"I know what I'm getting into."
"Do you?" he purred. Teasing. Licking. Biting. "I'm not like other men. Think you can handle it?"
"Oh, hell, yeah," she said, and pressed harder against him. Her legs were starting to tremble, the cut starting to throb.
He eased her back onto her feet. Knelt at eye level with her core. Second time today he'd done that. This time she felt wild, carnal, anything but embarrassed. She thrust her hips forward. "Do you know what you're getting in to?" she teased.
"I'm about to find out." He grasped her totally ruined linen pants in both hands and tore them from the waist, shredding them off her body. Gemma barely had time to react when he had plunged his face into the sopping wet black lace of her panties.
"God, you smell so good."
She arched her back, self aware for an instant, then grabbed handfuls of his curls as he yanked aside the lace and plunged his tongue far into her. His fingers followed, spreading her wide, exposing her clit, her pussy, his tongue following the line of her opening, dipping deep inside and lapping forward like an animal, pausing to suck like a man on her clit, making her buck and moan. She clutched his hair, ground herself in his face.
"More," she moaned. "Take me. Take all of me." Her eyes were closed and the scents of hay and horses and cowboys filled her senses.
The scent of bear.
His thumbs came down over her clit. She bit back a scream, pulled on his hair. "I want to touch you. I want to taste you."
"Patience," he muttered into her.
She didn't have any. She pulled away from him, trying to get to his jeans, his fly, her fingers grazing his cock through the denim but he was too strong. He spun her around, making her laugh, said, "Not yet, my lovely," and pressed his still clad cock into the crack of her ass, pressing aside the last of the black lace, making her pant and moan. Her breasts pressed hard into the wall and she rubbed them there, seeking every sensation, every feeling. Her own hand traveled down the front of her body, her fingers sinking into her own pussy.
"Yeah, show me where you want me," he growled into her ears and she wanted to laugh, wanted to run her hands over her entire body to show him what she wanted.
She heard the zipper on his jeans, and turned back. "Not fair. Not yet. Not without me seeing."
He grinned, gold eyes blazing. "You are greedy." He sounded impressed.
She answered with her own growl, tearing open the snap button denim button-down and exposing his chest. The muscles weren't ripped – there was a layer of insulation over the muscles, making his chest amazingly thick, strong, hugely muscled, like a classical statue. She ran her hands over it, then ran her nails over it, hard, leaving trails, following the red lines with her tongue, leaving him shiny with her saliva even as she worked his belt buckle, grinding her backside against the wall for lack of sensation. His jeans parted.
His cock was enormous, thick, full, hard as any she'd ever had. Her fingers met but just barely when she wrapped her hand around it and slid it all the way to the base, leaving the proud crown out where she could lean down and wrap her lips around it.
He gasped, pulled away. "You'll have me coming doin' that," and even as she said, "That's the idea," he had pulled her up, his mouth on hers, tasting of her. His tongue took her mouth, his teeth grazed her lips. She ran her nails down his back, under his shirt.
He turned her again, facing the wall, rubbed himself on her ass. When she pressed against him, hard, he pulled away and tore off the last of the lace. She was naked from the waist down, hot and wet and aching and she pressed herself to him, let him drag her hips into his.
His cock nudged her opening. So hard, so hot, and she was so wet and ready. Even so, the size of him sliding in made her catch her breath, then catch her lip between her teeth. He thrust hard and sank into her up to his balls. His breath on her neck was hot as the bear’s breath. She shuddered. The hands on her breasts, kneading hard, pinching her nipples, were totally human.
She shoved herself back into him, pressing hard, taking him as far as she could, as deep as possible before they both started to rock. She could feel him in every inch of her, pressing, thrusting, bringing wave after wave of pleasure until her knees were too weak to hold her and he pulled her around to face him, forced her legs up around his waist again.
Pulling her a little farther from the wall he lengthened her body so her upper back pressed against the wall, her legs around his waist, his cock sunk as deep in her as he could be.
She could see the sweat on his forehead, the growl on his lips. His eyes were deep, dark gold, watching her as she writhed in another orgasm, feeling the liquid between them overflow. Her legs were wet with their mingled juices when she saw his face change, the look of concentration gone, his eyes half closing as his own massive orgasm shook him.
Colby pumped his hips, giving her ever drop, filling her until Gemma clawed at his shoulders and came one more time.
When he let go of her legs, she slid down the wall and splayed out on the floor. Colby still stood, one hand on the wall above her, his jeans still half on, his cock still half hard. She let her eyes close and reached one hand up to guide him down to the floor beside her.
"We can't stay here long," he said.
"No," she agreed.
"People will come along and find us."
"Yes," she agreed, and this time managed to open her eyes. He was watching her, an expression of mingled lust and maybe love on his face. She thought something had just started today, not just the events of the day, but events setting the stage for days to come.
At the same time, other things had ended. Gemma had no intention of running off with the rodeo, going all country and all bull riders, all cowboy, but she thought she might end up in a few of the cities that Colby did if he didn't invite her to go with. Somehow she didn't think he'd mind.
The door to the past had finally closed, too. Not with a bang. But as a gift. She'd loved her childhood. She'd run in part because it wasn't there anymore and in part because she wanted something new and turned her back on childish things.
But it hadn't been a bad childhood. This didn't mean she had to embrace the lifestyle.
She just didn't have to shut it out completely, either.
It might be nice to see her dad again.
Introduce him to the new man in her life.
"You planning to stay around a while?" Colby asked her as if reading her mind.
His words were too close to her thoughts. he had to mean something else. "I've got to try and get that other interview," she said. As if she were the consummate professional. On the concrete floor. With no pants. She started giggling.
He gave her a patient look. "I meant, you going to be around the circuit for a while?"
She met his eyes, wondering what he was asking.
"I mean, if most of your interviews are by phone, doesn't much matter where your body is, does it?" He sweetened the offer with a stroke of his hand over her bare leg.
She shivered. Not only was the door to the past closed, the door to the future was opening.
Colby stood effortlessly and held out a big calloused hand.
Gemma slipped her hand into his. "You were going to give me a ride home," she said. "Let's talk about it on the way."
He looked just slightly uncertain.
She grinned. "I have to pack, don't I?"
END
Alec
Secret Baby Bears I
by
Becca Fanning
Prologue
“Hammer, Smith, & Partridge” hung over the front door, a creaky, faux-antique sign that swung in the breeze.
The five men looked at each other.
“Nervous?” Alec, the biggest of the bunch, looked around at the others.
Jackson shook his head. “Nah, man,” he said with a grin, flexing one of his giant biceps. “I’m sure this is nothing.”
Rust and Clay exchanged glances. “I don’t really know what we’re doing here,” Clay
said after a moment. “Did you guys get a weird voicemail, too?”
Rock laughed. He was the youngest of the group; prone to never taking things too seriously. He grinned, and then said: “No fuckin’ idea, man.” He smirked. “You know, they never found out about what I did with that police car when we were all in college.”
“This can’t be about that,” Alec replied. “That was over seven years ago. I got a message, too, but I couldn’t understand what the damn secretary was saying.”
A hush settled over the group. Alec took charge and led the way inside. The doorway was so low that all of the men had to hunch down as they passed through. Inside was dark, a bit cramped and dusty. An elderly secretary sat behind a massive oak desk, scribbling something on a legal pad. When she looked up at the group of men, a slight blush washed over her wrinkled features.
“Hello, boys,” she said with a smile. “Are you here to meet with Mr. Partridge?”
The men all exchanged a look. “Something like that,” Alec said. “We all got this message-“
“Oh, yes,” the secretary said, clearly more flustered than before. With surprisingly nimble fingers, she searched through a stack of papers on her desk. “You’re right on time,” she added, glancing up quickly. “Mr. Partridge is in his office. He’s expecting you.”
The secretary got up and skittered across the room. She seemed nervous, like she was expecting something to jump out and bite her. As she knocked on the door labeled ‘Partridge,’ Alec glanced at her desk and read the word printed on a folder: “Speculon Labs.”
“Come in!” A booming voice sounded from Partridge’s office. The men went in, single file, and arranged themselves around the spacious room. Like the front office, it was a bit dusty, but Partridge had the shades thrown open and sun was streaming through the windowpanes.
“What’s all this about?” Alec cleared his throat and settled against the wood-paneled wall. “We all got calls, telling us to come here…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “I mean, could you tell us why you wanted us to come in? All at once?”
Partridge turned to face the group. He was an elderly man with longish, tufted white hair and a silk bow-tie at his throat. Despite his old age, youth twinkled in his clear, blue eyes.
“Yes,” he said, clasping his hands together in his lap. “No doubt you recall donating sperm to the genetic research project at Dodson University?”
Chapter One
Talia stood at the front of the classroom, her hands poised in front of her. “Class, settle down,” she called in a mild, calm voice. “We’re about to begin for the day.”
All of Talia’s students loved Ms. Roberson. Even the rowdy ones could always be brought to order with a stern look or a word of encouragement. Talia was a natural teacher, and it showed. This was her third year at Rickard Elementary, and even though she’d missed the kids over the summer, Talia wasn’t exactly glad to be at school that morning. Recently, her life had become a mountain of stress. Her son, James, was starting to exhibit behavior considered rather abnormal for a two-year-old boy. She could barely leave him alone for a second before he’d make a mess of trouble; lately, his favorite thing to do was chew on the new kitchen cabinets that Talia’s landlord had installed the previous year.
That was another thing. Talia’s landlord, Danny, wasn’t just a landlord. He was her ex-boyfriend. They had been college sweethearts, and Talia had honestly thought they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. All her life, she’d wanted children, and she and Danny had worked so hard to get pregnant together. But when it hadn’t happened in a year, they’d gone to see a fertility specialist. To Talia’s shock (and horror), Danny was found to be infertile.
“Ms. Roberson! Ms. Roberson!” One of Talia’s students ran up to her, excitedly flapping his arms in the air. “I drew you a picture!”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Talia said, a little absentmindedly. “Thank you!” She crouched down to her student’s height and looked over the drawing. “Are these…bears?”
“Yeah!” The boy grinned. “Mom and me went to a wildlife preserve over the weekend! And we saw bears!”
Talia laughed politely behind a hand. “I think you mean a reserve,” she said softly. “preserves are like jam, what you put on toast.”
“Toast bears!” The boy laughed and ran back to his desk.
Talia stood up. Her head was beginning to ache, and something deep down inside her told her that this was going to be an unusually long Monday. She’d stayed up all night worrying about her situation.
When they’d found out that Danny wouldn’t be able to make Talia pregnant, Talia had been devastated. Danny wanted a second opinion, and a third, and a fourth, and Talia didn’t want to be the one to point out that the first doctor was probably right. They went to see other doctors, anyway, and they all had the same result: no biological children for Danny.
Talia was at a loss. She’d never expected to have this problem, and she felt like her time was beginning to run out. Even though she was only twenty-one, her own mother had experienced fertility problems later in life. Talia knew that if she wanted to have more than one child, she’d have to start immediately.
One weekend, when Danny was out of town, Talia went to a sperm bank. She spent hours poring over the profiles, and eventually selected sperm from an engineer with a master’s degree in astrophysics. I want great things for you, Talia had said to her lower belly, closing her eyes and wishing hard. I’ll do anything to make sure you succeed.
“Ms. Roberson!” One of the kids yelled, startling Talia out of her reverie. “Ms. Roberson, it’s reading time!” The rest of the kids cheered as Talia made her way to the front of the class. Each morning, she began with ‘reading time’ – ten or fifteen minutes of reading aloud from a chapter book. The kids loved it; this week the book was Swiss Family Robinson.
Suddenly, Talia heard the high-pitched whine of an alarm. Her breath choked in her throat as she gazed wildly around the classroom. No! Talia thought in a panic. We’re not having a drill today! I didn’t know anything about a drill today!
“In your special positions, class,” Talia called, struggling to be heard over the whine of the alarm. Some of her students were clearly terrified, with wide open eyes and their hands shoved in their mouths. To her relief, the more alert students got down on their hands and knees, crawling under their desks. Talia had to run around the room, helping the rest to their “places.” Secretly, Talia hated these drills. They didn’t do anything but make her students panic, and it was doubly hard to get the class back on track after they ended.
“And you just had to do this first thing in the morning,” Talia grumbled under her breath as she took her place towards the back of the classroom by the door. The alarm was still ringing a klaxon shriek and she winced as her head began to throb. Surveying the classroom, she tried to keep her eyes on all of the kids at once. To her immense relief, they were all taking the drill seriously: each one of them was curled up in the fetal position, and no one was goofing off.
From where Talia was standing, she could see that the lights in the hallways had been turned off. Fear and panic rose in her throat; that wasn’t normal protocol. Normal protocol called for the alarm to be disabled after only two minutes, and then a pulse would sound. That pulse was the teachers’ cue that all had returned to normal.
But the alarm was still sounding, and Talia was sure that it had been over two minutes. A sound was coming from the hall, a booming sound, almost like a tiny earthquake. Talia’s heart thudded in her chest. It almost sounded like – no! It couldn’t be! Talia was aware than she’d begun to shake, but she looked out over her class and forced a wide smile on her pretty face.
Clay (BBW Secret Baby Bear Shifter Romance) (Secret Baby Bears Book 4) Page 16