MARS (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 1)

by Becca Fanning

  The difference between her words and her body language were incongruous, but he withheld his surprise and in his gentlest tone, said, “You’re in my room at the clubhouse.”

  Her eyes flared open. “I know you didn’t drug me. You didn’t have time,” she murmured, mostly to herself and the room but he stiffened nonetheless.

  “I would never harm you, Mate.”

  She licked her lips, but the movement was slow and he sensed her mouth was dry. Getting to his feet, he moved over to the mini fridge he had loaded up with water and protein shakes. Grabbing a bottle, he crossed the room, opened the bottle, and handed it to her.

  Annette accepted it after she wriggled into a seated position. When she’d taken a sip, she stared up at him with huge green eyes that about scored his soul. “You said I was your mate.”

  He nodded. “I did.”

  She peered down at her wrists, studied the lines with a curiosity that was almost morbid as she raised her hand to study each individual link, then whispered, “And this is proof of that.” There was no question to her tone. It was a statement. Almost as though her calmness freaked her out, she rattled off, “I don’t know why I’m not screaming. I should be panicked as hell.”

  “This is right. Your body and your mind are in accord.”

  “You’re too tall,” she complained, her neck was tilted way back so she could meet his eyes.

  A flush stained his cheeks and he ducked down to sit next to her on the bed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Annette shook her head, waving away his embarrassment. “I don’t understand. How can an outlaw have a mate?”

  The flush returned, darker this time. He was an outlaw. A sorry piece of shit for any woman, never mind his mate. Shame had him moving again, getting up from the bed to head for a window. He stared out onto a whole lot of nothing. A dust bowl. Except in the distance, the bowl of emptiness was broken up by the tiny hollers of a train as it crossed the boundary of MC territory.

  Quiet settled as he looked out, and she whispered, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  There was no accusation in her voice, no fear. That wiped away some of his concern. At least she didn’t think he was going to hurt her just because he was a rough ass biker. Now that would have killed him.

  “You didn’t offend me. The truth should never offend.”

  “Even though it often does.” She sighed. “I know so little about your culture, your way. What I do know comes from Shifter romances.”

  The way she said that had his lips twitching. “Such disgust for something you obviously enjoy. Why read them otherwise?” he asked, finally turning around to face her.

  Embarrassment had her eyes glinting, the green turning stormy. “Guilty pleasure,” she confessed. “Apparently it’s all bullshit anyway because there’s nothing about this in anything I’ve ever read.” Annette stared down at her wrist. “This is freaky as hell.”

  “Proof you’re mine,” he denied immediately, striding back over to her to pick up her hand. He let his thumb trace over the thin band and watched her shudder, eyelids fluttering with the power of that tiny caress.

  “This is crazy,” she whispered, staring up at him with those huge emerald orbs that he felt sure could see all the way clear to his soul.

  “The best kind of crazy,” he replied, his voice gruff. He turned her hand over, baring the tender underside of her wrist and her vulnerable palm, and pressed a kiss to both. His beard was rough and it scratched the soft skin, making him wince with guilt—somewhere else he was lacking.

  She seemed to read his mind because she leaned up, using her free hand to trace over his chin and jaw. At her first, voluntary touch, his bear went wild. Sensation after sensation ricocheted through him until he had to bow his head, close his eyes, and just let his body absorb the mystery of those first hesitant touches between mates.

  “Are you okay?”

  He responded to her low murmur with a grunt. Not exactly articulate but it was all he was capable of. She chucked him under the chin, urging his head up. When he knew they’d be on the same level, he opened his eyes and looked at her. Really looked.

  “I’m not the mate you deserve,” he told her gruffly, “But I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”

  Chapter Three

  Annette blinked at Mars, then reared back a little. “How do you know what I deserve?”

  The question came from out of nowhere.

  Technically, she figured she deserved more than a high-up brother in an MC which was starting to foray into human trafficking… her mom would go apeshit if she even saw Mars’s bike, never mind the cut that came as part and parcel. But…

  Dammit, this should have been all wrong, but it didn’t feel that way.

  For the first time in months, the only time she’d found any peace was on the back of Mundo’s bike as they’d driven to the diner joint where she’d first ‘seen’ Mars. The instant she’d climbed off the hog, it had returned as she’d expected it to. Only interest in the story and what was going on had diminished it any.

  Now, with Mars in front of her, looking ashamed and uncomfortable and somehow hopeful, that constant noise she’d been living with had dissipated.

  It had always been a white noise, granted. She didn’t hear fucking voices after all. But that ceaseless cacophony of sound had affected her actions. Skewed her judgments. She’d seen things and reacted oddly. Almost like the PTSD had blanketed her senses so going through life was a hundred times harder than it had been before. Add to it the hearing issues that stemmed from the IED explosion she’d been involved in, which affected her balance, and it was no wonder Annette sometimes didn’t feel safe enough to leave bed on a morning.

  But here, with Mars, that blanket felt as though it had been ripped off. Her senses were clamoring once more, like they were fully awake now. It was the weirdest feeling.

  Before the IED blast, regardless of the freaky band around her wrist, she’d have stormed off in a snit. Mated? To a criminal? To a man who skirted the law and flouted the moral compass of society? Yeah, she wouldn’t have been happy. She’d broken the odd law, twisted it around her finger to get a good story, but she wasn’t an out-and-out criminal…

  However this was after the blast. Not before. And this man was dunking her in an ocean of peace she hadn’t known for too long. She didn’t care what he was or what he was involved in. She just cared that for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Annette felt calm.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, just as gruff as before. “You deserve more than what I am. That’s a given.”

  “I’ve done things I’m not proud of,” she told him, somehow wanting to ease the pain she herself had caused by asking a stupid question. She gulped at the memory of the man she’d had to kill, the men who had been killed protecting her and her team. “I’m no innocent.”

  “A fine pair we make,” he teased a little.

  “At least we’re honest.” She jerked a shoulder. “My only problem is this trafficking business, Mars. I don’t…”

  Mars held up a hand to stall her. “I wanted to bring a halt to this trafficking shit Jackson, our President, has gotten us mixed up in before I even knew you existed. Now, we’ll do it together. I’ll give you more information than I would have done before…” He cleared his throat. “It will be my mate gift to you.”

  Her smile was slow but heartfelt. “Thank you.” When he ducked his head, she reached for his hand. “Can you tell me what’s going to happen?”

  “With the bond?” When she nodded, he said, “I’ll always be honest with you, Annette. Even if it’s not in my best interests.” With a finger, he trailed the band on her wrist again. “This is here for forty-eight hours. It’s an identifier, but once the bond is settled into place, it becomes permanent.”

  “How does it settle? Sex?” she asked, trying not to blush and feeling the heat blossom in her cheeks regardless.

  “Yeah. Sex.” He gulped. “One time is all it takes t
o cement it in place so you need to be sure of what you’re doing when you accept me. Our lives will entwined whether you come to love me or hate me.” He lifted her wrist up and said, “You see how it’s so vibrantly red?”

  “I do,” she told him, her voice a low hush that matched the almost worshipful note in his tone.

  “That means we’ve a strong bond. If you die once the bond is fixed, I’ll die soon after. I probably won’t want to live if you pass while we’re together so that’s not something I’m bothered about.”

  “What about me? What if…” She bit her lip. “Your life is quite dangerous, I assume. You’re in an MC, after all.”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t work the same way. You’ll survive, but you won’t be happy. And it’s unlikely you’ll find someone else to love. You might settle, but you won’t find peace until you’re with me again in the After.”

  “Wow, when you said you were going to be honest, you weren’t lying.”

  He shrugged. “No point. I don’t like lies. They get you into more shit than they’re worth. Plus, you could talk to any Bear in this MC. They wouldn’t mean to tell you, but they’d give the game away. You’re an investigative reporter, Annette. Somehow I know you could worm out the truth without trying too hard.”

  She studied him a second, appreciating his candor. This boded well. The way he was treating her like an equal made it easier to feel at ease with this whole crazy situation. “The decision rests with me, doesn’t it? You’re all in. I can sense it.”

  That had him snorting. “Sugar, you’re my one and only. If you’d seen the crowd outside, the guys who wanted to see you because you’re a ‘mate’… you would understand a little more. Shifters get one shot at this. One. If we fuck up and push our mates away before the bond cements, then that’s hard cheese. We’ve lost her forever. We’ll still be tied, but she won’t be.” He swallowed. Hard. “I’m really praying I don’t fuck this up. I’ve waited eighty-two years for you, I don’t want to live a life having known you and then knowing that I lost you too.”

  Annette blinked at him. “I wouldn’t want you to live with that either.”

  When she started to lean forward, her intention to kiss him, he reared back and blew out a breath. “I need you to be certain, Annette. Real certain. There’s no going back.

  “I can try to be a better man, but this, here, it’s all I know. All I’ve ever known. This trafficking shit has caused dissension in the MC. It’s likely, if I handle this with care, I’ll become Prez. My life ain’t gonna separate from this world just because you’re my mate. It’s in my blood. Just like writing is in yours.

  “We don’t have to live here. We can live apart from the club, but you need to accept the MC. If you can’t—” He swallowed, then shook his head, apparently losing his ability to speak.

  She appreciated his honesty, even in the face of knowing what he’d lose by telling her the truth. But the crazy part was, that honesty enabled the first unfurling of trust to blossom.

  Though his words could hurt him in the long run, he’d still spoken true.

  That, and that alone, was a testament to his character. To who the man was.

  And suddenly, even though this morning she hadn’t even known him, Annette needed to kiss him, to feel his skin against hers, more than she needed to breathe.

  She reached over for him and he seemed to understand the need coursing through her, seemed to share it. The most powerful feelings she’d ever experienced, and they were shared. Mutual.

  Somehow, that seemed to ramp up their power, turbocharge each sensation until she felt as though her nerves were buzzing like they’d been electrocuted. When their lips touched, she moaned. A mewl escaped her when he swept his tongue between her lips, claiming her mouth with his own.

  And that’s how it felt.

  A claim.

  She pulled back a little and whispered, “I have things you need to know too, Mars.”

  He rested his forehead against hers, then lent forward a little to brush their lips together. “They don’t matter, Annette. Whatever problems you have, whatever you feel we need to discuss, we will. But if they’re important to you, then they’re important to me. I’ll deal with whatever you throw at me. You’re mine. Flaws and all. Just as I’m yours.”

  A shudder wracked her frame at his earnestness and she pushed forward, her momentum knocking him back onto the bed. Had she felt afraid, in anyway scared, she could have taken that opportunity to scramble off the mattress and run out of the bedroom. But not a single inch of her felt fear. If anything, she wanted him inside her more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

  His chuckle made her heart sore but she leaned over him, straddling his hips, before she let their lips collide once more. Even though she was on top and he on the bottom, he fucked her mouth. She knew he was in control, and that their time in this position was limited. So, Annette decided to enjoy it. She sensed his urgency; it vibrated under his skin, but she could also sense his need to keep her happy, to fulfill her, to make this mating memorable.

  Warmth flooded her and came to pool at her belly. Need and desire unfurled through her veins, and it was with relief that he finally grabbed her to him and rolled them over so that he was on top of her once more.

  She parted her legs wider to encompass him comfortably, and his heavy weight pushed her into the mattress while nudging her center with his cock.

  The heavy length of him branded her even through her thin trousers and his jeans, and a mewl of delight broke free from her lips as she felt all of him against her.

  “I need you,” she half-garbled, her hands tugging at his cut, needing it off, needing everything off.

  He reared back slightly to pull it off and hurl it against the floor. He stayed there, tugging his soft cotton shirt overhead too and the instant her eyes collided with the thick ropes of muscle on his belly, she felt like weeping. Either that, or fighting him to get back on top again so she could lick his stomach.

  His hands fumbled with his fly, and a sigh of relief escaped him when he grabbed a hold of his cock then pulled it between the zipper.

  Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth at the sight of him. All of him. His cock was large, and it pulsed, bobbing before her eyes with his need. The tip was shiny with pre-cum, and as she saw another bead escape, a sob escaped her. It was panic-ridden. That bead was a waste.

  She needed it inside her.

  The need was imperative. It was beyond her control. Some atavistic part of her, that inner cave woman she’d tried to tame with a Paleolithic diet—and often failed—was roaring with the need to be claimed.

  “Get my trousers off,” she demanded, fumbling at the waistband, almost ripping off the button to her own fly with her desperation.

  He made a hushing sound, then leaned forward to kiss her. “Calm down, my love,” he told her. “There’s no rush.”

  His cock belied that. It was so freaking red, it was close to purple.

  And by God, she needed that inside her. She needed every inch deep in her core.

  If she didn’t get it, she felt sure she’d go mad. And madness was already riding her. It was there in her panic-ridden fingertips, in the half-sobs that spewed from her lips as she tried to free herself from the trappings of her clothes.

  When his lips touched hers, this time with gentleness, tears burned behind her eyelids. They slowly fell as he made love to her mouth.

  His hands moved between them and easily maneuvered the button from her fly. The zipper descended and carefully, he adjusted her grip on his hips so that he could work the waist of both her trousers and her panties down. She helped by raising her butt. Mars left a last kiss on her lips before heaving up and in a slick move, dragging her pants down one leg, then returning between her thighs with mere seconds having passed.