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

by Becca Fanning

  A large bank of snow loomed ahead of me. If I hit it straight on they would have to scrape me off it with a shovel. I pitched to the right, swinging my body around to pivot in a new direction. The bank was now in spitting distance, and I swore under my breath and I went almost horizontal, my hips scraping the snowy mountainside.

  I groaned with relief as I saw a fan of snow shoot up from my skis and I turned to the right. I skied right up to the wall but was now running alongside it, between it and a copse of trees to my right. Zooming past the trees, I saw the wall and trees ended up ahead.

  As did the ground.

  “Aiiiyeeee!” I hollered as I shot off the edge. I imagined myself free falling for thousands of feet, finally impacting at the bottom of a crevasse like a broken rag doll. Luckily things weren’t as dramatic. I landed in a snowdrift below, plunging into it like a cartoon.

  Crawling out of the snowdrift, I looked back and saw the ledge maybe ten feet up. I tried to get my bearings, but I was deep in a valley. I didn’t know which was the ski lodge was, and didn’t see any roads.

  “Well, shit,” I said, unstrapping my boots from my skis. I’d lose my hefty security deposit, but them’s the breaks. I leaned them up against the tree, hopefully visible to someone later. I pulled out my phone, swearing at my lack of a signal.

  Memories of coven meetings came back to me, meetings where I brushed off learning certain things like navigation spells. Why would I need that shit when I had GPS on my phone? For times like this, idiot!

  Snow began falling around me. I looked up at the darkening sky as it let loose a flurry. I thought about how nice this would have been to watch from a warm cabin, next to a fireplace. Ideal. Picturesque. But now I had to worry about freezing to death out here.

  Staying here would get me nowhere. If I kept moving, eventually I would find a road or something. I started putting one foot in front of the other and walked through the dense trees.

  Hours later, I was no better off. It was darker, the snow had gotten thicker, and I was colder. I was maintaining a small enchantment for warmth, but it was draining, constantly sapping my will to stay awake. If I made it too warm, I’d pass out and then I was done for.

  I’d been walking the whole time, mostly in a straight line as far as I could tell. It was easy to say you were walking in a straight line, but when you have to move around trees and bushes every minute, it’s hard to stay on course.

  I leaned my hand against a tree, panting at the exertion of lifting my boots through six inches of snow with every step. Something skittered on the branches above me, sending a little more snow to fall around me. I tilted my head up and saw a squirrel, chittering loudly at me.

  “Keralis smatulis happus!” I said, hoping my incantation was right.

  “…My tree. You stay away from my tree! This is my tree!” the squirrel said, his tiny voice full of fury.

  “Ok, sorry!” I said chittering back. I took my hand off the tree.

  “Better!” he said, looking down at me. “No eat me?”

  “No eat you,” I said. “Cold. Need nest,” I said. You had to communicate in terms they understood.

  “No build nest for you, ugly,” he said. “Smell bad and no tail.”

  I sighed. “Is there a big nest nearby?”

  “Big nest for big uglies?” he said.

  “Yes, big nest for big uglies,” I said, taking my hat off and wiping my brow.

  “Give! Give fur!” he said, His beady little eyes followed the hat in my hand. “Bald and ugly! Big nest I see, tell you. Throw fur up here.”

  I cocked my arm back and aimed it at the little furry asshole. Much to my dismay it unfolded in midair and landed harmlessly on the branch below him.

  “Weak too. Ugly, bald, weak no tail. Maybe better you freeze,” he said, climbing down to grab her hat in his tiny hands.

  I bent down to scoop up a snowball. I packed it hard.

  “Oh, this fur very nice! Big nest for uglies that way,” he said, facing a new direction. He pushed the hat into the nook of a branch and crawled into it.

  “How far?” I said, dropping the snowball.

  “Leave. I sleep now,” he said.

  I turned in the direction he pointed. If he was wrong, or lying, I might have just sealed my doom. I held my gloves against my ears, protecting my delicate extremities from the wind. It was picking up, starting to blow the snow in diagonally.

  I stumbled through the bleak wilderness, my salvation dependent on a creature with a brain the size of a pea. Why couldn’t it have been some wise animal, like an owl or something? It was now a struggle to lift my foot each time. My legs were weak, straining to support me.

  I also realized that I was starving. My breakfast had been just mimosas, and the night before we didn’t eat dinner. Could I have been any less prepared for this?

  My foot caught on a root and I pitched forward. I managed to get my foot back in front of me, so I didn’t fall down. But I did plough forward through a dense bush, my momentum carrying me forward.

  I cleared the stand of trees and found myself next to a log cabin. My spirit soared as I walked around to the front. I knocked on the door, waiting for a response. Hopefully a friendly response, but right now I’d settle for anyone.

  No response.

  I knocked again.

  Nothing.

  The door began to sway in front of me, and I knew I very well might lose consciousness and freeze on this person’s doorstep. I pressed my hand against the knob, feeling the tumblers inside it. I willed them to line up. With a click the door unlocked and I fell inside.

  A dry rug rushed up to meet my face, my head bouncing off it. The pain shook me, woke me up. I crawled up the door and slammed it behind me, shutting out the deadly cold. I lay against it, breathing heavily in and out. It was warm in here, and that was enough.

  I took in the cabin, my eyes lingering. It was unoccupied, and the whole building was a single room. A good sized window was present in each wall, letting in some fading sunlight. A stove was in the corner, the only source of heat for the room. Shelves above and next to the stove held pots, pans and food.

  A bed was laid along the wall near the stove. The bed was made neatly, a green wool blanket laid along the top. A table in the center of the room had a jigsaw puzzle on it, mostly completed.

  My stomach rumbled, and I walked over to the shelves. Mason jars lined the shelves, packed with uncooked staples, preserves and pickles. Some cans of tuna. Aha! A box of Oreos were nestled in the back behind a bag of rice.

  I pulled the box out, tearing the top off and two into my mouth. My brain exploded in sugary bliss, my blood sugar returning to a normal level. These were the very best things I’d ever tasted. I held the box close to me, willing to defend it with my life.

  I walked over to the stove, feeling the heat coming off it. The owner was nearby: you didn’t leave even smoldering embers go if you were leaving. Sure, he’d be pissed about everything, but a little Magic would make everything fine.

  I walked over to the puzzle, devouring more cookies as I went. It was a thousand piece puzzle featuring a proud snow owl. A good portion of it had been completed, but a small pile of pieces lay on the side.

  I twiddled my fingers, the pile of pieces swirling up into the air and falling down into place. The universe is usually pretty eager to find order in chaos. Jigsaw puzzles are no exception. I turned away from the completed puzzle, munching more cookies.

  I sat down on the bed, the sugar rush from the cookies wearing off. I struggled to keep my eyes open.

  “Struella promosa,” I said, weaving a spell for anyone who walked in the door. Something that would give me plenty of warning. I crawled under the covers, curling up and falling asleep.

  “What are you doing in my home?” a stern voice asked.

  My eyes flew open, landing on a naked man at the foot of the bed, crouching to put firewood in the stove. His shoulders were incredibly broad, sinews of muscle stretching up to a wide neck. H
e had snow in his hair, and his body was covered in snowmelt.

  His nakedness was alarming. Almost as alarming as my spell’s failure to wake me. I didn’t know what was going on, but I had to act quickly. I crawled to the edge of the bed and placed my hand on his shoulder.

  “Corealis bultrua,” I whispered. His eyes would close, and he’d fall into a deep sleep. Then I could scramble for his car keys and get the hell out of here. At least, that’s what should have happened.

  He chuckled. “Doesn’t work, sweetheart.” He stood up and turned around, his body glistening in the fire now roaring in the stove. I don’t know if it was the heat from the stove or the heat from his body, but I fell back onto the bed.

  He was incredible. His arms were sculpted from marble, his stomach rippled with a six pack. His ass was firm enough to bounce a quarter off of. His prick hung low, chilled from the cold but seemingly ready for action. He had legs taken right from Roman statues.

  A strong chin, the kind that could dig into your shoulder in the most wonderful way. Lips that were made to be bitten.

  And glowing gold eyes. A Lycan! A creature outside the streams of Magic and therefore immune to it.

  “Uh oh,” I whispered. “Please, don’t eat me.”

  He tilted his head, looking down at me. He made no move to cover himself, no thought of modesty about his wedding tackle swinging in front of a stranger. He clucked his teeth, moving towards me. Everything about his movement shouted danger, the finesse of a casual killer.

  I closed my eyes, bracing for it. The gnashing fangs, the tearing claws. I hoped he’d end me quick. I’d had a pretty good life, all things considered.

  “My Oreos?” he said, picking up the empty box near the foot of the bed.

  I opened my eyes. “Look, I’m really sorry. I was starving,” I said.

  He walked backwards, his shoulders crestfallen. “But the whole box? Come on, who does that? I have whole shelves of food! Make yourself some rice and beans! Some corned beef hash,” he said. “But you don’t eat a man’s whole stash of cookies.”

  He glanced down to his left, at the table. “What the hell? You finished my puzzle too?” he said, awestruck. “You know, I’d heard about witches. I assumed the stories about you being selfish good for nothings was bullshit. But here we are,” he said. “I’m Sigmund, by the way. I’d welcome you to my house, but you’ve already seen to that.”

  “Jessica,” I said. “Look, Sigmund, I’m sorry. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I figured, hey, I’m in a tight spot. If the owner comes home, I’ll just…” I said, trailing off.

  “You’ll just Magic your way out of it,” he said, tossing the empty cookie box into the trash bin. “How did you even get here?”

  “I traded my hat to this asshole squirrel. I didn’t know they were so shallow! The things he said about me,” I said, offended.

  “Right,” he said. “Look, Jessica, you can’t stay here. It’s, uhh…” he said, scratching his head.

  “It’s your time of the month?” I said,

  He laughed, and I joined him. It felt good.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. You’ve got your burdens, and I’ve got mine. Pretty soon, I’m not going to be able to control myself,” he said, hands on his hips.

  “What’s it like? Does it hurt?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Yeah, a little. But it’s more emotional than physical,” he said, tapping his fingers into his open hand. “Instead of being this intellectual being, I just get to be wild. To run, to hunt…” he said.

  “To fuck?” I said, climbing out of bed. I’d heard about this, the other thing I was taught about werewolves. They couldn’t help it, but they were masculinity incarnate. Power, loyalty and enough pheromones to make a nunnery faint.

  He chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. It was practically a growl.

  I was drawn to him, my body screaming for his touch. Near death experiences had a way of sending you crashing into the next pair of arms you see. Tapping into Magic all day compounded that primal need. And, well, seeing this magnificent man in front of me.

  What’s a girl to do?

  I walked up close to him, reaching out a single finger to touch his lips. “I’m sorry I ate your food, big bad wolf.”

  His eyes locked on to mine. His breathing froze.

  I ran my finger down his chest. “I’m sorry I ruined your puzzle, big bad wolf.” I delighted in the way my fingers brushed against his curly chest hair. I bit my lip in anticipation. I could feel my pussy getting slick, just thinking about this stud and what he was going to do to me.

  His nostrils flared, smelling my desire. His face got closer to mine, leaning in to smell me better.

  “And I’m sorry I slept in your bed. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, big bad wolf?” I said, my finger scratching a single line down his abs. Past his belly button, and into the nestling jungle of hair cropped above his engorging manhood. My finger touched his cock, ran down it’s length and grabbed the small bead of pre-cum that had formed on it’s tip.

  I looked him in the eyes, bringing it to my lips and licking my finger clean. “I hope you have more where that came from,” I said, kneeling in front of him.

  He breathed in slowly, deeply. His hands stroked my cheeks, touched my ear, my lips.

  I brought his heavy cock to my mouth, the tight circle of my lips forming a seal against his soft skin. Inside the smooth sheath, his cock was growing longer and harder, awoken in primal passion.

  My tongue swirled the head, cleaning it of more salty seed. I savored the musk of him, the wild scent of pine needles and smoke. My nose tickled, buried in his bush as I deep throated him. I gagged, the width of his prick too much to take in so deeply. My eyes teared up, and I pulled back.

  He growled, golden eyes looking down at me dangerously. His mind was gone, possessed now by a bestial need to relieve the pressure in his balls, to empty his seed in a mate. His hand grabbed a handful of hair and he thrust his cock into my mouth, using me as he needed.

  My hand went inside my pants, rubbing my aching clit. It was slick, coated with evidence of my own desire for this man. As his cock slid in and out of my mouth, I thrust a pair of fingers into my pussy, matching his rhythm.

  The whole room seemed to slow down as I came. My pussy flexed and spasmed around my fingers, my juices flooding out to soak my panties and run down my leg. My muscles in my jaw constricted, causing me to gently bite down on Sigmund’s thick pale prick. I pulled my hand from my pants and put it on his hip to stop his thrusts.

  He released my hair and dropped out of my mouth, a line of saliva stretching from my lips to his hot eager cock. His balls shimmered in the light from the stove, slick with my spit. He grabbed the hand that was on his hip, pulling me up as he brought it to his face.

  He brought my hand to his face, sniffing it voraciously. He brought his tongue out and lapped at my digits, cleaning them of my cum. His strength was incredible, and I was practically on my tiptoes while he took his time slurping up my cum. When my hand was clean, he sniffed further down my body.

  Without notice his arms grabbed the front of my ski jacket and tore in opposite directions. Like threadbare rags, My jacket and the shirt beneath it shredded in his hands. My bare breasts were exposed to the warm air of the cabin.

  He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other went to my waistband. Like he was pulling the wrapper off a candy bar, he stripped off my ski pants, pants, and underwear. I stood before him, naked as a bluejay, my puffy shaved pussy lips slowly leaking down my leg.