, breathing in unison, not wanting to move ever again.

  BETWEEN TWO BEARS TITLE PAGE

  Between Two Bears

  by

  Becca Fanning

  BETWEEN TWO BEARS

  It was one of those moments. You know the kind. You’re faced with a choice. You can imagine how your future self turns out either way. Sure I could’ve kept walking down the street, caramel latte in hand. But I didn’t.

  I looked down at the sign.

  BearFit Training Gym. Humans and Shifters Welcome!

  I needed to go to the gym. I’d always been a big girl, but my habits had just solidified that in adulthood. It wasn’t an aesthetic thing: I dreaded getting that news in the doctor’s office that I was diabetic. My aunts struggled with that, and I didn’t want any part of it.

  But a Shifter gym? They were kind of strange. I had a friend in college who’d dated one. Said they were super passionate and a little unhinged. And a wrecking ball in the sack. Some mornings she’d be stuck in bed, a bag of ice on her vagina. I bit my lip as I remembered those stories. They kept me warm some nights.

  “Hi, would you like to come in to check the gym out?” a deep husky voice said from behind me.

  I turned around and looked up into a pair of deep golden eyes. My breath caught in my throat. I’d seen them in videos and heard about them, but I’d never seen them up close. They belonged to a very handsome face, framed by straight brown hair. “Hi,” I managed. “Umm, I was just reading,” I said as I pointed behind me to the sign. Stupid! Of course, what else would you be doing?

  “Reading about it is one thing, seeing it is another,” he said, smiling. Very nice teeth. He stretched one huge arm in front of himself, pulling it taut with the other arm. Whether it was for some benefit or just to show off, I didn’t care.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I was just out for some coffee,” I said, holding up my cup. Why did I always do this in front of cute guys? Pull it together.

  “I won’t keep you long. Five minutes. You never know, it might change your life,” he said.

  “Now you’re laying it on thick,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he said with a shrug. “What can I say? I’m excited about this place. My name’s Mark,” he said, extending his hand.

  I put my hand into his. “Olivia,” I said. His giant hand curled around mine, firm but gentle. For the first time in a very long time, I felt dainty.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia. Right this way,” he said, opening the door for me.

  We walked inside, the hallway extending down the building and coming to a staircase. We walked up two flights of stairs. “The warmup,” he joked.

  At the top of the stairs he held open a large glass door for me. Truth be told, I was winded. I forced myself to breath through my nose so it wouldn’t be obvious. I was relieved when he was called over to the front desk to help the attendant there.

  I leaned back against the wall, my lungs sucking in air as fast as they could. I knew this wasn’t normal, and it was proof that I needed to exercise more. But was a gym really for me? They had those workout videos that you can do in your living room. Those felt more my speed.

  “Sorry about that Olivia,” Mark said, joining me again. “Welcome to BearFit Training, where we put you first!” He held his arms out wide, letting me take in the breadth of his domain.

  The gym was bright, thanks to a wall of floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the avenue below. Tons of cardio equipment filled the large part of the gym. Treadmills, ellipticals and stationary bikes were lined up in rows against the windows. Off to one side were the free weights. Two guys were taking turns lifting weights, grunting noisily as they did.

  “So here we have everything you’ll need to make a commitment to yourself. Cardio equipment for getting your heart rate up. Weights if you want to tone up,” he said. He pointed off to a doorway. “That’s our class workout room. I’ll get you a schedule before you leave.”

  “So are all your trainers…” I said, not knowing if this was a polite question.

  “Board certified? Yes, and we require recertification every six months. That’s twice as often as any other gym in the city,” he said, leading me over to the locker rooms.

  “No, sorry. I meant, are you all Shifters?” I said quietly.

  “Ma’am, I’m more than a set of golden eyes and inch long fangs,” he said. Then he dropped the act, grinning. “Yeah, but it’s just coincidence. We’re not against a human coming on board as a trainer, if they’re qualified.”

  “Sorry, I hope that wasn’t rude,” I said.

  “You’re just curious. I get that. I think that mystique will be good for the gym. At least I hope so,” he said. “Anyway, here we have our co-ed locker room.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  “That joke doesn’t work, does it?” he said, then quietly, almost to himself, “Ok, Mark, stick that one in the bin.”

  I found that affectation cute. “Shucks, just then I thought I’d have another reason to come to the gym,” I said, looking away as I sipped my coffee. I was flirting! I was flirting with a personal trainer! A shifter personal trainer!

  “That’s the whole shebang, Olivia,” Mark said. “We’ve got some plans for expansion but those are down the road. Do you have any questions?” He put his arm up on a weight machine and leaned against it. His shirt pulled up and his pale six-pack peaked out at me.

  I pulled away from his delicious abs and met his eyes. “Do you take Visa?”

  “Olivia, y
ou’re so hot,” Mark said as he undressed me.

  We were in the gym, except it wasn’t the gym. There was just a bed in the center, the old four post bed with sheer scarves draped all over it. It was empty save for the two of us.

  “Take off your shirt, Mark,” I said, in my best sultry voice.

  He peeled his shirt off, and as my eyes went up his body, it just got better and better. A nice little treasure trail leading up to his belly button, then his six-pack. Above those were his marble slab pecks, and shoulders that just didn’t quit.

  My mouth watered at the sight of him. “Do you like my robe?” I said, letting it slip off one shoulder to let him see some skin.

  “I do, but I’d like it better on the floor,” he said.

  I feigned scandal, pulling the robe back over my shoulder. “Good sir, what kind of lady do you take me for?”

  “The kind who wants me to kneel in front of her and spend all night servicing her,” he growled.

  My legs trembled with anticipation, and I felt a bead of my lust appear on my slit. I closed my eyes and took a step forward to kiss him. To feel his hard chest in my hands, the bulge in his sweat pants against my stomach.

  But instead I fell forward, fell through the floor, falling and falling forever.

  Last night’s fantasy turned nightmare probably reflected some deep seated issues, but at face value, I took it as a reminder to get into the gym. I was resigned not to be one of those people who just bought a gym membership and didn’t go.

  It was late, and I’d had a stressful day at work. My boss Janice thought I’d lost something, and let me know how upset she was. Lo and behold, she found the missing contract on her desk, under her pile of papers. Would it have killed her to apologize?

  Suffice it to say it was a pretty good excuse to crawl into a tub of butter pecan ice cream and zone out to some reality shows. That had been my default evening activity as of late. It was just so easy to fall back into that habit. I could practically hear the creamy frozen temptation call out to me.

  But enough was enough. If I didn’t decide to change, this could end up being the next decade or two of my life. I wasn’t happy, so it was time to change things up.

  I changed into my gym clothes and grabbed my water bottle. I had a plan. I didn’t want to overdo it, but I wanted to spend a solid hour there. Satisfied that I was prepared, I headed out.

  The walk there was short, and the setting sun gave everything a pleasant purple glow. I took a shortcut through an alley that brought me to the back entrance of the gym. I nodded to myself and walked in.

  Up in the gym, the place was busy. Lots of people bustled around, going from machine to machine. I was pleased to note that lots of different types used this gym. There was nothing worse than being the only normal person in a gym full of athletes and models.

  I watched a balding man step off the treadmill. I ran over to snatch the open machine, putting my water bottle in the little holster. I stepped up on the thing and in moments I was speedily walking at an incline.

  “Do it! Lift it!” a man said loudly from the free weight area.

  The man next to him was beet red, lifting a bar full of weight up off the ground. With a loud grunt he heaved and stood erect, then lowered the weight down. He breathed in heavily and walked around in a little circle.

  I put my earphones in and fired up the 90’s dance playlist I’d spent way too long putting together. A Cher remix came on and I was in the zone. One song led into the next, and I was just putting one foot in front of the other. My thighs protested, my thick ass whined but I paid them no mind. Before I knew it, tiny droplets of sweat were forming on my brow and cascading down the sides of my face. The soreness abated, replaced by a feeling of power. My body hadn’t moved like this in a very long time, but it was remembering.

  I looked out the large windows onto the avenue below, the street lamps casting a soft glow over the people walking between shops. Directly across from the gym, in what might seem like a cruel twist of fate, was an ice cream shop. We’re not talking about the icy and sugar crap slung in forty-nine flavors or whatever. This was the super premium stuff. It would melt on your tongue like a velvety blanket of heroin, filling your brain with “all the feels” as the kids say these days.

  I watched the people going in and out of that place. I realized something strange: I didn’t envy them. I didn’t want to join them. I kind of felt bad for them, because they weren’t sweating right now.

  Then, to my surprise, the ice cream shop emptied and they turned off the lights. How strange for them to close to early. I glanced down at the readout of the treadmill for the first time since I stepped on it.

  I almost tripped when I saw the number. A hundred and fifty minutes. Great, I thought, I chose a broken one. I looked around the gym and saw that very few people remained. I tapped the screen of my phone to turn it on. It was past 10PM, closing time for the gym.

  “Hey there,” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned and was looking at a tall bleach blonde guy with very wide shoulders and golden eyes. “Hey yourself,” I said, grabbing my water bottle and bringing it to my lips. It was empty. Damn.

  “My name’s Frank, I’m one of the trainers here. I saw you were really working it, and I didn’t want to interrupt you, but it’s closing time,” he said.

  “You were watching me work it?” I said casually. Where was this coming from?

  “Umm,” he said, his eyes going wide. “Not like that. I mean, we get people in here that work hard. But you’re something else,” he said.

  I was pretending to look up at the clock on the wall. I could feel his eyes roam over my body, taking in my curves through the soaked fabric of my t-shirt and yoga pants. “And what if I’d just kept going?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it would’ve been a late night,” he said, grinning.

  “Well, my name’s Olivia, and I was just wrapping up,” I said. I hit the stop button on the treadmill and stepped off.

  “Be care-“ he said.

  I took a step, and my quadricep seized up. “Eeeek!” I cried as the worst charlie horse I’d ever felt rippled through my right leg.

  “Here,” Frank said, ducking under my arm and grabbing my waist to help me walk over to a bench.

  As soon as I took another step, my other leg seized up. I threw my other arm around his neck and hung on for dear life, my legs hanging uselessly under me.

  “Ok,” he said. “New plan.” Without hesitation, he dipped low for a second and his arms went under me.

  “No, don’t hurt yourself!” I pleaded. Then I was weightless. I was floating. In this man’s arms. Like a new bride being carried over the hearth in those old stories, he walked me over to the nearest bench.

  “Now just relax,” he said as he gently placed me down. “You’re fine, but you could seriously injure yourself if we don’t relax this muscle.”

  “I’m fine. I just need a few seconds,” I said, gritting my teeth through the pain. After a decade of being a couch potato, I speed walked at an incline for two and a half hours. Stupid! “Besides, you have to close up.”

  “A few more minutes won’t kill me,” he said. “I’m a licensed kinesiologist, and I’d like to do a simple massage to each leg to restore blood flow. Is that ok with you?”

  “Yes!” I said, my facade melting. I just wanted the cramping to stop.