Two Tickets To Bearadise

by Chasity Bowlin

  And she was absolutely not hoping to run into, catch sight of, or blatantly ogle her rescuer. Or possibly rip her clothes off, wrap her legs around him, and hump him the same way her great aunt’s chihuahua went after the throw pillows. Even as she said it to herself, her conscience scoffed at her. She was hoping for all of the above, assuming he’d actually meant what he said and hadn’t been trying to spare her battered ego.

  Oh, God. What if he was just being nice?

  If that were true, another run-in with him, up close and in person as her grandmother would have said, and the humiliation truly would be fatal.

  When she reached the small gift shop, she peered inside and then opened the door. The bell tinkled and it sounded deafeningly loud in the empty place. Grabbing one of the small shopping baskets by the door, she darted down the first aisle. It was mostly t-shirts and coffee mugs. Rounding the corner, she found herself at the cooler section that had soft drinks, as well as lunch meat and some frozen foods. Tossing a few items into her basket, she continued her browsing.

  When she turned down the next aisle, she stopped dead in her tracks. There he was. Logan. He was stocking shelves and must have been bent over when she walked in. Which was a shame, really, because seeing him bent over with that absolutely to-die-for rear end would have been a memory to cherish.

  “I thought that was you,” he said.

  “I just rounded the corner! You couldn’t have seen me,” she protested.

  “Your perfume,” he said. “I could smell it.”

  Zoe frowned. She wasn’t wearing perfume. Did she stink? Deciding to change the subject, she pointed to his cart. “Umm, okay. I just needed to get some things for dinner.”

  He looked at her basket at the prominently displayed bag of Cheetos and grinned. “Stocking up on the necessities is always a wise choice.”

  Why did he have to be so hot that it rendered her instantly stupid? “Something like that,” Zoe agreed and made to move past him.

  His hand snaked out and caught her arm. The touch was electrifying. The way his fingers closed gently over her wrist, his thumb moving in a gentle back and forth motion over her rapidly beating pulse. Her eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped her as she looked up into his too-handsome and too-young face. The heat in his gaze was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was an utter miracle that her panties didn’t just catch fire.

  “Don’t rush off just yet,” he said softly and smiled. Not a full-on smile, just a slight tilting of his perfectly sculpted lips at one corner which caused a tiny dimple to appear in his cheek.

  Fuck. Just fuck.

  4

  Logan had reached the momentous decision while standing in her cabin earlier that he was going to have her every way possible. His oldest brother was the unofficial leader of their clan and had decreed that they would not fraternize with guests to avoid complications. He’d never before been tempted to break that rule, but looking at Zoe, it was more than just temptation. It was determination. To hell with Barrett’s rules. And now that she was sober, marginally recuperated, and from the sweet scent wafting from her, clearly willing, there wasn’t anything to stop him. Just to savor it, he drew in another deep breath. There was nothing better than the sweet, sweet scent of a woman who was not just ready to be taken, but eager.

  It wasn’t an opportunity that he intended to pass up. Beautiful, single, honey-scented women did not just drop into a man’s, or a bear’s, lap every day, and he would be a damn fool to ignore that. Still, it was obvious from her expression that she wasn’t quite over the embarrassment she’d suffered that morning. He didn’t particularly understand that; he’d never truly been drunk. As a shifter, the amount of alcohol it would take to get him inebriated was more than he was willing to consume anyway.

  “I can’t stay,” she said.

  Logan stepped forward, not enough to spook her, but enough to crowd her just a little. Instantly, he heard her heartbeat kick up a little, and then felt his own respond in kind when she licked her lips. He’d never seen a sexier woman in his life than Zoe Hawkins. “You have some pressing appointment with the minibar?” he asked with a slow, and what he’d been told was charming, grin. The answering blush that spread of her cheeks was all the answer he needed. He wanted to see color blooming her pretty cheeks for an entirely different reason. Recalling the sexy strip tease she’d almost performed for him that morning, he was more than a little eager for a repeat performance.

  She gave him a baleful stare and tried to step back. Her elbow knocked into a rack of postcards and the whole thing almost tumbled to the ground. She managed to save it, just barely. Even then, a few “Welcome to the Smoky Mountains” cards littered the floor at her feet. “No. Well, I have a book deadline… but that isn’t exactly inspiring me to write.”

  “What’s your book about?” He didn’t really care. He just wanted her to keep talking, to stay close enough to him that he could convince her to let him be a very good distraction.

  For a moment, she looked like a deer in the headlights. Then her lips firmed and she said, “I just came in to get some supplies. Not to get the third degree on my career!”

  He laughed at that. “I didn’t ask you for your yearly salary and tax info. What do you write, Zoe Hawkins? I might want to read one of your books sometime."

  “I highly doubt that,” she fired back, her tone snooty and her nose in the air.

  “I might be a hillbilly, Zoe, but I assure you that I can and do read… more than just roadkill recipes, too.” He wasn’t truly offended. She was hedging for a reason and had her back up like a spitting cat. He figured her reluctance to answer was more about her than about him.

  “I didn’t mean to imply—well, of course, you can read. You intentionally misinterpreted what I said!” Her reply was clipped, but her expression was completely stricken. It was obvious to him she was mortified at having come off as pretentious and uppity, which was exactly what he’d expected.

  Logan watched her draw in a deep breath and then with her gaze averted, she admitted reluctantly. “I write romance novels.”

  “Really?” he asked, his smile widening. “I’ve read a few of them a time or two. They’re not my favorite genre but a good book is a good book. I always figured there’s a little romance in every story… least there is if it’s one worth telling.”

  Watching her blink at him in shock was worth having admitted his shameful teenage secret. He and has brothers had all taken a few turns reading the ancient romance novels their mother had left behind. They skipped around a lot to get to the good parts, but they’d been worth it.

  “You seriously read romance novels?”

  “I have,” he answered honestly. “And I’d be happy to help you with inspiration, Zoe, if you’d let me.”

  She just stood there, staring at him as if she was completely unimpressed. He imagined it was a line she heard often, but he was completely sincere. “I don’t think so,” she said, her tone saccharine sweet and liberally laced with skepticism.

  He knew it wasn’t lack of interest. First, because he smelled her desire and it was driving him crazy. Second, she had the worst poker face of anyone he’d ever seen. Every thought was written plainly over her pretty face. “Yes, you do think so. You wouldn’t have come down here if you hadn’t wanted to see me again, Zoe.”

  She opened her mouth and words flooded out in a torrent just like they had that morning when she’d been drunk and horny as hell. “I admit that I have thought about it. You’re very attractive. Extremely attractive. Better looking than any man ought to be for a woman’s peace of mind. Naturally, good looking men ought never be trusted. My granny always told me that.”

  She paused to take a breath and Logan just nodded and offered an “uh-huh” to keep her talking. As long as she was talking, she wasn’t leaving, and that meant he still had a shot.

  When she’d refilled her lungs to capacity, an act that caused her breasts to lift up beneath the incredibly soft looking sweater she had on
, he glanced down. He couldn’t help it, but he did manage to drag his eyes right back up to her face.

  “But I’m sure you already know that,” she continued. “I’m just as sure that every single female guest and some not single female guests throw themselves at you every time they’re here. Every maintenance call is a pitiful attempt to get you to come snake more than their drain—” Her hand flew up, clamping over her runaway mouth as her eyes widened in what he could only assume was horror at having uttered something so risqué.

  Logan threw his head back and laughed. She wasn’t wrong. “I don’t think I’ve ever had it put quite so bluntly, but you might be on to something. Thing is, Zoe, me and my brothers have a rule here about fraternizing with the guests. And I’ve never even been tempted to break it ‘til now.”

  “Never?”

  He nodded. “That’s right, Zoe. I’m not a rule breaker… That’s never been a thing for me. I figure rules are there for a reason, and most of the time it doesn’t hurt a thing to abide by ‘em. But if I do it this time, if I left you walk out of here without telling you how much I want you—well, that one will hurt."

  “I’m flattered and more tempted than I ought to be,” she admitted. “Especially after what you said this morning. But, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” he demanded

  Her hair had slipped forward, falling into her face. She pushed it back with an irritated gesture and said in a slightly snappish tone, “Because I’m too old for you… or you’re too young for me. However you want to look at it. Either way, I ought to be ashamed of myself.”

  Logan blinked at her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was serious. He realized that she was. “I am legal,” he said. “Been that way for about a decade and a half now.” Shifters healed faster, aged slower, and generally had greater longevity than the general public, but it was a bit early to be explaining that to her.

  “You are not in your thirties,” she said. “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

  That pissed him off. He was a lot of things, but he’d never counted liar amongst them. “Do you want to see my driver’s license? Maybe we can call my brother and you can ask him? Birth certificate might be around here somewhere if I look hard enough. I’m afraid you can’t ask my mother, she’s been gone for a long time now.” The last came out clipped. “I’m not a liar, Zoe. I don’t need to be.”

  Now it was her turn to be on the defensive and she came out swinging. “And I don’t routinely get drunk and proposition men who look young enough to be my—my…,” she trailed off, clearly unable to come up with an appropriate word.

  “Young enough to be your lover? Friend? Boyfriend? Husband? Fuck buddy? What exactly am I young enough or old enough to be to you, Zoe Hawkins?”

  There must have been something in his tone, some predatory note that sent her scurrying back. She set down the basket of items and started to retreat. “I should go. This wasn’t a good idea… I don’t even know why I’m here,” Zoe whispered.

  Logan moved toward her, stalking. In that moment, he could feel the animal inside him clawing to the surface. When he was close enough to her that they stood nearly nose to nose, he whispered softly, “You do know. You came here for the same reason I was knocking on your door this morning—because you want the same thing I do.”

  She didn’t like being cornered. He could see it in the tilt of her chin, the way she squared her shoulders, and tried to look down her nose at him. If he hadn’t been so painfully, achingly hard that he thought it would kill him, he might have thought it was cute. But the need riding him went beyond attraction, beyond just lust. It was primal and the bear in him knew it.

  “What exactly is that?” she demanded.

  Logan had known she would ask. Without a second thought, he grasped her wrist, tugging her forward until her breasts were crushed against his chest, until the sweet scent of her overwhelmed him completely, and until his cock pressed into the softness of her belly and she could feel just how hard he was for her. “This,” he answered, before descending on her parted lips.

  The taste of her was sweeter than he’d imagined, the softness of her lips beneath his was like a spark to tinder. He wanted more. He wanted everything and so did she. Her arms came up, closing around his neck. The hard points of her nipples were impossible to miss, as was the way she arched her hips against him.

  Logan allowed his hands to drift over her soft curves, her back, the indentation of her waist, until he could cup the soft, generous globes of her perfect ass. He lifted her easily, pressing her back against the shelves. Without hesitation she wrapped her legs around him and he could feel the tempting heat of her sex against his denim covered cock. It was like flipping a switch in his brain. All he could think and feel was boiled down to one single word: Mine.

  The bell tinkled above the door. Logan drug his lips away from her long enough to yell out, “We’re closed!”

  “The sign says—”

  “Closed!” he roared.

  Whoever it was clearly thought better of questioning him again. The bell tinkled again as the person made their retreat. Rather than risk another interruption, Logan lowered her feet to the floor, but he didn’t let go of her. He kept her hand firmly in his as he moved toward the door of the shop and flipped the sign around. As an added measure of security, he clicked the lock into place.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. “You’re going to get fired!”

  “I own a third of the mountain,” he said. “They can’t fire me. I’m family… But I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  He grinned. “How long it’s going to take to have your legs wrapped around me again…preferably with no clothing between us this time.”

  Zoe couldn’t think. Hell, she could barely breathe. The idea of being naked with him should have terrified her. He was ripped, with muscles on top of muscles and abs that could be played like xylophone. She had dimples on top of dimples, and she had abs, somewhere. But that wasn’t the first thought that came to her mind. Instead, all she could think about was how good it would feel. Skin to skin. His weight on her, pressing down on her as he drove into her. She wanted it so bad it made her knees tremble.

  “Then you better hurry before I come to my senses,” she said.

  If there was anything else she could have said to spur him on quite so intensely she had no idea what it might be. He moved forward, leaned in, and lifted her up over his shoulder in a classic fireman’s carry. His hands roamed her thighs and her bottom as he strode the short distance to the office door, tucked behind the counter. She might have been upset about the less than romantic and certainly less than flattering pose, but it gave her such an amazing view of his truly impressive ass that any complaint she uttered would only be lip service. Everything about him was perfect. It was like the jeans he wore had been tailor made to fit him and showcase everything that God had given him.

  When she was tossed backward onto the couch with enough force that she bounced, there was no opportunity to complain at all. Before she even stopped jiggling, he was on her. His lips were hungry, his teeth just a shade less than gentle as he nipped at her lips, and his tongue, dear, sweet Lord, his tongue. But it wasn’t just the kiss, it was the fact that his hands were everywhere. If she’d been able to think at all, she might have wondered at just how easily he supported his weight with only one arm. She might have even stopped to consider how easily he’d picked up all two hundred pounds of her and tossed her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing at all. But thought was quickly becoming a thing of the past. It was just sensation as he all but consumed her. Clothes simply vanished beneath his questing fingers, being tossed carelessly aside.

  It wasn’t just hers, she realized, with a start. When he pressed his chest against hers, she noted that his own clothes were gone as well. She wanted to see him, to take in every glorious detail, but that would mean letting go of him. It would also me
an giving reality a chance to intrude. The last thing she wanted was to come to her senses and deprive of herself of what was quickly shaping up to be the most satisfying sexual experience of her life. It would be nice, for once in her damn life, to have someone to say something was better than sex and be able to smile secretively and tell them, “No, it isn’t”. So, instead, she decided to learn his magnificent body by touch.

  The crisp hair that covered his pecs teased her nipples. Her hands roamed over his chest, feeling every rippling muscle, every hard ridge and plane of a body that could have been carved by the Greeks. His thighs moved between hers and instinctively she parted for him. The heaviness of his erection against the soft skin of her inner thigh sparked her desire even more. She was so wet for him that, if she’d had a moment to think about it, she might actually have been embarrassed. He’d barely touched her yet.

  His mouth moved from hers and then blazed a trail of hot kisses down her neck, over the arch of her collarbone. When he closed his lips over one taut peak, laving the hardened bud with his tongue, Zoe let out a soft, keening cry. The heat of his mouth on her was both soothing and maddening. It eased an ache she hadn’t even realized she had, but it only intensified the need that was driving her. Everywhere he touched her, she burned.

  “Please,” she murmured. “I can’t take anymore.”

  “You can,” he growled against her skin, and he nipped at the underside of her breast with his teeth.

  There was an edge of danger with him that should have frightened her, but it didn’t. It only made her want him more. “Logan, I can’t wait!”

  He wouldn’t be hurried. His lips and tongue moved over her breasts, teasing and tormenting until her nipples were so hard they actually hurt.