Bear Mountain Clan Brides: romantic bbw werebear menage (8 page)

Today she had more to forget than usual. Her little life was about to run hard into a major crisis and she had no idea how she would be able to deal with it. As far as Hayley could see it, setting her thoughts and fears aside for the day would be the best preparation.

As she watched the mist in the valley, Hayley took in a long breath. It would be wonderful to sketch out the deep fissure of the rocky valley and wash watercolors over it to capture the magic of the morning light, but she contented herself with the picture in her mind and another snapped on her phone. Maybe she would use it to paint the scene later.

Long ago, Hayley had fantasized about living at the top of a Park Lane mansion and being waited on hand and foot in exchange for her sexual favors. She’d imagined herself the kept concubine of a tycoon with a dark secret.

Her days would pass in jewels and silk pajamas or diaphanous negligées as she awaited the sudden, savage, and unpredictable demands of her master. He would be tall and heavy-set with a luxuriant golden-brown beard, deep, dark brown eyes, and prone to sudden rages.

His needs would be as outrageous as they were obscene. He would be insatiable and tireless. His strength would match his depraved inventiveness.

He would arrive unannounced. The huge, heavy double doors would slam against the walls when he burst them open. Filling the gaping doorway he would stand, panting so hard a low growl grated under his breath.

With his feet wide apart and his hands balled in big, round fists he would shout from the doorway, “
Hayley!
Where are you?” and his fierce eyes would scour the expanse of soft white rugs and cushions.

Raging through the apartment he would find her in the kitchen, bent over some luscious morsel she had meticulously prepared to tempt him. Or bent over her keyboard, straining for the perfect rhyme to delight him with.

His huge, hairy hand would seize her wrist and drag her to her feet. The wet heat of his breath would soak her sheer robe to her skin. The thin cotton would shape itself around her pert nipples.

He would be inflamed by the sight of her full breasts as they heaved under the flimsy white cotton. His hands would grasp and hold them and his face would fall to her.

The rough press of his tongue, the clamp of his strong lips, and the hot suction from his breath would flash dark thrills through her body to boil in her pelvis. Her hips would seek him. She would throw her legs around him.

She would soothe him, lull and quell his rage, and make him forget his persecution. He would enfold her, constrain her, and violate her in unimaginable ways.

His rough passions would use up and exhaust her. Her pain and occasional scratch or grazed skin would melt his heart and inspire him to fetch more and more extravagant gifts for her.

She would be his prisoner, a beautiful bird kept and pampered in a gilded cage high above the city. She would be Beauty, and he would be the beast to torment her.

In wilder moments, she imagined that he had a brother just as savage as he. Maybe two brothers.

It looked as if she was going to have to leave her shitty little apartment as her shitty little landlord had decided it was time to extort a huge and unwarranted increase from all of his tenants.

Life in the city was hard enough. Her job in the mall wasn’t exactly uplifting. Her second job waitressing in the diner was anything but. All this so that she could scrape together the rent for two rooms by an overhead railway, and now she wouldn’t even be able to afford that because Ratzinger had decided that he was due a raise.

He had told her, “You know, you’re a very beautiful girl, Hayley,” and his beady little eyes had danced as they peered up at her. “Maybe there’s another way this could work out, hmm?”

It was amazing how one little phrase, a tiny slip like that could plunge a man instantly from “Definitely Not Impossible” to, “Not if All My Fingers Fell Off, Batteries Stopped Working, and the World ran Out of Shampoo Bottles.”

“Definitely Not Impossible” was a really small group. Significantly smaller now that Ratzinger had flushed himself out. Hayley’s luck with men had always been bad. The dry season that started when she’d arrived in the city had gone on so long now that Texas would have sent aid if they’d heard.

Following the path down through the speckled shadows of the forest, Hayley had descended far enough to have met the morning mist coming up. She held her hand up to shield her eyes against the low sun.

She burst into a clearing and the light splashed, making her wince. As she turned from the glare her foot stepped into a hollow and she stumbled and began to plunge.

Her fall was halted by a strong grip and she bumped against a soft, woolen shirt with a huge, hard chest inside it. A low voice vibrated the chest and the firm stomach. She felt more than heard the skip of amusement in the voice as it rumbled down to her.

“Are you lost in the woods, little girl?”

Big, strong hands held her steady. The touch seemed to awaken every part of her as they held her around her waist. One by one, parts of her insides felt as though they opened like flowers in sunlight. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.

Nobody called Hayley that. She didn’t remember anybody
ever
calling her that. The voice was thick like dark honey. When she looked up, she had to shield her eyes against the light again.

The bearded man’s brown eyes shone from under his tousled, tawny thatch. She saw the edge of a smile, but the face was in the glow of the haze. His hands still held her.

Irrationally, Hayley didn’t want him to let go. She felt as though she had arrived somewhere, like she had reached a destination. His trunk was warm and hard.

His hands were strong but they held her tenderly, like his nerves were finding her. Learning her. His body was warm against her in the cold morning air. She felt an urge to hug him.

“Are you okay?” There was definitely a chuckle in his voice now.
Definitely Not Impossible
, she thought.

Hayley cleared her throat and said, “I’m fine. Thank you.” She put her hands on his to remove them. When her their skin touched a shock bolted through her. It made her mouth sag open and her eyes opened wider. She felt a well open at her core, like a discovery.

Against her fluttering stomach and behind the heavy denim of his work jeans, a long, hard rock uncoiled and straightened. Her heart thumped.

Somehow Hayley felt as though she knew the big stranger. He seemed dangerous and cuddly at the same time, in a way that felt familiar.

Hayley pulled back, but he didn’t let go. She said, “Thank you.” Her voice was breathy. “I must have lost my footing.”

“Lucky that’s all you lost.” There was a twinkle in his voice and a smile tugged at his full lips. “Could have hurt your fine self.” His eyes raked over her heaving breasts and her quivering frame.

“Don’t see nearly enough beautiful women on the mountain. Wouldn’t want to lose one.”

Still off balance, she relished the sensation of her waist feeling so small and delicate in his grasp. She put her hands on his big chest to steady herself.

Her jaw dropped open and she pressed her tongue against her lip as she felt the strong, steady beat of his heart. His lower lip trembled and his nostrils flared. His chest rumbled as he spoke again. “We must find something hot to get inside you.”

Hayley felt a thrill rise as he said it. She hadn’t stopped to have breakfast before she left, and she was feeling a little weak. She knew what he said was true.

His lip curled, baring his sharp, white teeth. “C’mon. There’s a little place nearby serves good country cooking.” As he guided her to the path, he told her, “I’m Ben,” and he bowed his head a little as he said, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Ben. I’m Hayley. Do you spend all of your time up here rescuing damsels in distress?”

He steered her through the trees and up the path, “Not nearly enough, ma’am,” he smiled down at her, “although I live here on the mountain.”

The sun was higher now as it dappled through the rustling leaves and branches. The mist had thinned almost to nothing. As Hayley’s Timberlands crunched the forest floor, she said, “I saw a brown bear this morning.”

Ben’s tongue slipped across his smile. He kept looking forward as his eyebrows raised mockingly, “Oh yeah?”

“An idiot hunter nearly shot him.”

“Seems like a good day for narrow escapes, wouldn’t you say?”

“I just hate that a man would shoot a fantastic beast like that for no reason.”

Ben’s eyebrows briefly arched. “You and me both, Hayley.”

As they moved between two bushes toward the edge of the wood, Hayley wanted to take his hand. Too late, they broke out into the full morning light. She felt like she was leaving a magical place and emerging back into dull reality.

Up ahead and perched on the mountainside was a low wood building.
Dick’s Diner
, said the sign over the big windows. “Food’s good in there,” Ben said. “You should fuel up if you plan to spend the day on the mountain.”

Hayley could tell that Ben didn’t plan to join her inside and she felt deflated. He said, “Be careful if you’re out late, Hayley,” and she loved the sound of her name in his strong throat. “Weather’s apt to turn this afternoon.”

She watched his face. He said, “As you walk, ‘specially if you get up any higher, watch out for little huts, usually in cover of trees. If you get caught in the weather, make for the nearest one and hole up.”

His smile was warm. She wanted him to stay with her.

“Won’t you join me inside?”

“His food’s good, like I said. Dick’s got the right name, though.”

He took her hand. At the touch of his skin on hers, a powerful pulse pounded through her. She pleaded with him with her eyes as he said, “Take care, Hayley,” and he was gone like a Cheshire cat. Nothing was left but the feeling that the smile in his voice gave her.