Grizzly Beginning (Arcadian Bears Book 2)

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Grizzly Beginning (Arcadian Bears Book 2) Page 11

by Becca Jameson


  “I need you inside me.” She communicated that with him, unable to stop herself.

  “I know.”

  That’s it? All he had to respond with was “I know”?

  A flood of his emotions raced into her head when she let her guard down. She didn’t have the ability to block him with her brain scrambled with lust.

  He wanted her. He would do anything for her. Including not fuck her. He would do whatever it took to make her his.

  A tight ball formed low in her belly, a combination of desire and sadness. There was an internal war staging itself inside her head. Half of her wanted to toss him off her and run from the room. How could she crave the touch of someone who hurt her so badly?

  The other half of her wanted him to take off his boxers and push his cock inside her. Now. Without thinking or discussing it. Just do it.

  He abandoned her mouth to kiss a line along her jaw to her ear, and then he nibbled on the lobe, making her squirm.

  She felt the smile on his lips as he continued down her neck. The shirt was so big that the neckline was too wide for her, exposing her shoulders.

  When Austin set his nose on the sensitive spot at the base of her neck, she felt a sense of euphoria spread through her body. It was so right having him there nuzzling the place she desperately wanted him to bite.

  Did he know it? Of course he did. He grazed his teeth over the tender skin and then licked the spot long and slow. “You’re amazing.”

  She squirmed. Every part of her wanted to be his. But how could she do it? Wouldn’t she always harbor a certain level of hurt and mistrust for him? This was no way to start a relationship, especially one that would bind them together for life.

  Finally, he pulled away from her neck and stared down at her. Without a word, they remained like that, gazes locked, for long minutes. Her breathing was loud and heavy. His was louder. Her pulse beat so rapidly she could feel it as a twitch in her neck.

  Eventually, he tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. “If this is all I ever got from you, it would be enough.” He lifted off her, tugged the blankets out from under her, and pulled them back over both their bodies. After leaning across her to flip off the lamp on the bedside table, he settled her back against his chest and tucked his arms around her body under her breasts.

  She had never been so comfortable and cherished. She had also never been so physically aware of the growing need to bind herself to someone. Her clit throbbed, but there was no way in hell she was going to point that out. Anyway, he knew. His thick erection was pressed against her ass.

  He knew.

  Was he playing with her emotions, trying to tempt her into binding to him? Or was he simply acting on the same driving need she felt for him?

  He kissed her neck again, sending a shiver down her spine. “Your mind is racing. Go to sleep.”

  More alert, she wondered how much she was projecting to him and how much she was blocking? Ordinarily even mates could block one another from their thoughts. But she was not only under a tremendous amount of stress, she was also totally out of practice.

  Most days in the last five years, she had not encountered a single shifter. No grizzly shifters lived in the apartment building in Quebec City. Occasionally she encountered someone while she was out, but usually she would simply smile and nod as she passed them on the street or in the store.

  Blocking wasn’t a habit she practiced lately.

  “Nuria…” he warned, as if admonishing a child who was chatting when she was supposed to be asleep.

  “Get out of my head.”

  He chuckled, shocking her. He also began to stroke the underside of her breast with his thumb. “Stop stressing and think about something else,” he murmured against her ear.

  She grabbed his hand to stop his thumb. “And you think keeping me aroused will help?”

  He chuckled again. “It can’t hurt.”

  “It does. It hurts,” she admitted, swallowing the actual pain that manifested as a physical need. “It hurts so badly I can’t make good choices.”

  He froze, drawing his hand out of hers and flattening it on her belly. At least he wasn’t stroking her breast anymore.

  She swallowed, fighting back the tears that wanted to fall.

  This thing between them was undeniable, painful, and insurmountable. How were they going to fix it?

  Weren’t there some things in life that couldn’t be fixed?

  Chapter Eleven

  Austin held her without moving for over an hour before her breathing evened out and her mind stopped racing. She fell asleep in his arms, but her body never fully relaxed. It was a restless sleep. He hated that for her.

  Not that he was sleeping himself. His mind was also wandering to all the same subjects as hers. How could they make this work?

  How could they not?

  It wasn’t until he focused on her steady breathing and the rhythmic beat of her heart that he finally fell asleep next to her.

  It seemed like only seconds later that he awoke to the sound of female voices. He bolted upright, glancing around the room. He was alone.

  The tinkle of Nuria’s laughter reached him from the living room, though.

  And his mother’s.

  And his two sisters, Abigail and Adriana.

  He groaned as he hefted himself out of bed, tugged on a pair of jeans, and headed for the women.

  The four of them were in the kitchen around the table sipping mugs of coffee and tea. A box of Danishes sat in the center of the table, half empty.

  Nuria lifted her gaze first. Her face was lit up with more happiness than he’d seen in the two days since they reunited. He shouldn’t be jealous of his own immediate family, but he was. He tugged on a T-shirt as he entered the room.

  “Hey, sleepy,” his mother said as he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

  “Hey, Mom.” He nodded toward his sisters. “What are you three up to?”

  Abigail pointed at several bags stacked next to the hallway. “We brought Nuria some clothes.”

  He turned his gaze to Nuria, pretending he hadn’t noticed she was wearing something other than his T-shirt or her jeans and tee from yesterday. “I see.”

  “I did a pretty good job guessing her size,” his mother stated, “and Adriana did a great job shopping last night.”

  Abby leaned on her elbows. “Being a man, we didn’t think it would ever occur to you that Nuria might want something clean to wear eventually.” She giggled behind her cup of coffee.

  “I thought you were fine in one of my tees with nothing on underneath.” He met and held Nuria’s gaze as he communicated that into her mind only.

  Loving the way she flushed a deep red, he winked.

  Adrianna giggled in the same tone as their sister. When no one was looking, it was difficult to tell the two of them apart by voice. “Wow, you guys were right. I didn’t fully believe it.”

  “Believe what?” Austin asked as he headed for the coffee pot. He regretted asking the question instantly.

  “Oh, you know,” Abby answered, her voice too cheery, “that you two are clearly fated to be together.”

  “Abigail,” his mother admonished. “Don’t tease. You’re embarrassing Nuria.”

  Abby shrugged as Austin leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee. “I’m just saying, it’s not often two people are so…connected like that. I mean, I’ve heard of it happening sometimes, but most of us have to meet, fall in love, and then bind together blindly and hope for the best.”

  This time his mother chuckled. “Some people know. I knew. As soon as I met your father, I knew.”

  Adriana groaned. “Spare us the story. We’ve heard it a thousand times. And besides, there’s a difference between you and Dad knowing and the rest of the world around you also knowing.”

  “True. I’ll give you that. It’s a special kind of connection.” His mother turned around to face him. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t even speak into his head, but her ex
pression said not to squander the gift.

  He changed the subject, glancing at Nuria to find her staring at him. “How long have you all been here? I must have been dead to have slept through the commotion.” After all, Nuria was already dressed in the clothes his family brought. Clean jeans and a form-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt he would thank Adriana for purchasing later.

  “About an hour,” his mother replied, pushing away from the table. “And we need to get going. Your father’s picking you up at ten, by the way. He wanted me to tell you.”

  The tension that wafted from Nuria at that announcement filled the room. Did anyone else notice? If they did, they kept it to themselves.

  After his mother hugged Nuria, both his sisters followed suit, and then they were all out the door as if it were suddenly urgent that they get going.

  As the front door snicked shut, Nuria stood, grabbed everyone’s empty mugs, and headed for the sink where he was standing.

  She nudged him out of the way so she could load the dishwasher.

  The temptation to touch her was too great to ignore. He’d been up only a few minutes and found himself disappointed that she wasn’t in his bed. It had also taken great restraint to walk casually into the room and not go directly to her side to kiss her.

  But now everyone was gone, and he set his mug next to the sink, grabbed her by the waist, and rounded the open dishwasher to press her against the counter. “Need to kiss you,” he whispered, setting his forehead against hers.

  She licked her lips, not denying him with words or body language.

  Taking the opening, he angled his head to one side and slanted his mouth over hers. Coffee. Danish. Nuria. Delicious.

  His body came alive, as it did every time he kissed her. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was getting worse.

  When her hands landed on his waist and then smoothed around to squeeze his ass, his knees nearly buckled. He leaned into her, pressing his cock against her belly.

  Damn she was perfect.

  The kiss alone was enough to bring him to his knees, but then she did something she hadn’t done yet. She intentionally opened her mind to him.

  He tentatively stepped inside. Emotion flooded through him as he grasped the extent of her conundrum. His lips stopped moving, and he righted his face so their foreheads touched, their noses touched, their lips still touched. But they were no longer kissing. They were breathing heavily in sync, staring into each other’s souls and reading each other’s thoughts.

  He knew she was tiptoeing into his mind at the same time, both of them nervous about what they would find.

  He swallowed and licked his lips, licking hers in the same swipe.

  It dug into his heart that she was so sad and happy and angry and horny and frustrated and lonely and eager and willing and unwilling and excited and disappointed and hopeful at the same time.

  No wonder she was hot and cold every moment. He couldn’t blame her. And he wished he could erase the painful parts and help her focus on the happy parts. But she needed time. Perhaps an unimaginable amount of time. Which he would give her.

  A tear ran down her face to land on the spot where their lips met. He could taste the salt and hated being the cause of her pain.

  “You take way too much of the blame,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Do I?”

  “You misunderstand me. It’s not so much that I blame you or even that I can’t forgive you. It’s that I can’t forget.”

  He couldn’t respond. It hurt profoundly. He understood. He did. But he couldn’t fix it, and that cut deep.

  Her fingers wiggled into his pockets, holding him closer. “I like when we connect like this. It soothes me.”

  He didn’t think she was soothed in the slightest after traipsing through her head. It would seem she was the opposite of soothed. If this was calm Nuria, he hated to see what stressed Nuria looked like.

  He felt a grin curve her mouth up against his, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m a little flighty. It’s always messy in there. If you want to see it, you’ll have to learn to live with it.”

  That sounded hopeful.

  It rang of a future together.

  A resigned future? He wasn’t sure.

  “You’re scared,” she stated, nibbling his lower lip.

  “Petrified.” He’d never been more afraid in his life. What if she left him? What if she wanted to move to Saskatchewan and never come back? She had mentioned her intention to go to school there.

  She stopped tasting him to speak again. “Will it help if I promise not to run without telling you?”

  He breathed her in, every inch of him demanding that he claim her. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  He had to admit it was a concern. After all, she’d run from him before and never looked back.

  “You do realize I was fifteen, right?” she said in response to his unvoiced concern. “I was hardly in control. My parents did what they thought was best.”

  He slid his hand up into her loose hair and tipped her head back. “Tell me about that day. After, I mean. After you escaped the barn.”

  She nodded, sobering. “I shifted behind your parents’ home and ran deep into the woods for about an hour. I needed to get as far away from your brother as I could. As if distance would erase what happened.”

  It was ironic that Austin had done the same thing at the same time—run, far and hard and fast to get away from what he thought he’d seen. They could have easily encountered each other. Instead, he met Isaiah that day. “Go on.”

  “Finally, I went home. But I was still so upset there was no way to hide it. I was shaking and tears were flooding my face when I walked in the back door.” She took a deep breath. “My mother met me in the kitchen, and I collapsed to the floor. Something about facing another person made it worse.”

  He held her head firmly, his fingers buried deep in her hair. “Nuria…”

  “When I finally managed to tell her what happened, she fell apart. She called my father at work, he came home. They wanted to contact the council or at least call your parents, but I wouldn’t let them. I was humiliated.”

  Austin couldn’t breathe.

  She lowered her eyes and her voice. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to find out.”

  “Why?” It hurt so badly.

  She sighed, lifting her gaze back to his, pulling the strength to continue from deep inside. “If you didn’t care, I didn’t want to know about it. If you did care, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  He nodded, swallowing the horrible lump in his throat. She made sense.

  “Before I knew what was happening, my parents were loading the car in the dark.”

  “Baby…” He nuzzled her nose, squeezing his eyes closed against the horror.

  “I was still sitting on the kitchen floor.” She tugged her hands from his pockets and grabbed his forearms next to her head, shaking him. In a louder voice, she repeated herself. “I was still sitting on the kitchen floor, Austin.”

  He choked up.

  “My parents loaded the car with only what we could take, and then my mom wiped my face with a damp cloth and helped me up. Before I knew it, I was lying in the back seat, still sobbing, and we drove away.”

  He drew her closer. There wasn’t much distance left between them, but he smashed his body tighter against hers. He tucked her head under his chin.

  “It’s not like he raped me,” she continued against his chest, obviously needing to get more of it out. “He didn’t even touch any of my bare skin where it counted most. He groped me everywhere while whispering stupid shit in my ear. It left me feeling dirty and violated anyway.”

  “Of course it did. You don’t have to quantify it. Antoine is an asshole of the largest variety. It was abuse, no matter how far it went.” Though he was glad his brother hadn’t succeeded in actually raping her. Not that he in any way meant to diminish her experience. No woman should have to go through the pain of attempte
d rape or any sexual experience they didn’t consent to.

  “Here’s the crazy part,” she continued, pushing off his chest to meet his gaze. “My parents never spoke of it after that night. When we got in the car, my father was filled with rage. He made his only comments in a few succinct paragraphs and never mentioned it again.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for me to ever have to see your brother again. He visualized accusations and fights and disagreements in the entire town and having to call upon the Arcadian Council to prosecute and possibly alienating our family and hurting yours and ruining friendships and perhaps even losing and being called a liar and living with that pain.” She rambled so fast it was hard to keep up, but he got it.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said for the millionth time.

  “I know you are.” She nodded. “I was fifteen, Austin. I didn’t make the choices myself. My parents made them for me. Even though I begged them not to tell anyone, they didn’t have to listen to me. They could have called the council. They could have called your dad. But they chose to take me away from everything instead. And I’m not sure they were wrong. Do you know how many women in this country are scorned for accusing a man of rape?”

  “Yes. I’m sure it’s horrifying.”

  “My dad didn’t want me to go through that. It could have been a battle of Antoine’s word against my word. Also, people could have poo-pooed it as if it was nothing since I got away and there was no penetration. Or worse—they could have blamed me, saying I asked for it or teased him or who knows what. Women’s rights with regard to sexual assault are horrifying in this country, and they were worse fifteen years ago.”

  He felt her pain. Deeply. He’d give anything to erase it. “You’re right. When you put it that way, I can understand why your father made that choice. And I don’t blame him. It took courage, more courage than I’ll probably ever have.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes I look at it and think it was the easy way out. We ran instead of fighting the hard fight.”

 

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