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

by Becca Fanning

  A blush coated her cheeks because she didn’t feel like one, hiding in her mate’s bedroom rather than confront the bitches Major was about to kick out.

  Huh. Soon, she wouldn’t have to hide. Every cloud, and all that.

  She went to the door which Major opened for her and said, “Good luck with the bunnies.”

  “I’ll need it,” he told her, voice glum.

  They parted ways at the end of the corridor. He headed down to the bar, which was the hang out ground for the bunnies. They tended to congregate there as there was a big TV and plenty of refreshments. Plus, when the guys weren’t off on jobs, they went to the bar. Bunnies were either nymphomaniacs and desperately in need of constant cock, or… hell, Annette didn’t know what they were.

  The way they hung around the brothers was nauseating. It was like they’d hung the moon or something, and though Annette was finding her place here, and though they’d only ever treated her with respect and kindness, she knew they certainly weren’t knights in shining armor. Not even Mars, and she loved him like she’d never loved anyone on this earth.

  As she headed on over to the offices, where most of the work went down, she scanned the rooms for the prospects. Over the week, most of the men had come to her to be introduced. Part of her job was remembering people and names, so it wasn’t too hard for her to look over the crowds of guys and discern the ones she needed.

  The hardest part was, however, scanning the crowds and escaping without them trying to haul her into their conversations.

  This Ursu business was extraordinarily complicated. She still didn’t know what it involved, and every time she tried to raise the topic with Mars, he either changed the subject or kissed her into silence.

  For the first time in her life, Annette felt in over her head. But she wasn’t frightened, and that was the God’s honest truth. She’d been stuck in Mosul, shit-scared when bombs were going off left, right and center, but she hadn’t overwhelmed. She’d been eager for the story, desperate to report it in the right way. The people who lost their lives deserved nothing less than her reporting it with honesty and dignity, and that had been her focus.

  Here, it was the other way around. She wasn’t scared to be surrounded by a bunch of outlaws. She wasn’t scared that said outlaws could turn into fucking grizzly bears. But at the idea of being some kind of matriarch to hundreds of men… now that freaked her the hell out!

  The way they looked at her, it was like they were looking at their mother, and she really didn’t want to be the mommy figure of all these bad ass dudes.

  “You know where Jamming or Pete are?” she asked one group who wanted her to come and talk to them.

  Harris pouted. “No. Why do you want them?” Why don’t you want us? was the unspoken question.

  “I need to see all the prospects. I have orders from Mars.”

  Harris blinked then got to his feet. “Take my seat, I’ll grab them and herd them up here.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she retorted with a frown. “I’m quite capable…”

  “I’m sure you are, but you don’t have to. Let me help.”

  She gawked at him a second then shrugged. “Go knock yourself out.”

  He grinned at her, then headed off after waiting for her to take his seat.

  She was in one of the smaller offices. In this middle of the room, there was a round table circled with chairs. Each of the dozen seats was filled. Most of the guys were talking, bitching about Jackson and, after casting curious glances her way, discussing Mars’s successful challenge. Others appeared to be working. They were making calculations, scratching their heads as they tried to tally up the figures.

  On the back wall, there was a desk with a computer. Jethro seemed to be plotting an interactive route. He moved markers here, there, and everywhere, bypassing certain areas and taking long roads when there appeared to be shorter ones. As she was directly opposite Jethro, she could see what he was doing and frowned at it.

  Mountain, so called because he was nearer seven feet than six, told her, “Jethro’s plotting our next run.”

  She studied him, surprised he’d answered in such a way. So were the guys around the table because they stared at him, equally stunned. Mountain just shrugged. “She’s the Ursu. We can’t keep shit from her.”

  That seemed to dispel the lull of quiet because everyone went back to their work and their conversations of moments before.

  Annette didn’t bother to correct him, didn’t bother to say she hadn’t said a damned thing, had only been looking at the computer screen, not asking about it. She was too glad to know the answer.

  “I thought they idea of planning a route was to take the shortest path?”

  Mountain shook his head. “He avoids areas where we know there are cops or frequent patrols, plus there are zones we’re not welcome in. Some belong to gangs or cartels or other MCs. Jethro’s got an eidetic memory. Whatever he sees, he remembers. That’s why Mars always gets him to plan the runs. Before, I used to do it or Trike, but we always forgot something and we’d always run into a patrol or whatever. Ever since Mars made use of Jethro’s gifts, we haven’t had a single issue.”

  “That’s really neat.” She meant it too. These men, as bizarre as they were, and as little as she wanted to be their mommy, hell, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to them.

  They’d all been so nice to her. Apart from Jackson, that is. So the last thing she wanted was for one of them to be thrown in jail or whatever.

  “What are you running?” she asked, curious if Mountain would answer.

  “This time, it’s weird.”

  “Do you run guns?” If they did, she’d have to talk to Mars. It was one thing to run dope, but guns? No way was she letting that continue.

  “Nah, not anymore. It wasn’t worth the trouble.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mountain shrugged. “We earned a lot, but every time we ran them, we’d lose a couple of brothers.” Perhaps her confusion was evident, because he explained, “In another MC, that might not matter so much, but to us, it’s all that matters. We’re not just brothers, we’re clan brothers. Our bears run together. We’re bound to one another. When we lose one of our own, even if it’s just to jail, it’s hard going doing without them. It’s why prospects take a helluva long time to be promoted. They have to have the time to become a part of the bond that unites us all.”

  “How long does it take in a regular MC?” she asked, curious.

  “Depends. Six months? A year? If they’re good at whatever tasks are thrown at them, or, if they have a talent, I’d guess it happens sooner rather than later. But here, it can take nearly two years for them to become a part of the bond.”

  “Interesting,” she murmured, meaning it. She’d yet to see many aspects of the Clan side of the MC. Most of the time, she saw the bikes, the bikers, and then the way in which they led their lives.

  Only at the challenge and the night of the shooting had she seen the bears. And the rules that came as part and parcel of being shifters, she heard about them but hadn’t really seen them.

  A part of her was perplexed by it all, then another was intrigued. If she and Mars hadn’t been in a total sex haze, she’d have asked more questions.

  All she knew was that if it had been down to her, this morning, they’d have stayed in bed until late again. Mars had been the one to climb out of bed with a grumble and head off on business. He’d told her as he’d been drying off and getting dressed that Martinez had contacted them the night before and asked to meet this very morning.

  Without Mars’s constant presence, the desperate need for him had abated. She wondered if it was his pheromones that drove her insane, and considering they were what had attracted him to her in the first place, she guessed that made sense.

  Mountain leaned over to look at the paperwork another brother was checking through, and a bustling sound came from the doorway, dragging her attention from him and to the prospects shuffling into
the office.

  She smiled at each of them, trying to imbue that smile with kindness. The last thing she needed was them scared because they thought she was going to do something to them.

  Although, what they thought she could do and what she would do were two different things. This Ursu shit meant they thought she could walk on fucking water or something. It was insane the way they looked to her now, after such a short time in the role. Only God knew what they’d expect when she’d been in the position for a while.

  Just the idea made her feel a little queasy so she turned up the beam in her smile and stopped herself from thinking, period.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you all, guys, but Mars and I have to ask a big favor of you.”

  Jimmy’s ears turned pink, then, as he started to speak, he stared down at the floor. “It’s okay, ma’am, we’re happy to help however you need.”

  Sometimes, it astounded her that these guys were a part of the hardcore criminal element.

  What with all the ma’ams, the pleases and the thank yous, as well as the bowing and the scraping to her, they seriously needed to stop working on their manners if they intended to have any kind of street cred.

  But hell, what did she know? This MC had been going before some of the earliest human ones had. Apparently, they knew what they were doing.

  “When Mars went to disassociate the MC from the Martinez Cartel, he found a group of women who were to be a part of the next shipment. We’re trying to help them so for the interim, we need them to stay here until we can get them on their feet. To do that, obviously, we need rooms. If you guys wouldn’t mind shifting for the next couple of nights, and sleeping outside, then that would be wonderful.”

  The guys immediately nodded, seeing no problem in that, and she smiled her thanks at them. They blushed a little and Micky stepped forward and hesitantly asked, “Is it true the bunnies are being kicked out?”

  That question had every head in the office popping up. They turned to gawk at her, waiting for her answer. “Yes, it’s true. Mars has learned something that questions their loyalties to the Clan.”

  Though that took away some of the umbrage the brothers felt, they were still on edge. “What like? They’re only bunnies, we don’t tell them anything,” one stated.

  Uncertain of how much she should reveal, then saying to hell with it because Jackson was dead anyway and the piece of shit was exactly that—a piece of shit, she murmured, “Mars discovered today that Cub was murdered as part of the business arrangement Jackson had with the cartel.” Outrage slammed through the room, and a single charge seemed to course through each man. She recognized it, having felt it before when Mars and Jackson had shifted.

  She held up her hands, trying to stem the tide. “Calm down. You can deal with your grief later. I’m sharing this information with you because it’s important you know how poor Jackson’s judgment is.”

  Jethro snarled, “Most of the bunnies were his pick anyway. No wonder Mars was questioning their loyalties.”

  “The sooner they’re out, the better,” Mountain bit off, and the entire room hollered their agreement.

  She knew word would spread of Jackson’s treachery, and she was glad of it. If it made Mars’s life easier, then she was all for that.

  In fact, she was all for helping out as much as she could anyway. This wasn’t her way; it never had been. She wrote about the criminal element, she wasn’t a part of it, but still, that wasn’t the path fate had chosen for her.

  She’d do what she could to help her mate, and if that meant dealing with his men when things were difficult, then she’d be his voice when the going got tough.

  This Ursu thing wasn’t entirely useless, after all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Mars climbed into bed later that night, he groaned as Annette’s warmth slammed him square in the gut. He couldn’t stop himself from sliding a hand over the curve of her waist, before moving over her side to cup one of her breasts.

  The heavy weight filled his palm as he nuzzled his face into her hair, loading himself up with her scent.

  After what he’d seen, heard, and smelled today, all he wanted now was to drown in his mate. To breathe her in and lap her up.

  She wriggled, moving out of wakefulness at his arrival, and he quickly slid his hand down to the V of her legs, insinuating his fingers between her thighs where she was hot and ready for him. Her hips rolled, sinuously slithering in reaction to his touch, and he smiled against her hair, still loading up on her essence.

  Slipping a finger between the wet lips of her sex, he rubbed her clit, teasing her a little but mostly giving her the best wake up call ever.

  He hadn’t intended on getting back here so late, but by the time each of the women had freshened up and was ready to get on the bus, dark had already hit. The bus had taken two trips to get all the women back to the clubhouse and he’d traveled with Dickie on each ride.

  There had been a little confusion, but the fact the guys had fed, clothed, and allowed them to wash up, had ingratiated the MC in the women’s good graces. They weren’t frightened of the bikers; they just had a healthy dose of caution. And after what they’d been through, who could blame them?

  Still, he’d reassured them they weren’t being imprisoned in the clubhouse, and that the gates at the front of the compound, though large, were not to stop people getting out but to stop people from getting in.

  He’d told them they were welcome to stay for as long as they needed, but if they wanted to take off, then they could as well.

  Gratitude from them still wasn’t sitting well with him, not when guilt was riding him hard. Truth was, he intended to get Dickie to question them. To see if they knew anything about the set up, anything that they could feed to the cops to set their investigation on the right path. He knew Annette would want to speak to the women too, and if she got involved, if her editorial included first-hand accounts of the treatment, then maybe finding justice for these women wouldn’t be too hard.

  A low moan broke into his thoughts and he smiled, took another sniff of her hair, then ground the heel of his hand into her clit while plunging a finger into her pussy.

  She was so hot, so wet, he almost felt like crying with how perfect she felt.

  Annette rolled onto her back the instant he thrust another digit inside her tight pussy, and spread her legs, widening them to ease his path.

  He pressed his lips to her throat and began to suckle down. Intent on marking her, he kept at it, sucking the skin against his teeth, tonguing the area until he knew she’d have a monster hickey.

  As he worked, he moved over her, pushing most of his weight onto her smaller frame, letting her know she was his and only his as he blanketed her. She curled her arms about his back, scraping her nails over the length of his spine, dragging his nerve endings awake and making him shudder with the deliciousness of her caress.

  Whenever she did anything like that, it always reminded him of how strong she was. She could give as much as she got, and then some.

  He needed that in a woman. Someone who could take his shit as well as bear his weight, and all without complaining. If anything, she held on tight for the ride or made herself heard in other ways.

  His hips came to settle right between her spread thighs and his cock nudged her gate. He loved sliding it through the slick lips, wetting his shaft and marking himself and her with the other’s scent. Each time his cock rolled over her clit, she jerked her hips up, and he knew that she was close; even though they’d barely begun messing around, he could sense how ready she was and he fucking loved it.

  Rather than tease, he let the tip of his shaft push into her, where he was immediately caressed by the tight walls of her cunt.