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Authors: Georgette St. Clair

BOOK: Hard To Bear
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“To New York?
Are you and Flint’s mother secretly conspiring here?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” her mother said happily, with no sarcasm whatsoever.  “Do you have her number?”

“No! She doesn’t have a phone! She’s a bear, she lives in a treehouse! With no phone service!” Coral hung up in exasperation.

Flint was laughing at her.

“A treehouse?” he said.

“She makes me crazy,” Coral grumbled. “Hey,
why are we pulling up in front of your house?’


You’re spending the night.”

“I am no
t! I demand you take me home!”

“It’s not safe.
So, no.”

He got out, walked around, and opened her door for her.

“I can sling you over my shoulder and carry you in, if that’s what it takes.”


You big, macho jerk! Stupid bear!”

“Stubborn wolf. Do I need to pull you out of the car? I’m not taking no for an answer.”
  He stood there, looming over her.  It was starting to rain, little sprinkles pattering on the car’s windshield, and big dark clouds bunched overhead in the night sky promised another mini tropical gale.

Scowling, she scrambled out of the car and followed him
inside, where he led her to the living room.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, sinking into an obscenely comfortable overstuffed leather couch. “
I didn’t bring a change of clothes, either.  And by the way I’m still mad at you.”

“I’
ll get you a nightshirt to sleep in.” 

The air was chilling again with the evening rainstorm.   Flint walked over to the flagstone fireplace and started building a fire.   The room had been decorated with a masculine touch, with dark cherry wood bookcases, a collection of antique guns displayed on the wall, and dark leather furniture. 

She was alone under the same roof with Flint McCoy.  That never ended well.  Or it ended very well, depending on how you looked at it.

Still, she thought, leaning back into the couch’s yielding softness, after meeting Flint’s family and seeing how he interacted with them, she couldn’t believe he was up to anything nefarious.

She’d been teetering between wondering if he was somehow involved with the shifter disappearances and thinking that he must be there to investigate them.   Now she was leaning strongly towards thinking that he was there to investigate.  A man who loved his family as much as he did wouldn’t tear another family apart by kidnapping someone, would he?

             
“Try this brandy,” Flint said, handing her a crystal snifter.  She took a sip, and tried not to moan aloud at the delicious sensation of warmth that spread through her.

             
He settled down next to her and took a sip of brandy from his own glass.   She could feel his body heat radiating from him, and that smell of male musk tickled her nostrils.  She drew it in slowly, savoring it.

             
“How often do you come back to Blue Moon Junction?” she asked him.

             
“Not often enough, according to my family.  On holidays, and usually for a few weeks over the summer.  I travel a lot for my business.  So what are your plans after you leave Blue Moon Junction?” he asked.

“I guess go back to New York, work on a big newspaper.  I don’t know. What about you?”

“I don’t know. Originally I was sure I’d go back to Seattle, but I do miss being close to my family.  They’re asking me to stay here.”

Coral felt a sharp tug of longing.  Was he hinting? What did he want her to say?

“They’re wonderful,” she said. “I can understand how you’d want to stay close to them. “

She took another sip of brandy and shuddered in pleasure.  “
Mmmm,” she murmured. “Delicious.”

Flint set down his cup of brandy.

“Do you know what it does to me when you do that?” he demanded.

“Do what?” she asked inno
cently.

“The way you look when you’re drinking that brandy…I’m actually jealous of a glass of liquor right now.  I want you to look at me like that.”

The fire crackled and popped, and she felt a wave of warmth sweeping over her.  She squirmed in her seat and tugged at the neckline of her shirt.  “Is it hot in here?” she murmured.  She set down her glass of brandy next to his.


Is it? Maybe we should get some of those clothes off of you,” he growled.   Before she could protest he’d pulled her to him and bent down, claiming her mouth in a devouring kiss.             

She found herself kissing back, pressing against him.  She couldn’t help herself; she loved the feeling of his strong, muscular body.  She’d always felt so big and ungainly next to her dates.  She should have realized the solution long ago: date a bear.

He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her up against him, and she found herself flattened against the wall with his tongue swirling around hers in an intimate duet.

Hot desire washed over her, and an urge
to know once and for all what his cock tasted like. 

She pulled away from the kiss slowly, and sank down to her knees
onto the fluffy sheepskin rug that was spread out in front of the sofa.  His huge erection was straining at the fabric of his jeans, and she ran her fingers along it, tracing the outline of it as he yanked open his belt.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned,
lifting his hips and sliding his pants down.

His rigid cock jutted upward from its thatch of curly brown hair.  She lightly ran her tongue around the head, wrenching a moan of pleasure from him.  A
gleaming white pearl of pre-cum oozed out, and she lapped it up.  It was sweet and salty at the same time.

She opened her mouth and guided him in, sucking hard, and he let out a gasp of pleasure, and began moving his hips as she bobbed her head.  Relaxing her throat, she let him thrust deep into her
mouth, and sucked hard, at the same time squeezing at the base of his shaft with her hand.

“You’re killing me. Oh, God, your mouth feels so good,” he moaned.

He thrust in again, and she sucked at him hungrily.  At the same time she reached back with her free hand and scraped at his ball sack gently with her nails.  He shuddered with pleasure, his fingers tangling in her hair and guiding her head.

His breathing grew harsher and harsher, until he exploded
in her mouth. Hot, salty cum flooded her mouth, and she swallowed eagerly.  His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her there as he came and came, and she kept sucking, tongue swirling, until he finally released her and fell back on the couch.

“Oh my God…
ohhhh....” he groaned, as she eased his cock out of her mouth.

She stood up, as he stepped out of his jeans.  “If that’
s how you show that you’re mad at me, I hope I can make you furious,” he said, and suddenly he scooped her up and slung her over his shoulders.

“Hey!” she cried, her hair dangling down, jolting with each step as he strode up the stairs to his bedroom.
“You big caveman! What are you doing?”

“Hopefully I’m making you good and mad again,” he said. 

He set her down on the bed, and stripped off the rest of his clothes as she quickly did the same.

In one swift motion, he bent her over the bed, and kicked her legs apart.  She clutched at the bed
sheets, her face resting on the silky comforter.  He caressed her buttocks with one hand, and with his other hand stroked the wet petals of her sex, gently, teasingly.


Mmmmm,” she whimpered, squirming where she stood.  A hot gush of liquid desire flowed through her, and she lay helpless, knees turning to jello, as he stroked her again and again.

He slid his hand further for
ward, the pad of his thumb rubbing her clitoris, and she let out a gasp that was almost a sob.  The pleasure was exquisite. A burning bank of desire swelled inside her.

“Like that, baby?” he growled, his voice husky with desire.

“Yes,” she pleaded. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

“I love your ass.  It’s so soft and round and perfect.” He slapped it lightly. She yelped in pleasure, squirming in place, rubbing herself up against his hand shamelessly.

He smacked again, harder, and she couldn’t restrain her gasp.  

“You like it rough, baby? I can give it to you rough.”

His hand began descending on her ass in a stinging barrage of slaps, and at the same time, he rubbed her clit harder.    She’d never felt anything like it.  The pain and pleasure swirling together into one intense sensation, and he kept spanking harder and harder, until a supernova exploded inside her belly.


Ohhhhh,” she wailed helplessly, and he thrust three fingers inside her as she came.

“I can feel your muscles squeezing me
, baby. Oh, that’s so good. Come for me, princess.”

And she
did, her muscles spasming and squeezing him, her whole body shaking with the force of her orgasm.  She heard ripping, and crinkling, and then he’d rolled a condom onto his cock and shoved himself inside her tight, wet tunnel, and she was still coming.

“Oh, God,” he said moving inside her.  “Oh, yes. That’s good. Oh, my God-”

And then he exploded too, pressing deep inside of her and clutching her hips so hard she knew there would be fingerprint bruises in the morning.

“Oh, you bad girl,” he groaned, pulling out of her. “See what you made me do? You’re so fucking hot, I came in like sixty seconds.”

“I am a bad girl,” she panted, as he trailed his fingers across the stinging skin of her butt cheeks. “You could spank me again, if you wanted to.”

             

Chapter
Thirteen

             

The next
morning, they finally made some progress.   Coral came in early and made numerous phone calls and Bettina used her computer skills, and between the two of them they managed to track down what appeared to be the original purchaser of several of the parcels.  It was a company named Metamorph.  They were based out of an Eastern European country called Kazmekistan, but had a branch in the United States based in California. According to their corporate records, they manufactured pharmaceuticals.

Metamorph
had set up numerous shell corporations to make purchases of at least three of the parcels, including the one adjacent to the parcel where the three ley lines were known to cross. Coral and Bettina still hadn’t been able to find the purchaser of that property, but she suspected that it was also Metamorph.

“A pharma
ceuticals company? That is odd,” Coral said.  “I wonder why they’d want property in that location.  It’s out in the middle of nowhere. It’s hardly well-suited to construction if they wanted to build new facilities.  And why did they work so hard to disguise the fact that they bought the property?”

“Call them and see what kind of comment you can get,”
Mr. Brewster said. “And hurry up. It’s six hours later there.”

Metamorph
didn’t have a website or any public listing of their telephone number, but Bettina managed to find their telephone number on their incorporation documents, which were public record and available online.

“You’re good,” Coral said.
“Seriously.  You should consider being a reporter.”

Bettina beamed at the compliment.

Frederick had wandered up.  “She is really good, isn’t she?” he said eagerly.  He turned to Bettina.  “Can’t we at least be friends?” he asked. “I miss hanging out with you.”

Bettina glanced at Coral, who shook her head.

“Call me when you’ve made up your mind. I’m going to the Donut Hole on a cruller run,” she said, and grabbed her purse and walked out.

“I’m off to do some investigating.  And Bettina’s too good for you.”  Coral grabbed the phone and called the number Bettina had dug up for her.

The woman who answered the phone sounded less than delighted to hear from her.

             
When she told the woman who she was, the woman cut her off with a “We don’t speak to the press,” managing to make it sound as if the word “press” was synonymous with “pustulant syphilitic leper”.  Then the woman hung up.

             
When Coral tried to call back, the call went straight to voicemail.

             
She waited ten minutes, and then called again, using her cell phone this time.

             
“We’re publishing a story on your property purchase, whether you comment or not, so you might want to give your side of the story,” she said, without giving the woman on the other end time to hang up on her.

             
There was a long, angry pause.

“I know you’re there,” Coral said. “I can hear you breathing.”

“You will be hearing from our legal department,” the woman said finally, and hung up again.

“Bitch.”
Coral muttered.

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