He told himself he didn’t look at Mila as if she were an available woman. He focused on her employee qualities. She was prompt, reliable, and thorough. But tonight, his bear had discovered a new side of her, and suddenly all he could think about was the plumpness of her lips, the way her legs looked in those fuck-me heels, and the swells of her tits.
He shook his head. This was not happening.
A shower would cure this. He stepped into the suite’s bathroom and turned the faucet to the cool side. He needed to ice down before he undid a year’s worth of a professional relationship.
He shoved the jeans from his legs and stood under the chilly water.
“Brr.”
He huddled his hands over his arms. He stood shivering under the steady stream of frigid water. He felt his bear back off.
“Good,” he said aloud. “She’s not for you.”
He turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, tucked the corner at his hipbone, and walked into the bedroom. He had left the light on in his studio. He pushed open the cracked door.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked.
* * *
Mila
Holy hell. Crawford was standing in front of her dripping wet.
Mila jumped. “Shit. Sorry. I was wandering around trying to choose a room when I saw your drawing.” She had to consciously close her mouth. “I shouldn’t have been so nosey.”
There was nothing else to do but stare at him. The water droplets ran over his smooth skin, hanging on his nipples, dipping between the tight muscles of his torso before finally being absorbed by the towel draped at his hip.
He ran a hand through his wet hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. This room is attached to my suite.”
“It is?” She tried to look past him to steal a glimpse of his bed.
“Yeah. I guess I should have given you the proper tour. I’m a shitty host.” He chuckled.
“I think I’m the shitty houseguest. I showed up completely unannounced and without a suitcase.” She still clutched his T-shirt in her hand.
“What if I change and show you around? How does that sound?”
She smiled. “Perfect. I’d like that. But if you want to go to bed, that’s ok.” She almost kicked herself. “N-not. That’s not...” She sighed. Her words were tangled on her tongue.
“I know what you meant.” He chuckled. “Ok. Give me a second.”
He closed the bedroom door behind him. While Crawford changed she examined his latest sketch. It was completely different than the one she had taped together in the office.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open and he entered the small studio.
“Ok. So this is my studio.” He waved his hands in the air.
Mila couldn’t hold in the giggle. She liked seeing him like this. Relaxed and at home. “The studio and I are acquainted.”
“All right. Then let me show you the rest of the house.”
“Sounds good to me. But do you mind if I find a room for my shoes?” She didn’t want to click-clack all through the house.
“Oh right. Of course.” Crawford held the door for her. “I think I know a room you’ll like. Again, the shitty host didn’t even point you to a room.”
He led her across the hall. The door faced his bedroom door. It was involuntary, but she felt the pitter-patter effect on her heart when he placed a hand on her shoulder and directed her across the hall.
He opened the door. “This room has the second best view in the house.” He turned on the light.
It was a simple room, but there was a fireplace in the corner and a four-poster bed complete with a quilt.
“It’s great.” She sat on the edge of the bed to unfasten her high heels.
“Too bad it’s too dark for you to see outside. It’s gorgeous from up here.” He stood in front of the window, his dark eyes piercing the glass panes.
“I’ll see it in the morning.” She tossed the second shoe on the floor. “Much better.” She stood. “Ready for the tour.”
He turned. “Ok. So you’ve got a room. How about we start in the cellar and work our way back up?”
She smiled at him. His hair was still damp from the shower. He had pulled on a white T-shirt that was spotted in places from his wet skin. He must have rushed to get dressed.
“Lead the way.”
She followed him down the stairs, along a hallway, and down a second set of steps. Crawford turned on the light. Her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.
“Holy shit,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure her local wine shop had this many bottles of wine. “You weren’t kidding about loving wine.”
“It’s a hobby. And an excuse for getting drunk.” He winked and she felt her knees wobble slightly.
He explained how the wines were divided and where the collections came from. His brother Hudson also contributed to the cellar’s stock.
Mila followed behind him as he lead her through the house. There was a chef’s kitchen, a library, a separate study, a sunroom, two dining rooms, and so many guestrooms she lost count.
He stopped in front of her door. “So we’re back to the beginning I guess.”
“I guess so.” She licked her bottom lip.
Crawford’s face was a silhouette in the dark hallway. But she knew every line on his face. The way his chiseled jaw angled when he was thinking about something. The way his eyes focused on someone when he was trying to press his point. The way his lips formed the sexiest smile when he was trying to win someone over. Yes, she had memorized every aspect of this man. And here he was inches from her. In the dark. Alone.
6
Crawford
Her body was small next to his. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and he smelled the sweet clean fragrance of her shampoo. It wasn’t the first time he had inhaled it, but it was the first time he realized how much he loved her scent.
He hesitated in front of her door. He didn’t know what had him rooted in place, but he couldn’t move. She mesmerized him.
Her eyes glanced up and he felt them cut through his chest. Suddenly, she wasn’t Mila anymore. She was a gorgeous, funny, smart, sexy woman and she was here.
Crawford reached toward her face letting his hand graze her cheek as he brushed golden strands of hair from her face.
The look in her eyes said it all. She wanted him. She was hungry for him. She was waiting for his kiss. Waiting for him to touch her.
He pressed his mouth to her lips, brushing against her gently at first, but with the first taste of wine on her tongue, he began to move hungrily. He explored her mouth with sudden fever and thirst.
He heard the groan from her throat as an invitation for more. He stroked her tongue, sucking and pressing with his mouth.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and he lifted her against his chest. She was soft and luscious in his arms. Her breasts gently bobbing up and down as the kiss grew stronger. He wanted to pop the buttons on her blouse and feel her skin slide against the hard ridges of his chest.
He nipped at her neck, biting behind her ear, grasping for skin under her shirt. He felt her hands slide against his bare back, and he moaned as they wrapped around to his chest. There was warmth in her touch he hadn’t felt in so long. Slowly, his bear was waking up. Crawford felt a new kind of want for her. A powerful need that would swallow them both if he didn’t slow things down.
“Wait. Wait.” He settled her back to the floor, pressing his forehead to hers. “I think we need to take a breath.”
He felt her chest heave with a deep intake of air. “A breath. Right,” she whispered.
“I’m going to go back in there.” He pointed to the door behind him. “And you go in here. And I’ll see you for coffee in the morning. Got it?”
She nodded. “Got it.” But she didn’t move. She stood next to her bedroom door, her eyes hungry with the same expression. The kiss didn’t satisfy her, if anything she looked as if she was ready to devour him on the spot.
He leaned his head against the door. What the fuck happened? His hands were on fire. His cock was throbbing, and all he could think about was taking her to his bed.
He ran to the shower and jumped in fully clothed. He needed an ice bath this time.
* * *
Mila
Mila stared at the closed door in front of her. Holy shit. Crawford had just kissed her. She touched her fingertips to her lips. It had been magic and lightning. Rough and tender. Suddenly she thirsted for him like she never had before. His tongue was hot and perfect as she opened to him. His lips firm and soft as they teased her. She wasn’t quite sure if she had dreamed it, or if it really happened.
She thought she heard the water from the pipes running to the shower again. She grinned. It was uncategorically the most astonishing kiss of her life.
She tiptoed to the room he had assigned her, and cracked the door. She couldn’t bring herself to close it completely. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, but it was hard not to think something drastic had just taken place. Maybe it was only an accidental late-night mistake. But she had dreaming about that kiss for a year. She would never forget it.
She walked to the bathroom and scoped out the guest toiletries Crawford mentioned. She unwrapped a blue toothbrush and squeezed toothpaste over the bristles. She started the shower, hoping the hot water out in the woods would be piping hot.
Shedding her work clothes, she stepped into the shower, ready to steep her body in the steam.
Finished with her nighttime routine she returned to the bedroom. His T-shirt was splayed across the foot of the bed.
She dropped her towel and pulled the shirt over her head. It was faded and worn. There was an emblem of the Golden Bears on the front. She ran her hands over the soft cotton. There was no way she was putting dirty underwear on after that shower. She pulled back the sheets, slipped under them, and turned off the lamp next to the bed.
She could see into the hall. Crawford’s light was still on. The one in the studio. She tossed, trying to find a comfortable position. Every time she turned on her side, she saw the light filter under his door. She stared at the light and thought about his lips on hers.
“Shit,” she whispered. She pulled the covers back and tiptoed across the hall. She tugged on the hem of the T-Shirt. It was long enough to cover her bottom, but she certainly couldn’t bend over.
She tapped on the door. “Crawford?” she whispered.
It creaked open. He stood in front of her. His chest bare. He was wearing a pair of blue and green plaid pajama pants, slung low on his hips.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She recognized the look. It was his focused one. Clearly he was preoccupied with something other than the kiss.
“I can’t sleep.” She scrunched her lips together. “Mind if I take a look at what you’re working on?”
He hesitated. “Why not? I can’t get it fucking right.”
She moved past him. The light attached to the drawing table created a spotlight on the sketch. She studied it from all sides while Crawford gave her space.
“What do you think? What’s wrong with it?” He crossed his arms.
She motioned for his pencil. It was wedged above his ear.
“Why don’t you try this?” She erased one of the pillars and readjusted where it attached to the roofline. “And I think this window needs to be bigger.” She widened the window over the courtyard. She stood back to analyze her adjustments and then realized what she had done.
“Oh shit, Crawford. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to erase and redesign.” She moved to erase what she had just done, when his hand clamped around her wrist.
“Don’t. Leave it.” His eyes bored into hers. “It’s what it needed.”
She held her breath. Crawford’s grip was tight as he pinned her to the table. She watched his eyes as they dipped to her lips, throat, and the hem of the T-shirt. If she moved another inch he would know there was nothing under there.
He let go, breaking the contact. “How did you know to do that?” He walked around to the side of the table, and she felt her breathing return to normal.
“The window or the columns?” she asked, desperately trying to sound casual.
“Both.” He leaned closer to the print.
“Well, I just…it felt right.” She shrugged. She didn’t know how to explain it.
His eyebrows knitted together. “It’s good. Better than what I had.”
Mila felt the smile on her lips. “I could never design like you.” She paused. “Maybe one day. Right now I’m trying to learn everything I can.”
“Hmm.” He traced the marks she had made on his sketch, finally his eyes lifting to hers. “I think you’re on your way.”
He placed the pencil in the storage shelf under the table. “I think we’ve got to call it a night, don’t you? We both need to get some sleep.”
Mila felt the pang of disappointment seep in. She didn’t know what she expected by walking over here, but it wasn’t to be sent back to bed alone. That kiss was the start of something. It had to be.
This might be it. Her only chance to finally show him. To tell him for the past year she had been trying to make him happy. She paid attention to the details not because she wanted a raise, but because it mattered to her that he wore a smile every day.
Maybe all they really needed was one night together. Maybe this was their time.
She stepped to the other side of the drawing table, pressing her leg between Crawford’s.
“I don’t think I can sleep,” she whispered.
7
Crawford
He felt her leg flat against his thigh. He looked into her eyes and felt the bear stir within. He knew what this meant. The kiss. The fucking kiss had them both restless.
“Thanks for your help with the design.” He meant to reach behind her to turn the light off, but instead as his hands moved through the air they ended up cupping her face between them, pulling her roughly against his mouth. Again.
His tongue twisted against hers, tasting the cool mint on her mouth. His hands roamed through her hair, pulling and tugging as he nipped and sucked at her lips. She was fucking delicious.
A sweet moan escaped her lips and he reached for the hem of the T-shirt.
His eyes flashed to hers. “Are you naked under here?” He knew the answer. He could feel the soft warm flesh, but he couldn’t believe she would walk in here without panties. She needed them on. He needed her to have them on.
His mind raced. Kissing was one thing. Knowing she was naked was something else. He felt the sudden jerk of his cock at the new knowledge.
She nodded, her eyes pressing him on.
“Fuck,” he growled. “What are you doing, Mila?” He closed his eyes. “Panties. Where are they?”
Her hands snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her. His hands froze at the small of her back. If he moved, he would drag the shirt up over her round bottom. She would be bare. She would be in his arms naked.
“I took a shower. This was the only clean thing I had to wear. Remember?”
Her nails traced a straight line down his back. He arched into her touch.
“Right. I remember.” He stood like a solid statue, fighting the urges deep within him. He wanted to take her here and now. He wanted to bend her over the table and drive himself deep inside her. He wanted to hear his name on her lips like she had never said it before.
God, what was he thinking? This was Mila. She was the best assistant he had ever had. She brought him his damn coffee every morning—not sex. No.
He took a step back, feeling the heat between them cool. The look in her eyes faded from lust to embarrassment.
“We can’t. You and me. No.” He almost walked into his bedroom door he was in such a hurry to create distance between them.
He closed the door,
leaving her alone.
He wasn’t going to fuck Mila. No. The next woman was going to be his mate. He wanted a she-bear. It would make things easier. Things would make sense. It was what he had always wanted. He just hadn’t met her yet.
His heavy frame sank into the bed. He pulled the covers to his shoulders and turned off the light. Sleep. He would sleep tonight, and tomorrow she’d drive back to Seattle. He closed his eyes, begging his mind to dream about anything but Mila.
* * *
Crawford could hear the trickle of the stream bubbling and lapping the rocks near the pond. The mist clung to the trees and leaves with thick swirls like gray tufts of cotton. He tried to push them aside so he could see the lake.
He loved the lake. It was his favorite part of the Highland House property. The air cleared slightly. This had to be a dream. The colors were unusual. He saw glints of pink and purple in the water. He peered closer when he heard a sound behind him.
He spun on his heels. The leaves rustled and a branch was shoved out of the way as Mila tipped into the clearing. Her hair fell around her shoulders in golden waves. Her skin glowed with radiant light. The fog fell away as she stepped toward him.
He took a deep breath. She was naked. Gloriously, lusciously, tantalizingly naked.
His bear growled, stirring a rumble in his chest.
There were no words spoken between them. Crawford couldn’t move. His feet were rooted in the lake’s shoreline. Mila walked toward him, as if she were floating through the mist. Her body glistening. Her breasts bobbing toward him. Her nipples pointed at his chest. The curves of her hips round and voluptuous, swayed as she walked.
He stared directly in her green eyes. She stopped in front of him, pressing the palms of her hands flat against his chest. She looked into his eyes, tilting her chin upward, her soft lips parted, her tongue toying behind her teeth.
The Steel Bear: A BBW Bear Shifter Romance (Highland Brothers) Page 3