Boarlander Cursed Bear (Boarlander Bears Book 5) (9 page)

Alyssa startled awake, every muscle tensed. It was dark and smelled of earth and pine sap.

Where was she?

A strange, familiar sensation washed through her, and she bolted upright.

Something heavy fell from her waist to her lap. “What’s wrong?” Clinton asked, his arm tightening around her hips.

Right. She was in a tent, not somewhere scary. She was camping with Clinton, and he would never, ever let anything bad happen to her. He was big, protective, and even if he hadn’t said it, even if he never would, he loved her.

When her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she became better anchored in the here and now.

“Did you have a dream?” Clinton asked low.

Jerkily, she nodded her head and drew her knees up to her chest. “Yes. Just a dream.” The air outside of their blankets was cold, and she was only wearing one of Clinton’s oversize thermal sweaters.

“
The
dream?” he asked.

“No. This was something different.”

Clinton’s massive form relaxed back onto the pallet he’d made late last night. He’d set up their tent ridiculously far away from the others, but he said that his bear needed distance, especially with his protective instincts kicked up right now. “I had four brothers,” Clinton murmured. His eyes were silver and glowing strangely as he looked at her and stroked her hair. “We all slept in the same room, and my youngest brother, Tim, had night terrors somethin’ fierce. And my mom, she never got irritated at being woke up in the middle of the night. Not like me and my other brothers. She would sit on the edge of his bed—he was on the bottom bunk under me—and she would say, ‘Tim, always tell someone your bad dreams, and it’ll take the power from them. They won’t ever come true if you share them with someone.’”

Slowly, Alyssa settled under the blankets and against Clinton’s side. She rested her cheek against his chest as he tightened his strong arm around her.

“You won’t like it.”

Clinton made a single ticking sound behind his teeth and cut off a soft snarl in his throat. “I fucked up with that. I should’ve listened to your dream and not made you keep it. I won’t do that anymore.” He swallowed audibly in the dark. “Tell me.”

“I wasn’t me,” she whispered. “I was some other girl. Shae. And the boy was there. And he was so…”

“Say it.”

“He was so handsome, smiling all the time as we walked through these woods. Evergreens and blackberry bushes. It smelled like here. The sun was so bright, and it would blind me sometimes. I was seeing flashes. The boy looking behind him as we walked this dirt road. Our hands linked as he led me, always talking. Always smiling. And his eyes…he cared for me. For Shae.” A tear streaked down the corner of her eye and pooled on his chest. “I was happy. I mean…that no-problems-in-the-whole-world kind of happy. I was barefoot, and I stepped on something sharp. When the boy bent down to check it out, my toenails were painted red, and it matched the bleeding cut right on the side of my big toe. The boy told me it would be okay, it wasn’t deep, and he would carry me back. When he looked up at me, his eyes were lighter, more white than silver, and the smile had gone from his face. We turned to walk back down that dirt road, but the boy froze. Just…turned into a statue. ‘Let’s go this way,’ he said, and then picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me off the road and into the woods. And I could see it then. It was a black car. A Jeep or Range Rover, I don’t know.”

Clinton pulled her closer to his side, his heartbeat banging against her cheek fast.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Finish it.” His voice sounded too low, too gravelly, but he’d said it would never come true if she told him, so she did.

“Four men got out, and the boy ran. And ran and ran, and I was so scared because I could hear them behind us. They were loud in the woods, not like the boy. He was quiet. He hid me under a fallen log that had rotted in the middle, told me he would draw them away, and I waited there, frozen, the sound of my heartbeat deafening. It was so loud I thought they would hear it and find me. I was so scared, listening for those awful people. There was shouting far away, and I just knew they’d caught the boy, so I lurched up out of the log and bolted for the sound. I had to save him. He felt like everything. And then someone grabbed me from behind, and I sucked in this deep breath to scream… And then I woke up here.” Alyssa closed her eyes tightly to rid herself of the moisture that rimmed them.

“Why didn’t you stay put?” Clinton rasped out.

“I didn’t have control,” she squeaked out. “I wasn’t me.” It was just a dream. She couldn’t be held responsible for actions during a dream!

Clinton gripped the back of her neck and kissed her hard. He didn’t move his lips or push for more. He just sat there smashed against her, his lips hard and unforgiving. And then with a helpless sound, he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She knew what he was doing. He was taking that dream away from her and reminding her where she was. That awful dream wasn’t real. This was. He was.

Alyssa slid her arms around his neck and held him close. This time, he didn’t balk or panic at being trapped. He rolled his hips against hers instead, encouraging her. Clinton slept naked, and his erection was impossibly hard against her belly. Her sweater was pissing her off, keeping them apart. She needed to feel his warm skin against hers. Needed to feel the safety he brought. Clinton would never let anything bad happen to her, never ever. She knew it down to her bones that he would take care of her. She could trust him.

He would never leave her like the boy had left Shae.

She struggled to push the sweater up her stomach while mashed against his rock-hard torso, but Clinton had other ideas and just ripped the dang thing. Just…tore it down the middle like the thick sweater material was rice paper. Delicious chills trembled up her spine at his raw power. He kept it hidden, she knew, but little by little, he was letting her in. He was letting her see him.

He smelled of fur now, and she was so friggin’ revved up she couldn’t control her body. He pushed the sweater off her arms and held her so close her breasts ached. Too hard. Clinton was kissing too hard, which would’ve been great if he didn’t have that damned beard. Alyssa bit his lip, then dipped her throbbing lips to his neck and trailed kisses to his chest. She nibbled gently on his pierced nipple until he arched against her and grunted a sexy, needy sound. God, she loved him like this. Every time she dared a look, his eyes were glowing and hungry, his teeth gritted, his face feral. Hers. This wild man was hers.

Clinton rolled her on top of him, but this was a lot and fast. Too fast? “Clinton, are you sure?”

“Amber ain’t here. It’s just you and me.” He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “Take me back.”

Take him back how? Straddling him, she settled over his dick and rolled her hips. Clinton gripped her thighs hard, and she loved he was desperate for her right now. She slid over his shaft slowly. Clinton bowed his neck back, flexing his thick muscles as he rolled his eyes closed. In a blur, he sat up and kissed her, held her in place over his lap and rocked his hips to the rhythm she set. He felt so good here, chest against hers, holding her tight, touching her clit just right with every thrust. She wouldn’t last long like this, not with the fire burning so bright in her middle. Not when every stroke filled her with glorious, tingling pressure. Not when his hard body felt this good against hers.

I love you
. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but Clinton didn’t like that word—love—so she wouldn’t use it on him now. He wasn’t there, and maybe he never would be, but instinct told her she could tell him in another way.

Oh, she knew the laws. Knew it was illegal for humans and shifters to mark each other, but she gave zero fucks as he pushed into her again, so deep. Clinton was hers, and for some strange reason, he felt like maybe he always had been. They’d been on colliding paths, two broken souls who belonged together.

So close. He felt so right buried so far inside of her, and now his arms were shaking, tensed. He was straining with every time he bucked into her, and she lowered her lips to his shoulder, the one without the tattoos because, if he allowed this, she wanted everyone to see her mark on him. She wanted Amber to see it from the fires of hell.

Testing, she opened her mouth and bit down on the hardened muscle there. Clinton’s response was instant. His hand was on the back of her head in a moment, and the snarl that ripped through his chest was nothing short of beastly. He pressed her closer, encouraging her as he smoothed out his pace inside of her.

“Do it,” he gritted out in a voice she didn’t recognize.

My monster.

The first explosive pulse of orgasm tensed her body. So good. So right. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Alyssa bit into his skin as hard as she could. Until her jaw ached, until she tasted iron, until the air smelled of pennies and her mouth was filled with warmth. If it hurt him, Clinton didn’t show it. He pulled her closer and went rigid as his dick throbbed hard inside of her. She released his torn skin and gasped, throwing her head back as he rocked inside of her, filling her with jet after hot jet of wetness.

His pace slowed as he dragged out every aftershock. His body twitched, and he hugged her tight and buried his face against her neck. He nipped her there, but nothing more, and she got it. Giving her a claiming mark would mean he would put a bear inside of her, and after killing Amber with one, something deep inside Alyssa said he wouldn’t make the same offer to her, even if she wanted to be a shifter like him.

This would be enough. He had laid a claiming mark on her heart. And maybe others wouldn’t see it, but she and Clinton would always share this beautiful secret. They would always know it was there.

As she held him close in the dark, as she smelled his skin and absorbed the warm safety he emanated, she knew the mark she’d just given wasn’t just some moment of passion.

Clinton had never been Amber’s mate.

The Fates had decided long ago that he was always meant for Alyssa.

“Well, I’m really gonna miss you around here,” Angie murmured, “but I’m really, really happy for you.”

“I’m not!” Bryce called from the background. “I have to do everything around here now.”

Alyssa laughed and shook her head. “I miss you guys, too, but I’ll be back in a few weeks to pick up my things, and we’ll go out and have some fun. And we’ll talk on the phone all the time.” Alyssa pulled into an open space in the giant field outside the park where the Lumberjack Wars had been set up. Her phone beeped, and quick as a blink, she checked the text message that flashed over her screen. It was Beck.
Where are you?!

“Oh, Angie, I have to get going. I’m working an event today, and it’s a big one to get more votes.”

“Two weeks out. Are you nervous?”

“Oh, my gosh, so nervous! I never thought a vote would affect me so much, but Clinton and I can’t move forward at all if the shifters don’t get their rights back. Not legally. We’ll be stuck where we are for always.”

“Well, Bryce and I are rallying here, girl. If you need anything, you just let us know.”

“I will. And Angie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. I mean it. For everything. For encouraging me to come after Clinton, for doing that fundraiser for me to take a vacation here, for setting up this trip, for giving me a job all those years and being such an awesome boss. I owe you so much.”

“No need for thanks. I’m happy to be a part of your story, Alyssa. It’s an incredible one. I’m glad Clinton turned out to be the perfect match for you.”

Butterflies flapped around Alyssa’s middle, and she beamed. “Me, too. I’m happy here.” Her phone beeped again. “Oh, Angie, I really have to go. I’ll call you tonight. Tell Bryce hi and I miss him!”

Bryce called in the background, “Miss you, too! Don’t forget to shave your legs!”

Angie laughed and said her goodbye.

Alyssa hung up and kicked open the door to her Sunfire, then bolted for the trunk. She had four boxes of calendars for the autograph booth, but there was no way her scrawny arms would carry them all at once. She would have to make a couple of trips.

“Let me help,” a giant of a man said from right beside her.

She startled hard and clutched her chest, and Creed, the dark-haired grizzly shifter alpha of the Gray Backs apologized through a lopsided grin. “Beck asked me to wait out front to help you bring this stuff in. Thanks for going back for the extra boxes, by the way. The boys are blowing through the stock Beck brought.”

Over the past few days, she’d met most of the shifters in Damon’s mountains, but she hadn’t ever talked to Creed in person. She arched her neck way back to look him in the eyes when she thanked him. Wow, he was intimidating.

He stacked three boxes in his arms and pointed his chin at her yellow Team Clinton T-shirt. “Nice. I think you’re the only one he gave one to, but be warned, Beck is selling stacks of them right now for the charity. Clinton’s pissed. Says he only wants you wearing one. God, he’s a beast today. Beck will be glad you’re here to help manage him.”

Alyssa grabbed the last box and shut the trunk, then asked, “Why? What’s he doing?”

“Well, it’s the Boarlanders’ shift to sign calendars between their events, and Clinton signed the first twenty or so
don’t masturbate to me
right across his picture. He ruined lots of Januarys before Beck ripped into him, and now he’s just drawing pictures of huge penises on his photograph. I mean, long, flopped out on the ground, smiley-faced dicks everywhere.”

Alyssa cracked up and shook her head. She should be horrified, but that was just Clinton, and likely, his attitude wasn’t going anywhere.

She’d had to park in the back so she maneuvered through a tight place between cars. Probably eight more rows, and they would reach the entrance.

“So,” Creed drawled, looking a little sheepish. “I kind of lied. Beck didn’t send me so much as I volunteered so I could get a minute with you before the chaos of today.”

“Why? What do you need?”

“No, no. Well…first off, I really appreciate all the help you’ve been giving Beck lately with our public relations. With her being newly pregnant and everything, it was a big strain being the publicist for all of us, and I know it’s made a big difference her bein’ able to depend on you. We all really appreciate it. But I also wanted to thank you for whatever you’re doing for Clinton.”

Alyssa slowed, utterly baffled. “What do you mean?”

Creed licked his bottom lip and twitched his head to the side. “Clinton came to Grayland Mobile Park yesterday morning. And that might not seem like a big deal, but he left us badly. Just ran, and we were pissed and hurt that he’d gone to the Boarlanders. He hasn’t visited the park since he left. But yesterday he came and called a meeting, and…” Creed shook his head and jacked up his dark eyebrows under his baseball cap. “Well, Clinton apologized and said he was real happy for all of us and the mates we’ve found. He said he was proud of us.”

Alyssa pursed her lips against her emotions. That was a really big deal for Clinton to own his time with the Gray Backs and to come clean with the guilt he carried leaving like he did. She’d known he had wanted to make amends, but hearing about it from Creed was different. It meant so much that the Gray Backs appreciated the monumental effort it took Clinton to build up to going back there.

“Anyway, I know you have something to do with him being okay now.” Creed bumped her shoulder gently and lowered his voice. “Whatever you’re doing, you’re saving him, and that means the world to me. If you ever need anything, you come to me. I owe you.”

Alyssa smiled emotionally up at him. “He’s the one saving me,” she squeaked out past her tightening vocal cords.

Creed chuckled and waited for her to pass another tight spot between cars before he followed. “And also, it’s pretty badass what you did.”

“What did I do?”

“Clinton has shown everyone in Damon’s mountains that scar on his shoulder. Looks a helluva lot like a claiming mark to me.”

“Oh God, he’s going to get me arrested.”

“Alyssa, the criminal.”

“Quit it,” she muttered.

Creed nodded to the lady at the ticket booth. “She’s a Boarlander.”

And now the butterflies were back. She’d never been called a Boarlander before, but damn, it felt good.

The attendant offered Alyssa a genuine smile, handed her a free drink ticket, and waved her on through without collecting her fifteen dollars.

“Thank you!” Alyssa told her, adjusting the box in her arms. “Wow,” she said to Creed as they made their way down a long, crowded row of food vendors in colorful tents. “I feel VIP.”

He snorted. “Yeah, you can’t marry the man you love, your mark on him is illegal as hell, and you can’t officially register to your crew, but you get into the Lumberjack Wars for free. You’re so lucky.”

“Ha! Stop it. I am lucky.” The luckiest, actually. And if this vote passed, she would be able to do all those things with Clinton someday.

She could tell where the shifters were signing their sexy calendars from all the news cameras. Harrison was standing with a reporter, looking laid back with an easy smile on his face as he talked with her. Beck The Miracle Worker had been training them all in the art of charming the masses, and at this point, all the Boarlanders were comfortable in front of news cameras except for Clinton, highlighted by the fact that, at the moment, he was pelvic thrusting in the background of Harrison’s interview.

She followed Creed through the thick lines that led to the long table where Bash, Kirk, and Damon were sitting. They wore big grins, like they were actually enjoying themselves as they talked with people and signed their pictures on the calendars Beck had organized a couple months ago.

Alyssa had already bought one and had it pinned on the wall of 1010. Clinton was fine as hell, standing in front of his truck, smoke billowing from the chainsaw he held up in the air, his chin lifted, eyes fierce, abs ridiculously sexy, and his holey jeans riding low, giving just a peek at that trail of blond hair that led under his pants. All the months were super sexy, but Mr. January was her favorite by a lot.

“Clinton,” she said at normal volume. She was used to his sensitive hearing now.

He stopped pelvic thrusting and jerked his wild, silver gaze to her. An instant smile took his face, a big one. She lived for those.

She set the box on the table near Beck and turned in time to catch him as he barreled down on her. He picked her up off the ground and nuzzled her neck until it tickled and she laughed and swatted his shoulder. “I heard you’ve been a little terror.”

“Please. I’ve been good all morning.”

“Disagree,” Beck said through a narrow-eyed glare for Clinton. Her red-gold curls bounced as she swung her attention to Alyssa. “I’m really glad you’re here. He behaves better with you around, and I swear to God Clinton, if you stick that middle finger up at me again, I’m gonna claw it off.” Indeed, Beck’s eyes were bright gold. Her snowy owl was likely good and done with wrangling Clinton today.

“I have a surprise for you,” she told Clinton as he settled her on her feet.

“Is it a blow job?” He began frantically looking around at the surrounding tents like he was searching for a private hidey hole for them.

“No! Look.” Alyssa lifted the hem of her jeans and showed him the brand new pair of knee-high yellow gym socks she’d put on this morning. “For luck.”

Clinton spread his arms wide and took a few steps back, nodding his head like she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Slowly, he bent and lifted the leg of his jeans and, sure enough, he had his favorite pair of socks on, too. Alyssa threw her arms around her stomach with her laughter.

“Clinton!” Beck barked out. She held a clipboard and jammed her pen at the chair on the end.

Indeed, the line on that one was backed up and ridiculously long, and people looked impatient.

“I have more surprises, but you have to put in your shift here and stop drawing penises on these nice peoples’ calendars.”

Clinton snarled up his lip and muttered, “Fine.”

“One,” she said, following him to his seat, “I’m down for a BJ tonight if you make Beck’s job easy today. She’s been fighting morning sickness, and she’s stressed. You really will get clawed if you don’t stop pestering her.”

“BJ, yes.” Clinton nodded and signed a calendar for a woman totally excited, bouncing on her toes as she waited. Was that seriously all he’d heard?

“Two, I quit my job at the diner back home today.”

Clinton jerked his attention over his shoulder at her, his blond brows raised high. “Really?”

“Yep, because I landed that management position at Moosey’s,” she blurted excitedly. “Angie put in a good word, and I got the call back from Joey Dorsey today! I nailed the interview.”

“Babe!” Clinton whooped. “I fucking knew you nailed it.” He turned to the crowd. “She nailed it!”

A few confused women in the line gave her a slow clap, and with a chuckle, Alyssa began to organize the lopsided stacks of calendars around Clinton’s cluttered station. Beck handed her a metal box, so she started taking the money and making change for Bash and Clinton’s lines. Beck’s eyes were finally softening to her human green color.

Mason strode through the crowd, Air-Ryder on his shoulders licking a red snow cone and grinning. “Ask your momma,” Mason told him.

“Ask me what?” Beck sounded instantly happier.

“There’s a log throwing event just for kids, and Mason said I could do it if you said it was okay.”

“Well, when is it?”

“In just a few minutes,” Mason said. “They said shifter kids could participate. I already asked.”

When Beck tossed Alyssa a pleading look, she laughed. “Go on, watch your boy. I’ll handle things here until you get back.”

Beck hugged her shoulders and upped her voice to an uncomfortable octave. “Thank you, thank you! I’ll be back right after it’s through, I swear.”

From where he was signing calendars, Bash pointed in the general direction of Alyssa’s tits. “I like your shirt!” He turned his torso and showed Alyssa his own yellow Team Clinton shirt, and she laughed. The rest of the boys were wearing their own team shirts or Boarlander Bears shirts, but Bash was apparently throwing his support in for his ninth best friend.

And when she looked back to Clinton, he was watching the curve of her lips with the softest expression in his eyes. Going all emotional, she hugged his shoulders and rested her cheek against the top of his hair for a moment before he began signing another autograph. Without looking at her, he murmured. “I like you a lot.”

Alyssa lifted her shoulders to her ears and resisted the squeal in her throat. That was a huge admission for him. She knew what he meant, so she lowered her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I love you, too.”

She waited for him to go rigid and back away from her, but he didn’t. Instead, his cheeks tinted in a blush. He smiled at her, kissed her softly, and murmured, “Good.”