Grizzly Mountain (Arcadian Bears Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, fuck.”

  “You obviously have no intention of turning her over to the Arcadians at any point.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Guess you didn’t tell them that.”

  “Nope.”

  “Hang on, I’m pulling up now.” Wyatt cut off communication as Isaiah heard his truck pull up to the front of the house.

  The four enormous bears out front wandered closer to the truck, sniffed at it, confronted Wyatt as he stepped down from the cab, and then returned to their posts. The darn Alpha grizzlies parked themselves in bear form at all four corners of the property. They made it look as though they were protecting the inhabitants inside the home, but their main purpose was to make sure Heather Simmons didn’t leave.

  Isaiah opened the front door with a finger to his lips. “She’s asleep,” he whispered.

  Wyatt nodded as he entered with two small suitcases. “Your woman travels light,” he teased as he set them down, keeping his voice low.

  “She’s hardly my woman yet.”

  “Yeah, but I get the impression that’s about to change.”

  “I hope so, but I’m not about to bind myself to her without her full consent, and certainly not without her knowledge.”

  “Even if it means letting the Arcadians take her?”

  The hair on Isaiah’s body stood on end, and he stiffened as he led his brother into the kitchen, farther away from the hallway and thus the master bedroom. “I can’t even ponder that possibility.”

  “Do you think they will?”

  “They seem pretty damn serious,” he stated as he pulled the fridge open and grabbed two pilsners. He handed one to Wyatt.

  “It’s barely noon.”

  “So?” Isaiah frowned at his brother’s smirk.

  Wyatt said no more as he twisted off the top and took a long swig. The jab hadn’t meant he was opposed to drinking at this hour. He was simply pointing out it was unusual for Isaiah. And he wasn’t wrong. Isaiah drank. He enjoyed beer immensely, but Wyatt could usually outdrink him any hour.

  Wyatt lifted the bottle and read the bottom of the label. “When was this one bottled?”

  “Not sure. Stop making fun of me. I have serious problems here.” The damn beer was days old. After all, their family owned the fucking brewery. Glacial Brewing Company. Isaiah did not have old beer in his home.

  Wyatt sobered. “What are you planning to do?”

  “Convince these assholes that Heather isn’t a risk and get them to go home.”

  “And you think that will be successful?”

  “No. It’s just my plan. In reality, I’m probably going to have to come up with a plan B or convince the smoking hot woman currently in my bed to let me bind to her.”

  Wyatt winced. “I don’t envy you.”

  Isaiah took a long swig and set the bottle on the counter. He leaned his ass against the surface and crossed his arms. “I won’t force her. If she doesn’t submit to my plan willingly, I don’t know what I’ll do. Continue to put these guys off I guess.”

  “She might resent you for the rest of your life if you pressure her. And if the council finds out, you could be arrested.”

  “I thought of that too.” He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. How the hell had this situation gotten so fucked up? The woman he was assuredly destined to spend the rest of his life with knew nothing of his species, the magnetic draw he had to her, or the fact that she, too, would be a bear shifter in the near future. When? Today? Tonight? Tomorrow? In a week? When? He had no idea how long it would take for her body to transition.

  Wyatt ambled over to the kitchen table and took a seat, leaning back in the chair as he drank his beer.

  Isaiah watched his brother, forcing himself to remember the comedic way he always described him. Two years older. Two inches taller. With hair two inches longer.

  “I moved her car to Mom and Dad’s,” Wyatt added.

  “Thanks.” There was little else to say.

  Wyatt finished his beer and set the bottle on the table. “I gotta get back to the brewery. With you out of commission for a few days and Dad fending off a barrage of questions from everyone in our pack, the Tarben pack, and the Arcadian Council, someone needs to manage the brewery.”

  “Thanks for covering for me, man. I didn’t even think to ask.”

  Wyatt pushed to standing. He had a wide grin on his face as he crossed toward Isaiah and set a hand on his shoulder. “That’s how I know she’s the one for you. The rest of the world stopped existing the moment you met her.”

  Isaiah didn’t smile back. “Actually, if I’m perfectly honest, the rest of the world stopped existing the moment Montrose opened her car door and I got the first whiff of her essence.”

  “Seriously?” Wyatt was taken aback.

  “Yep. I know it’s not rational. But it happened. My heart was in my stomach as I raced up the mountain to find her. Already I was more attached to her than any female I’ve ever met. When I stepped into her space and saw her small frame huddled under a Mylar blanket on the side of the path, I nearly swallowed my tongue.”

  “That’s powerful.”

  “Yes. And irrational. But it’s still true. She’s mine. I’ve known it the entire day.”

  “Now you have to convince her.”

  “And I will.” Isaiah glanced at the front window. “If the Arcadians let me handle this.”

  “You need to tell her, man.”

  “I know. I will.”

  “Like now. Sooner rather than later.”

  Isaiah nodded. “You gonna let go of my shoulder and get out of here so I can?”

  Wyatt chuckled. “I’m outa here.” He took long strides to cross the room, exit through the front, and shut the door without making a sound.

  Yeah, Isaiah had a lot of work to do. He needed to get started.

  First he had to wake up his gorgeous mate, and then he would face the task of turning her world upside down and inside out.

  »»•««

  Heather blinked her eyes as consciousness sank in. She rolled onto her back, unfurling her body from the tight ball she’d been in. As she allowed herself to peek at her surroundings, she was momentarily stunned to find a man staring down at her. For a heartbeat, she froze. And then her memory filled in the details. “How long was I asleep?”

  “A few hours.” His gaze searched her face and then ran down her body.

  Shit. She was still wearing nothing but a towel. She grabbed the front of it at the spot it was tucked in above her chest to make sure it was covering her. Thank goodness it was huge. It more than wrapped around her, and it was plenty long enough to cover her ass. She thought it reached low enough on her thighs that Isaiah wasn’t getting a sex show.

  When he lifted his head to face her again, she clenched her thighs together. His gaze alone spiked her arousal. Not to mention he looked ready to devour her. He even licked his lips and inhaled slowly as if to control the urge.

  She had been awake all of thirty seconds, and she already craved his touch as strongly as she had before going to sleep.

  “Wyatt brought your things from the motel,” he stated, his deep, sexy voice sending a shiver up her spine. He pointed behind him, and she glanced to see her suitcases against the wall. “You travel light.”

  “The rest of my stuff is being shipped later. I wanted to find a place to live first.” Goose bumps rose all over her exposed arms and legs at the intense way he continued to stare at her. She needed to break the connection before she whipped her towel open and begged him to take her. “I should put some clothes on.”

  He gave a slight nod but continued to look down at her, leaning his hip against the mattress. His hand slowly trailed to the bottom corner of the towel, and he fingered it. He’d removed the flannel shirt from earlier and now wore a tight navy T-shirt.

  She held her breath as she watched him. He wasn’t touching her skin anywhere, but her mind flooded with the memory of
him kissing her earlier. Those giant hands splayed across her back. Those long thick fingers grasping her thighs. His lips. God, his lips.

  While he continued to toy with the corner of the towel, wetness pooled between her legs. Her nipples pebbled and rubbed against the terrycloth, aching to be touched. She gripped the spot where the top corner of the towel was tucked in, applying pressure against her breasts with her forearm, which only made things worse.

  Suddenly, a moan escaped her lips. The moment she realized it, she flushed deeply, batted his hand away with her free one, and swung her legs around so she could sit on the edge of the bed. She barely noticed the pain in her ankle. Her bare thigh rested against his thick, jean-clad one. If she scooted another few inches to hop down from his high mattress, she would expose herself.

  The hand he had been using to toy with the corner of her meager covering reached across and settled on her opposite thigh so that his arm stretched in front of her chest.

  “I need to put some clothes on,” she rasped. Her voice didn’t sound like her own. Apparently some other foreign being had taken over her body and turned her into a nymph. The idea that she was actually dead or in a coma returned full force. If this was Heaven, blessed angels from above. If this was a dream she was having in a deep coma, bless those same angels.

  “You should get dressed. Yes.” He didn’t sound remotely convinced, nor did he move away from her. Instead his hand trailed up her arm, across her shoulder, and along her neckline until the tips of his fingers tickled the underside of her chin.

  She glanced down at the twin claw marks on her arm, surprised to find them looking far less menacing than earlier.

  He turned his body to fully face her, his other hip now leaning against her thigh. “You feel it too, right?”

  She swallowed. Why bother to deny the cryptic question?

  “Heather, tell me you feel it too,” he demanded.

  His tone made her pussy throb. She nodded once.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t next to her, he was in front of her. His thighs were against her closed knees, and his hands landed on the mattress at her sides, forcing her to lean back. His face was inches from hers. His gaze intent. Brow furrowed. Eyes searching hers. His voice was deeper, rough, sexy as hell when he spoke again. “Tell me, baby. Tell me I’m not the only one.”

  She swallowed again and forced her lips to part. Every inch of her body was on fire for him. Literally hot. Even though the temperature in the room was probably not set as high as it felt and the weather outside was early winter cold, she was hot.

  The towel seemed to suffocate her. She gripped it tighter above her chest. Her fingers ached.

  He’d called her baby again. And again, it seeped into her and turned her to mush. A man she met a few hours ago was so far under her skin that she felt as though she’d known him her entire life.

  He lifted one hand, trailing it again up her body to her chin. He held it steady and whispered, “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me the pull is all me, and I’ll back off.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to speak. It seemed like the biggest moment of her life, as if her next words would send her down one of two paths in front of her and determine the tone of their relationship going forward.

  She had no doubt he would indeed back off if she asked him. But she would be lying to both of them if she did so. “I feel it too,” she whispered.

  His eyes slowly closed, and his mouth tipped up at the corners as if he’d just asked her to marry him and she’d given him an unexpected yes. His warm breath hit her face as he exhaled slowly.

  She wanted his lips on hers again with an irrational desperation. She wanted his entire body pressed against her. Damn the consequences. She wanted him to fuck her senseless. Right now. Right here. “Isaiah…” His name trailed off as that one word left her mouth.

  His eyes darted open. “Say that again.”

  “Isaiah?”

  “No. Not like that. Like you said it before. Like you were in the middle of an orgasm.”

  She inhaled slowly, her pussy twitching.

  “Jesus.” He straddled her legs and set his other hand on her lower back while he brought his mouth to hers.

  She sank into him, letting go of the front of the towel to wrap her arms around his neck as though she could trap him against her lips and never let him go. Never mind he outweighed her by almost triple and was strong enough to lift the corner of a car or possibly fight off a grizzly bear.

  The towel held together, a fact she only knew because her heavy breasts rubbed against it agonizingly.

  Isaiah released her chin to drag his hand around to the back of her neck where he threaded his fingers in her hair and tugged her head farther back to deepen the kiss.

  The slight pull was almost painful, but it morphed into a weird sort of pleasure that radiated to her pussy instead. No man had ever claimed her so thoroughly, and she liked it. A lot.

  His tongue danced with hers, tasting every inch of her mouth while the hand on her back flattened over the towel. Every finger pressed into her, holding her, possessing her, demanding she lean into him.

  She wanted more. Her body insisted. She released her grip on his neck to trail her fingers down to his chest until she reached the hem of his T-shirt. As she lifted the cotton material to flatten her palms on his abs, she sighed into his mouth.

  He tugged her head harder as if admonishing her, which only fed the flames and caused her to grip his waist and scoot closer to his body until her legs straightened in front of her and she could press her belly into his erection.

  Damn, he was hard, and if his cock was proportionate to the rest of his body, he would be enormous.

  Isaiah moaned and broke the kiss. At the same time, he released her and jumped back, twisting around so his back was to her.

  She heaved for oxygen, suddenly aware she hadn’t breathed properly for a while. As she slid the rest of the way to the floor, careful to put her weight on the one foot, her left foot rested against the carpet, noticeably less painful than earlier. Her entire body mourning the loss of his touch, she wondered what the hell he’d stopped for. “Isaiah?”

  His shoulders rose and fell with every deep breath, and finally he turned around, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not? I was enjoying myself.”

  “I’m not giving you enough space to exert your own free will. I’m crowding you. You weren’t awake a full minute before I pounced.” He took another step back.

  Her legs shook. This was by far the weirdest relationship she’d ever had. Surreal. The sexiest mountain man alive was playing a dangerous game of hot and cold with her. She couldn’t take it much longer. For one thing, the knot in her belly demanded release. If she didn’t get it soon, she might collapse from the tremble in her pussy.

  “God.” His voice was louder, and he tipped his head toward the ceiling. “I can smell your arousal. It’s like a drug.”

  He can smell my arousal? She leaned back against the edge of the bed to avoid falling.

  He lowered his hands and fisted them at his sides as he met her gaze. “I need to taste you. Please. God, please let me taste you. I swear I’ll keep my jeans on. I won’t let it go any further. But you’re so aroused and I’m so…” He closed his mouth for a second as if thinking and then spoke again, softer. “Please, baby, let me taste you.”

  His words drove her desire up ten notches. Their meaning took longer to sink in. He wasn’t talking about kissing her lips. He wanted to go down there.

  She wasn’t a prude. She’d had boyfriends. She’d had sex—usually bad sex. But no man had put his mouth between her legs.

  Honestly, as insane as it was, she’d never wanted anything more in her life. “Okay,” she murmured.

  In one stride, Isaiah was in front of her again. He grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the bed. With a hand at the back of her neck, he lowered her onto her back and leaned over her.

  She held her br
eath, her heart pounding, not missing the fact that this giant, dominant, demanding man was both out of control for her, while at the same time having enough awareness to see to her comfort.

  He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her lips, her chin. And then he grabbed her wrists and dragged them above her head, pressing them into the mattress. When his face moved lower to nuzzle her neck, chills raced down her body. His teeth grazed her skin as though he intended to bite her. Claim her.

  Claim her?

  He licked the spot he’d touched with his teeth, lapping at her skin.

  Her vision swam with the idea of a vampire biting his victim and then licking the wound to seal it. Too late, however, because his essence was already inside her. She lost that train of thought as his face lowered to her chest, his soft beard dancing across her sensitive skin.

  He nudged her legs apart, carefully avoiding her sore ankle, and nestled his hips between them.

  Cool air hit her pussy, driving her mad. She arched her head back, exposing more of her neck, and moaned. She had never been this close to orgasm with so little contact before. He hadn’t touched her breasts or her pussy.

  But that changed in an instant when he grabbed the corner of her towel with his teeth and jerked it open.

  She gripped his torso with her knees. She was going to self-combust. Had anyone ever died from arousal gone haywire?

  Isaiah’s face lifted a few inches off her chest, and he froze. A second later, he released her wrists, grabbed the sides of the towel, and completely bared her body to his gaze. “Jesus.” He stared at her, his gaze wandering from her chest to her pussy and back.

  Her nipples beaded further, her breasts so swollen they were tight. The wetness between her legs trailed down to her rear.

  When he finally drew his hands in to reverently dance the tips of his fingers across her nipples, she arched her chest and lowered her arms to grab onto him.