KIKO (MC Bear Mates Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  Bart walked past Konstantine and took up Kitty’s two boxes as though they contained nothing but tissue paper and bubble wrap.

  “Shall we go, ladies?”

  “You haven’t heard the end of this!” Konstantine snapped.

  Kitty stopped long enough to look at her father, long and hard.

  “I’ve never been able to please you, Dad,” she said, her voice sad. “God knows I’ve tried, but I could never be the son you wanted at your side. I’m sorry for that; sorry I could never please you; sorrier than I can ever express that I wasn’t Rand.”

  “Don’t you talk to me about ‘sorry.’” he growled.

  Kitty closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. When she opened them, her father was still glaring at her. She sighed and turned to follow Bart without another word.

  She found Tina Carpenter standing behind her desk, an expression of shock and awe on her face showing clearly that she had heard every word. Kitty stopped and smiled at her former assistant. When Tina glanced fearfully toward the office door, Kitty reached out to lay a hand on the younger woman’s arm.

  “We couldn’t pay you what you’re making here right away, but if you’re interested…”

  Tina’s dark eyes got big. “Oh, yes, ma’am.”

  Mel pulled a sheet off Tina’s note pad and jotted down an address and phone number. “Here, Tina,” she whispered. “Call me when you’re ready to jump ship.”

  “I’m ready, now, Ms. Saint.”

  Kitty smiled. “You should finish the month if you can, before you give your notice, so you can get another full paycheck. Then call us. We should be ready for you by then. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Kitty, Mel, and Bart headed out of the building. As they signed out at security, Kitty could tell by the shocked expressions that the news of her leaving had made it to the door before her. In another five minutes, she was loaded into Bart’s SUV, and they were following Mel out of the parking lot. She sighed but didn’t look back.

  “I’m sorry, darlin’,” Bart said.

  “So am I,” Kitty said. “I wish it could have been different between us, but Dad never forgave me for outliving Rand.”

  “His loss,” Bart said, reaching for her hand.

  “Yes. Mine, too.”

  She returned the squeeze of his hand, grateful for his support.

  “Now what?” she asked as they waited for a traffic light.

  “Family meetin’ tonight,” he said. “You and Mel have some explainin’ to do.”

  Kitty laughed. “Yes, I guess we do.”

  * * *

  It was actually a lot easier than Kitty had thought it would be, meeting with the entire family. They were gathered around Mark and Abby’s dining room table, and Mark was generous as he poured wine for the ladies.

  “Bear-Cat, huh?” Matt said then took a swig from his bottle of beer.

  “I like it,” John said.

  “Me, too,” Meg said. “It’s all of you and Addy and Kitty, all rolled into one.”

  “Well, it just popped into my head when old man Konstantine asked, but if we come up with somethin’ better, that’d be okay.”

  There were protests around the table, and so it was settled.

  “To The Bear-Cat Agency,” Mark said, raising his bottle high.

  Everyone lifted their bottle or glass.

  “How are you doing, Kitty?” Meg asked.

  Kitty took a deep breath. “All right, I guess, though I’ve never been unemployed and homeless before.”

  Luke snorted. “You’re hardly that. What you and Mel cooked up is a great idea, and I’m bettin’ we can make it work in no time.”

  “Getting clients won’t be easy,” Kitty said.

  “You already have two,” Meg said. “The Four Saints and me.”

  “Really?” Kitty said. “Are you serious about touring again, Meg?”

  Meg shook her head. “Not touring—never that, again. It would take me too far from home for too long. But there are local gigs I could get, with your help—and by local, I mean Tennessee and surrounding states. I don’t want to go too far. This is my home, and I like it here. But surely there are universities and music schools who wouldn’t mind paying me something to perform and lead workshops.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Mel said.

  “I could be your third client,” Addy said.

  Kitty smiled. She liked Addy. The quietest of all six of the young Saints, she was soft-spoken, and oh so very talented as a song writer.

  “We’d be fools not to take you on, Addy,” Bart said. “You write terrific songs, and some of them are just cryin’ out for a female star to sing ’em.”

  “Hey!” Luke said, wrapping his arm around his wife protectively. “Candace, here, sings those songs real well.”

  “Of course she does,” Addy said loyally.

  “But I don’t like to,” Candace said, rolling her eyes toward her husband. “Not on stage. You know I don’t. So let Kitty, Mel, and Bart find some up-and-coming star to really do those songs justice. I mean, just ’cause the Saints don’t want to sing at the Grand Ole Opry, doesn’t mean Addy’s songs shouldn’t get there.”

  There was a burst of enthusiasm around the table, and Kitty shook her head in wonder.

  It is so easy for them, she thought.

  Mel and Kitty had outlined their preliminary plans for the whole family over pulled pork and coleslaw, and everyone seemed to want in on it. Bart had agreed that his front parlor was the perfect place for an office, and Matt had an idea about a possible joint venture with the owner of a small recording studio nearby who was currently in trouble financially. The brainstorm of ideas seemed never ending.

  “You still with us, darlin’?” Bart asked after a time, his voice a soft murmur in her ear.

  She smiled at him. “Barely.”

  “I think Kitty’s had it for tonight,” Mel said, and Kitty felt the warmth of her smile.

  And how good it feels to have Mel for a friend and colleague, now, she thought.

  “I think you’re right,” Kitty said, getting up from the table. “I can’t thank all of you enough for…” She broke off, suddenly at a loss for words.

  Mel stood and gave her a warm hug. “I’m so glad you invited me to go with you, Kitty, she said. “I think we’re going to be great together.”

  “You bet,” Matt said.

  “I couldn’t even begin to succeed without all of you,” Kitty said.

  Bart got to his feet and put his arm around her shoulders. “You were the spearhead on this one, Kitty, and deserve all the credit for it. And we’re all agreed it’s gonna be good for all of us, so let’s just call this a family affair and leave it at that.”

  In another few minutes, Bart led her down the back stairs and into the night. They crossed the alley and stopped between their two cars.

  “I don’t like the idea of you tryin’ to drive home tonight, Kitty,” Bart said.

  She looked up at him, trying to see his golden eyes in the shadows.

  “I don’t like the idea of going home at all,” she said.

  Bart smiled and brushed the hair back from her face. “Even better,” he murmured, kissing her brow and turning her toward his door.

  * * *

  They didn’t bother with the lights, but let the moonlight and streetlights coming through the windows guide their way into the bedroom.

  “We need to be more careful tonight,” Kitty said when he brought her to a stop at the foot of the bed and took her into his arms.

  “Oh?”

  He sounded worried, and she actually giggled.

  “I don’t want to ruin Meg’s dress,” she said.

  He laughed. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, loosening the belt that held the dress in place.

  When the belt was gone, the dress flowed to the floor along with it, and Kitty’s breath caught when he opened the front of her bra, releasing her breasts. The air conditioning blew across her heated
flesh, where his mouth left a damp trail, and she felt an answering tingle in her nether regions.

  “Bart…”

  “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he said, returning his lips to hers. “We won’t be takin’ as long to get there tonight.”

  “Good!”

  He chuckled, but when he would have laid her on the bed, she twisted and pushed him ahead of her. He landed on his back in the middle of the bed, and she rejoiced at the sound of his laughter.

  “My turn,” she said, straddling his thighs and going to work on his shirt front with clumsy fingers.

  “Just don’t take too long,” he said, groaning when she reached for his belt but stopped long enough to feel the bulge at the front of his jeans.

  Kittle laughed breathlessly. “It won’t be long, now. Just scoot up on the bed.”

  He did as directed, and she moved away just long enough and far enough to pull off his shoes and socks, as well as her own shoes, slip, stockings, and panties, before she quickly returned to his belt buckle and pulled it apart. Then carefully unbuttoning his jeans, she felt for the zipper.

  “Careful, darlin’…”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” She pulled the zipper down and felt his member pulsing through his shorts.

  “Lift your hips for me,” she directed.

  When he did, she lifted up far enough to give her room to slide his jeans down. Once they were around his ankles, he kicked them off.

  “Sit up, now.”

  He did as she directed, and she peeled his shirt over his shoulders and threw it away, before pushing him back down onto his back.

  “You are so beautiful,” she said, as she settled down over him and ran her hands through the dark fur on his chest. His muscles were smooth and hard under the soft coat, and she let her fingers roam, following the line of hair as it narrowed down to the waistband of his shorts.

  “You got that wrong, Kitty,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.”

  He grasped her under her arms, then, and pulled her up over him until he could reach her breasts with his mouth. She held herself above him with her arms on either side of his head as he feasted on first one then the other, leaving her gasping. When she couldn’t stand it anymore she slid down him to lay her lips on his, taking their kiss deep, all the while feeling the huge presence of his member between her legs. He had pushed down his shorts while she hadn’t been paying attention, and she felt her own wetness as she rubbed against him.

  “You need to sit up, now, darlin’,” he directed, placing his big hands under her arms once more and lifting her off him.

  Kitty cried out in disappointment, until she felt the prodding of his member at her center. She reached down to take him in her hands, feeling him grow harder still, then guided him to her opening. It was bigger this way, and she felt some pain as she slowly sank down onto him.

  Then he was thrusting up, hard, and pulling her down, her hips trapped in his big hands. Kitty squealed, arching back, her hands spearing through his hair, as she came down on him. He repeated the motion, first lifting then pulling her down, until the pain was eclipsed by a pleasure so big, she thought she would burst from it.

  And in another moment, she did, shuddering hard on her climax, her cry swallowed by his roar as his seed filled her.

  Later, she lay on him, her legs wrapped around his, his member still deep inside her. He had softened, but he was still there, still a part of her, and she felt complete. She sighed in contentment, and felt him pull a blanket up over her against the cool night air. When he turned his head to kiss her, she felt tears threaten.”

  “Did I hurt you, Kitty?” he asked, and she heard distress in his voice.

  “No! Well, maybe, at first, but then it was...it was perfect.”

  She felt his smile when he kissed her again.

  She sighed. “I love you, you know.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured you did. Convenient, that, since I love you, too.”

  As his arms tighten around her, she felt his member begin to grow inside her, and in another moment, she felt herself quicken once more.

  “I can’t believe what you do to me,” she murmured. “It’s never been like this before.”

  “Good,” he said, the satisfaction in his voice unmistakable.

  Kitty laughed softly and hugged him close, at home in his arms as she had never been anywhere else before.

  “Are you gonna marry me, Kitty?” he asked after a time.

  She sighed. “I think I’ll have to. Bear-Cat is supposed to be a family affair, after all.”

  He laughed and rolled over, reversing their positions. Then he began to love her once more, and she let herself fly.

  Breakwater: Leo

  Star Bears I

  by

  Becca Fanning

  As a little girl, Annie had pictured how her dream wedding would go. She’d wear a white dress and walk down the aisle, looking out over a sea of smiling faces as she approached the altar. Her groom she had pictured less as a specific person and more as an amalgamation of traits she wanted: kind eyes, a warm smile, broad shoulders… things she associated with a gentle, good-hearted man. Her mother would be alive, and her father would be sober.

  She had always known this little fantasy of hers had been a mess of impossibilities. She just hadn’t pictured it going this awry.

  Running a hand over the bodice of her dress, Annie stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looked morosely back out at her. One pale, manicured hand ran over the bodice of her gown, fingers tracing over the thousands of crystals dotting the fabric like stars. Annie had never been this close to a diamond before. She’d certainly never thought she’d be wearing this many of them. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate series of braids and curls and there was shimmering powder swiped across the lids of her grey eyes, making them seem bigger and brighter.

  Annie had never looked better, and she had never felt worse.

  Not for the first time since she had received the news of her own impending nuptials by way of her father drunkenly sweating through a confession, Annie cursed at the series of mundane-to-regrettable events that made up her life. She’d always been told growing up that if she worked hard enough, she could be and have anything she wanted. Bright-eyed idiot that she had been, she hadn’t realized that it was just a condescending platitude doled out to the have-nots of the universe to make them more complacent with their lot, to shift the blame away from the people overworking and underpaying their employees. Instead, she’d planted her feet, ignored the throngs of people she’d known growing up who worked hard day in and day out and barely had enough to eat, and decided to become a politician.

  She’d ended up as a waitress at dive bar instead. It hadn’t been all terrible—the other servers were friendly and she got free drinks—but spending anywhere between eight and fifteen hours a day avoiding groping hands and belligerent drunks hadn’t been how she wanted to spend her life. This was without her father showing up and explaining that he needed money—just this once!—and that he wouldn’t spend it all on cheap booze, only for a friend of his to call her to come pick him up once he’d drunk himself unconscious. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like much, just a continued state of existence tinged by the frustration that she could be so much more. Now it seemed like paradise. It was funny what made you learn to appreciate what you had. Sometimes it was a death, or a breakup, or getting fired. Sometimes it was your father telling you he’d accidentally sold you into being what amounted to a sex slave for a demonic autocrat with a warship that could eat the sun and a private army decked out in gear reminiscent of Civil War uniforms.