Phillipe
Page 19
She should have awoken by now. Before concern could rise, he remembered his father telling him that with the strongest of bonds, the blood tattoo would shine hotly and fiercely for all time, but it would also drain the female’s energy reserves.
Even in the relative gloom of his bedroom, Mars could see Annette’s tattoos on her wrist. They weren’t wishy washy, they weren’t even mildly red. The wristbands pulsed with a vibrant color that almost hurt his eyes, and did hurt his heart. He and Annette had a strong bond. By the looks of it, one of the strongest.
As with anything, even mates, connections varied. It warmed his soul to know he and Annette were one of the unusual ones.
His dad and mother had been mated, but their connection had been weak. When she’d died, his father had carried on. Unhappy, miserable enough to turn into a mean and shitty drunk, but he’d lived. The stronger the bond, the harder that was. If Annette’s tattoo stayed that vivid shade throughout their lives, and she passed first, no way would his bear be able to cope without her.
Most guys hoped for a connection like his father had had. They wanted the mate, but not the guaranteed death if anything happened to their female. Mars had never really thought about having a mate. He was eighty-two years old. If he were human, he’d be approaching death now. He’d only just found Annette now. Most bears stopped themselves from thinking, pining, worrying about when their mates would come. It just led to misery all round. But even Mars, on the rare occasions he had pictured his woman, had wanted a weaker binding. One that meant he was bound but his own man too.
In the forty minutes he’d known Annette was his, all that had changed.
He wanted the strongest binding imaginable. He wanted her tied to him in every which way, and only when they were as close as close could be would his bear be satisfied.
Almost as though she was privy to his thoughts, Annette stirred on the sheets. As she did, she wriggled her hips in a sinuous movement that had him withholding a moan. Christ, he hoped she’d do that when she was on top of him.
The notion almost had his eyes crossing.
“Where am I?” she whispered suddenly, urgently, but she remained on the bed, supine.
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.”
— You owe it to yourself to start the MC Bear Mates series now, so grab MARS here while it’s totally free!
Also by Becca Fanning
Click here to join my newsletter to get news, giveaways and 25 exclusive free stories!
I try to release at least one new shifter romance novel each month, but here are some fan favorites:
MC Bear Mates (think Sons of Anarchy but Bear Shifters) :
MARS (Free!)
MUNDO
KIKO
Justiss And Graver
MAJOR
CHRIS
SPYDER
JARVIS
JAYDEN (coming soon)
Big Easy Bears (politics and Fated Mates all tangled together in New Orleans) :
Brock
Jules
Jane (coming soon)
Shifter Royal Dynasty (House of Cards meets Game of Thrones in this modern Roma Royalty saga):
Legacy
Prophecy
Destiny
Shifter Football League (bear shifters fighting on the field and falling in love off it!):
Gabriel
Kenny
Dustin
Standalone Novels
Made Bear
Bear Fallout
Battle Scarred
My Secret To Bear
nds