BEARedtoYouBBWShifterEroticRomanceARe

BEARed to You

A Beast’s Mate Romance

by

Tawny Taylor

Published By Novel Mind Books

Copyright © 2013 Tawny Taylor

All rights reserved

Books by Tawny Taylor

Wild Knights

Wicked Knights

Wanton Knights

Wild, Wicked & Wanton

Threesome

Dark Master

Decadent Master

Dangerous Master

Darkest Fire

Darkest Desire

Claim Me

Conquered

Wicked Beast

Prince of Fire

Girl Enslaved

Dirty Little Lies

Triple Stud

Double Take

Behind the Mask

Plays Well with Others

Enslaved by Sin

Lust’s Temptation

Wrath’s Embrace

Burning Hunger

Carnal Hunger

Torrid Hunger

Everlasting Hunger

Slave of Duty

Flesh to Flesh

Her Devilish Dom

Her Lesson In Sin

Sex and the Single Ghost

Real Vamps Don’t Drink O-Neg

Your Wicked Game

At His Mercy

Compromising Positions

Breathless

Yes Master

His Dark Kiss

Touch of Fire

Burn For You

Alien Seduction

Make Me Shiver

Heart Throb

Playing For Keeps

Make Me Burn

Ties That Bind

Shades of Pleasure

Pleasing Him

What He Wants

What He Craves

What He Demands

What He Needs

Make You Mine

Burn for You

Hopelessly Broken

BEARed to You ABOUT THE BOOK:

“I came to you because I had to have you. I had to possess you. But I’ve stayed with you because I need you.”

Curvy city girl Abby Clumm wouldn't normally travel to remote cabins in Alaska alone. But thanks to a poorly timed air traffic controllers’ strike, she finds herself alone in the boonies. As night falls, a shotgun she doesn't know how to use and a flimsy wooden door are the only things standing between her and the vicious, hungry beast outside.

The scent of a woman nearby beckons research scientist Tarik Evert, sends him staggering outside into the cold. He doesn’t remember how he wound up at her door, naked and shivering. And he’s not sure what is about to happen if she lets him inside. He only knows one thing—the fierce, unrelenting hunger that brought him to her in the first place.

And that's just the beginning of their troubles...

Genre: BBW paranormal (shifter) erotic romance

(Please note: this story is a revised version of a book previously published as Mark of the Beast)

Praise for Tawny Taylor

"Scorching hot. . .a heady mix of BDSM and thrill combined with the dark world of vampires." --Romantic Times on Dangerous Master

"Delicious taboo sex and intrigue. . .irresistible!" --Eden Bradley on Darkest Fire "Absolutely delicious!" --Kate Douglas on Dark Master

SAMPLE:

He was losing control again. The beast was gaining strength, being fed by the delightful sensation of Abby’s mouth on his cock. He had to stop it. Had to gather up his strength, hold off, even if there wasn’t a cell in his body that wasn’t screaming for a quick release.

He wanted to possess her. To spill his seed inside over and over and over again. Yet a tiny part of him knew he shouldn’t, that to impregnate her could put her in more jeopardy than she was already in. Not to mention an innocent child. He’d taken her word for it the first time, that there could be no pregnancy but he didn’t want to take that chance again.

He helped her to the floor, and once she was nude and lying comfortably on the thick rug before the fire, he pulled her knees apart. Her skin took on a golden glow from the fire. Her hair looked like flames fanned around her head. Her eyes were dark. They said more than he suspected she knew.

He moistened a fingertip with his mouth then parted her labia. Her clit sat nestled under her damp curls, glistening with her juices. She arched her back the instant he touched her there.

Dammit, she looked so lovely, her tits pushed high into the air, her nipples pink points, beckoning him. Her soft legs parted, her cream coating her pussy. He wanted to sink his cock into her tight heat and fuck her hard. Fuck her until she screamed his name, until she begged him to do it over and over again.

No. No. Not like that.

He’d take her slow. He’d build up the tension until neither of them could stand it anymore. They’d find bliss together.

Yes, that’s how she deserved to have it.

Chapter One

“I’m an idiot.” Abby Clumm threw down her useless cell phone, wrapped the quilt tighter around her shoulders then hefted the shotgun up to take aim at the front door. “What was I thinking, coming out here alone?” Something strong and big and scary was doing its best to shred the wooden barricade into toothpicks.

She had no interest in becoming that animal’s entrée.

Quite the opposite. She preferred being at the top of the food chain.

Darn it, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Outside, miles and miles of wilderness stretched as far as the eye could see. The nearest neighbor was probably at least a half mile away. She didn’t stand a chance of escaping an animal attack out there. And inside the rural cabin she’d rented with her best friend, her chances weren’t much better. A garden shed had more square footage than this place.

All one room, with what could barely qualify as a kitchen, a tiny living area and a cot for a bed, there were no potential barriers to hold back whatever beast was outside, trying to find a way in. Unless the ugly circa 1970’s couch would do it. She doubted the brown, gold and rust plaid would shock the animal to death.

No. Once that door gave way, she was dead meat. It wasn’t like she actually knew how to shoot the gun she was holding. She didn’t even know if the stupid thing was loaded.

Argh! This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Her best friend, Katie, was the one who knew about this survivor-type stuff. Hunting, camping, shooting. Abby was a city girl through-and-through. She could hunt down a deal on Manolos but she could not hunt an animal, even if it was standing five feet from her with a target plastered to its chest.

Which was why Katie was supposed to have arrived at their rented cabin, about ten miles outside of Anchorage, before Abby. Of all the times for air traffic controllers to stage a strike. She bet those stubborn controllers, who doubtless made more money in a month than she did in a year, didn’t know her blood was on their hands if something happened tonight. She thought about scribbling down a note demanding legal recompense for her non-existent descendants, but when the frenzied digging at the door stopped, she got all hopeful and thought just maybe the bear or whatever had left.

Of course, she wasn’t about to open a shutter to check. She might be an idiot for getting herself into this situation in the first place, but she wasn’t
that
stupid. Everyone who watched thriller movies knew if she opened a shutter the deranged, rabid animal would be standing there, waiting, slobber dripping from its teeth, its huge paw raised and ready to slam through the triple-pane glass. Three quarter-of-an-inch pieces of glass wouldn’t hold up against an animal that could shake a solid door like this one had.

Her hands trembling, her heart beating a frenzied rhythm against her breastbone like a bongo drummer on crack, she sat on the back of the couch and lowered the gun. Darn thing weighed a ton.

“Please, please, let it be gone.”

Shaking, she waited, her senses on high alert. Silence hung heavy, like an angry black storm cloud.

“I want to go home. I want a Crispy Kreme and a White Chocolate Dream Latte. And a mall.” She set the gun on the floor, making sure the dangerous end—the one the bullets came from—was pointed away from her. “This wilderness stuff is for the birds, literally.” She chuckled nervously at the cheesy pun and switched on the radio. She needed human contact, even if it was one-sided. Being alone in a scary, foreign place sucked.

She briefly considered heading back into town and dishing out the dough to stay the night in a hotel. Only one problem with that plan. The animal that had nearly ripped the door from its hinges might still be outside. Better wait until tomorrow. Granted, one night in comparative luxury didn’t solve her problem. She couldn’t go home until the strike ended. And she didn’t have the money to stay in a hotel for more than a couple of days. What if the strike lasted a week? A month?

“God, this sucks!” She paced, chastising herself for letting Katie talk her into this so-called “Great Adventure”. She’d been in Alaska all of seven hours, twenty-three minutes and she’d had enough adventure to last a lifetime.

Minutes, measured in the steady--if slightly annoying--tick-tock of the wall clock, and the stream of 1980’s tunes, slowly marched by. With each one that passed, her comfort level raised a tiny bit. Forty-two minutes later, she felt pretty confident she wouldn’t end the night by becoming bear appetizer. It looked like the abominable snowman or whatever had given up.

Yay!

She went back to the book she’d been reading, which she’d tossed on the couch when the attack had started. She settled herself in a cozy leather chair and kicked up her feet on the pine coffee table. She was just getting to a good part—a sex scene, of course—when someone knocked on the front door.

Katie?
“Thank God!” She would’ve liked the option of checking through a peephole before opening the door, but since security didn’t seem to be an issue in the boonies of Alaska—at least security against human beings—and peepholes didn’t come standard on the cabin’s heavy wooden doors, she slid the bolt aside and inched the door open instead.

That was so not her friend. But it—or rather
he
—was clearly a gift from Katie. He had to be. Another of Katie’s naked-man kind of gifts.

Bless her, Katie’d sent a stripper out of guilt to keep Abby-the-City-Girl from getting bored and lonely.

“Uh…may I help you?” She grinned, blinked a few times and opened the door wider. If that was the abominable snowman, then this frigid, isolated place had just taken on some charm. “Did Katie hire you? I love that girl! For my birthday, she sent a stripper dressed as a cop. He was something…was he ever. But didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to wear a costume and then take it off
after
you come inside? That’s half the fun. Oh, and where’s your tunes? And your car?” She tried to peer around him. His frame was wide. The kind of wide she could appreciate.

“Wh-who’s Katie?” Hugging himself for warmth, the guy standing outside stuttered between chattering teeth, “C-can I come in for a minute?”

Ah, so he was going to deny he’d been hired by Katie. That’s the way Katie had played it last time she’d hired a stripper too. No problem. She knew there could be no other reason for a man to be standing nude on her front porch at eight o’clock in the evening. Especially since she doubted there were any nude beaches in the area, and even if there were it was damn cold for swimming. His erect nipples testified to that fact.

She wasn’t too ashamed to say she’d noticed the cold had not negatively affected certain other erect…parts. That in itself was a wonder of nature worth the long flight from Detroit to see. Forget the mountains and glaciers and northern lights.

Back in Detroit, she would’ve never thought of letting a strange, naked man into her house, even if he was built like a god, had an erection that defied nature, and possessed the crooked smile of a devil. But after Katie’s vague promise about making up for her tardy arrival, not to mention the rabid animal that had tried to rip down her door, and her sorry survival skills, having an extremely manly man for company didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

So he didn’t quite have the whole stripping thing down yet? That was nothing to hold against him, especially considering how he was built. As long as he didn’t hear voices, have a parole officer, or consider animal torture a hobby, all was well.