The Bear's Virgin Darling (Honeypot Darlings Book 1) (8 page)

Hope

My first day on the job is pretty straightforward. After a bowl of cold cereal for breakfast, I head up to the main house to report for duty. I’m nervous the entire walk over, but try to remember the worst is over. At least I have the job, right? That’s what’s important. The Blair brothers want me here. They need me here. I’m going to help them turn the ranch around. I’m going to help secure their legacy.

At the front door, I’m not sure whether to knock or just barge right on in. The house belongs to the brothers and both Wyatt and Carter live inside. I know they conduct most of their ranch business from the office inside, but does that mean I can just waltz right on in?

Tentatively, I knock. The last thing I want to do is to accidentally see someone roaming around in his boxers or something.

I lick my lips.

Maybe I shouldn’t have knocked.

Carter opens the door after a moment and leans against the frame. All I can do is smile up at him. He’s wearing sweats with no shirt and I can see every rippled muscle.

“Holy dragons,” I groan.

“Like what you see, darling?”

“You have no idea.” Quickly, I slap my hand over my mouth again and cringe. Seriously? What is with me this week? Carter just laughs and motions for me to follow him.

“Beautiful as you are, hon, I have a feeling my brother would claw me to death just for looking twice at you.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “You understand.”

I don’t, but I nod, anyway.

Is he saying Wyatt’s into me?

Really
into me?

My emotions have been going crazy for a month now. Sometimes I’m not sure how much of my feelings I can really trust. I feel an incredible connection with Wyatt, which is weird because I barely know him.

“Come on back,” Carter is halfway down the hall and I scurry after him, trying not to gaze at their huge house too much. I always pictured a ranch house as either a giant lodge or a small, white-paneled farmhouse. Their home is neither.

It’s a large, two-story home with plenty of space. I haven’t been upstairs, but I’d guess there are at least four bedrooms. Maybe more. There’s enough room that Carter and Wyatt live pretty comfortably together and don’t seem to have any trouble sharing the space.

When I reach the office at the back of the house, Carter hands me a list.

“Wyatt is around this morning, so we’ll get started without him. This is a tentative list of your duties, at least for now. We’ll adjust it as needed.”

“Feed the chickens,” I read. “Weed the house garden. Answer the phone.” I glance up and raise an eyebrow. “So I’m basically an all-purpose helper?”

“Basically,” his eyes twinkle. “Your job is to make mine and Wyatt’s easier. In the mornings, you can feed the chickens. Their coop is just outside of the kitchen. When they’re bigger, they’ll be able to roam around the yard.”

“Good idea. Don’t chickens eat a lot of bugs?”

“Yes. Free range chickens do a great job keeping down the mosquitoes and ticks.”

“That sounds pretty good.” My body feels itchy just
talking
about mosquitoes. “So why not let them out now?”

“They’re not quite big enough to roam around on their own. The concern is that they won’t come back to the cage at night. We just moved them from the barn, actually. We kept them in there under heat lamps until they were old enough to go outside. Now we’ll get them used to the coop, then they’ll be able to go out during the day.”

“Do they lay eggs?”

“Not yet. Once they start, you’ll collect those for us, too.”

Carter leads me out of the office and through the kitchen across the hall. I try not to gawk at the incredible countertops or the stove or the fancy cookware hanging from the walls.

“Damn. Can I be your cook instead?”

“No can do, little lady. That’s my job.”

We go out the kitchen door and sure enough, there’s a mid-size chicken coop out there, complete with a run for them to play in. The housing portion of the coop protects the chickens during the evening. No one wants coyotes nabbing their livestock at night. There’s a little ramp leading to an enclosed area where several chickens are walking around. A few are pecking at the ground.

Carter shows me how to feed the chickens, then gives me a quick tour of the garden. Shoots of green are already popping up in the tiny garden and I can’t wait to get my hands dirty in there. I loved having a garden as a kid and I’ve missed the thrill that comes from helping something grow.

As we walk around the house, I ask Carter about the difference between a farm and a ranch. He explains that ranches are usually bigger, but they also tend to be focused on livestock, rather than crops. The Blair brothers run a cattle ranch, but they do have their own little garden for personal use. They don’t sell the crops they grow.

Since they’re so busy with the business side of things, they don’t have a lot of time to tend to their carrots and radishes. That’s where I come in.

Carter leaves me on my own for awhile and I make myself comfortable weeding. My thoughts roam as I work, but I try to stay focused on the task at hand. Just because they hired me and decided to give me a chance doesn’t mean Wyatt and Carter will be patient if I muck it all up.

Noon rolls around before I know it, and Carter invites me to eat with him. Politely declining, I decide to use my lunch hour to run into town and pick up some groceries. I stock my tiny fridge, then make a sandwich. When I’m finished, I head back to the main house.

“Since it’s so hot in the afternoons, it’s best to work indoors, at least during the summer,” Carter tells me. He shows me to the office and points at one of the desks. Yesterday, it had been covered in papers and books. Now it’s pristine.

“All for me?” I ask, and he nods.

“I’d like you to come up with a plan for online marketing and promotion,” he tells me. “We have nothing right now: no Facebook, no Pinterest, no Twitter. We have a website, but that’s it.”

“So I basically have free reign?” I raise an eyebrow, and he nods.

“You’re the expert,” he says. “Why don’t you come up with a plan for marketing today? Around 4:15, you can tell me what ideas you have before we finish for the day.”

“Sounds good to me.” He leaves and I settle in, ready to get focused on something I know I’m good at. For a brief second, I think about Wyatt. I haven’t seen him all day and I kind of miss that. I’m going to be working here for awhile, if I’m lucky, so I’ll get to see plenty of him, but I’d like to think more about the spark I felt between us.

Maybe I’m over-thinking things. I tend to do that sometimes, especially since the breakup. Part of the problem with Jacob was that I didn’t think things through
enough
. When he came up with an excuse for canceling at the last second or when he was being weird and secretive about his phone, I ignored it. I rationalized his behavior and now I tend to second-guess everything.

When Wyatt was in my cabin yesterday, it felt great. He made me feel so alive, so feral, so fierce.

He made me feel sexy.

The truth is that he’s way out of my league. Now that I’m thinking about it, actually pondering the situation, I realize that. Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen him today. Maybe he wants to let the new girl down easy.

Wouldn’t that be just my luck?

With a sigh, I realize he’s probably got lots of women after him: women like Savannah and Selena. He’s probably got women after him who are smarter, sexier, and thinner than me.

“Those are some heavy thoughts.”

“Wyatt,” I spin around in my chair and look up at him. He’s standing in the doorway in his jeans, flannel, and boots. He’s muddy and dirty, but he’s so damn sexy that I don’t even notice. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That was a pretty loud sigh,” he looks concerned. “Are you okay, Hope?”

“Yeah,” I gulp. I’m not ready to tell him what I was thinking about. He’s not ready for the insecure bundle of my true emotions. No, I need to learn to get myself under control, maybe date around a little, maybe have a bit of fun, and
then
I’ll be ready for someone like Wyatt Blair.

He strides into the room and takes a seat in one of the desk chairs. He props his dirty boots up on the desk and raises an eyebrow, as if he’s quietly challenging me to tell him not to mess up his desk.

“How was your morning?” I ask, trying not to stare at his jeans, trying not to think what his dick will feel pressed against me as we kiss, trying not to imagine how he would feel thrusting deep inside of me.

“Productive,” he says. “Alex and I finished fixing the fence line.”

“Did you find your calf?” I ask, and he nods, but he suddenly looks troubled. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s strange,” he comments. “We found him wandering just outside the property line, a ways down from a hole in the fence.”

“That makes sense, though, doesn’t it?” I ask. He had mentioned yesterday they had some trouble with their calf.

“Sometimes fences are damaged, but this was a different hole than the one Alex found yesterday. Usually I wouldn’t read too much into it, but the fence didn’t look like it had been damaged by an animal.” Now he frowns. “It looks like the fence was cut.”

“Cut? What, like, by a person?”

He nods. “I can’t imagine who would do it, or why, but that’s what it looks like. We’ve never dealt with anyone sabotaging our property before and to be honest, I’m not sure how to handle it.”

He looks frustrated, lost, and I’m filled with the sudden urge to comfort him. That’s when I remember I’m trying to change. The old me would have simply nodded and offered some hollow words of encouragement to try to get him feeling better, but the new me?

The new me is bold and sexy as fuck.

I stand up and move toward him. He looks at me, but doesn’t drop his legs from the desk. Wyatt raises an eyebrow.

“Can I help you, Hope?”

“I think so,” I say. “I have this problem.” I push his legs down so he’s sitting back in his chair, but his feet are on the floor. His hands are still folded in his lap.

“What kind of problem?”

“The kind of problem only a big, strong, sexy man can fix,” I murmur, and I raise a leg and sling it over him so I’m straddling his lap. My hands go on his shoulders and I’m sitting on him. I’m sitting on Wyatt. I’m sitting on my boss and my pussy is soaked and I’m so horny I might just die.

Inside, I’m shaking. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Who is this wanton and where is the trembling, fearful me?

Oh yeah, I left that bitch in Missouri.

Sexy me has come out to play.

“You’re playing with fire,” he says. His words come out husky with arousal, with need, and I feel his cock harden beneath his jeans.

That’s when I know I’ve got him.

I lean in close, brushing my lips against his cheek as I move to his ear, and I whisper, “Maybe I’m not scared to get burned.”

That’s all it takes. I’ve freed the beast that is Wyatt Blair and he growls, fists my hair back and kisses me. It’s fire and passion and need all wrapped into one. This is no gentle kiss. This isn’t anything like Jacob Clint ever had to give. No, this is the kind of kiss a man gives a woman when he has nothing to hold him back.

His other hand grips my ass and I grind against his dick while he kisses me. All rational thought flees and I forget that this is probably a bad idea. The only thing I know is that I need this, I need him, and I need this moment.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He murmurs through the kiss, and I nod, but don’t answer. He thrusts up, rubbing his cock hard against my core, and I moan.

“Wyatt,” I whisper. “Wyatt. Wyatt.” He stands then, lifting me like I’m weightless, and my legs wrap around him automatically. He drops me onto his desk, pushing papers and pens to the floor. He’s careful not to drop his laptop, though, in a moment of rational thought.

I groan as he continues kissing me, but his hands roam my front. He palms my breasts over the thin fabric of my shirt, then slowly pushes my top up and over my breasts, revealing my black lace bra.

“Oh, fuck me,” he murmurs. “Hope, you’re so fucking sexy. Look at these gorgeous tits, baby. Just look at them.”

And then he just looks at me for a moment, and I feel like I could fly. I feel like a fucking goddess, like I’m powerful and sexual and free.

When Wyatt looks back up at me, he’s a man on a mission.

“I’m going to make you scream my name now,” he says. “Hold on tight, baby.”

Wyatt

Her body tenses when I tell her I’m going to make her scream, and the room is filled with the scent of Hope’s arousal.

Fuck, she smells so good.

Her shirt is up above her breasts and I pull it the rest of the way off, then unclasp her bra and toss it to the side. She blushes as I get my first good look at her two sweet, creamy tits. Her nipples are pink and already hard, just begging to be licked.

“I’m going to taste you,” I tell her. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Hope. Fuck.” I can’t deny myself any longer, so I lean down and suck one of her sweet nipples into my mouth. She leans her head back and groans when I do.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yeah,” she breaths out. “That feels so good, Wyatt. Don’t stop. Please, oh, just don’t stop.”

I chuckle as I start playing with her other nipple. My tongue licks and flicks at one while my fingers twist and pinch the other. She wiggles on the desk and my dick gets even harder, if that’s possible.

“Tell me what you like, baby,” I say, taking a breath, looking up at her. Her face is flushed and pink and she stares down at me, watching me with interest and excitement. “Do you like it rough? Gentle?” I bite her nipple between my teeth and exert just a little bit of pressure until she squeaks. “Just a bit of pain? Tell me what you want, Hope. Tell me what you need.”

I want to make her come, make her cry my name on the desk. My hand rubs her pussy through her jeans and she grinds up against my hand, moving in time with my every touch.

“Tell me, Hope. Tell me what you want.”

She shakes her head, and I think it’s because she’s so turned on that she can’t think straight, but she murmurs, “I don’t know, Wyatt. I don’t know. Just don’t stop. Oh, please, don’t stop what you’re doing.”

But when her words register in my mind, something clicks and I pull back, looking at her questioningly.

“Wait, what?” I ask. My dick is still rock hard and I’m still breathing heavily, but my head is starting to clear. What does she mean she doesn’t know what she likes? How is that possible? Unless she’s-

But the blush on her face tells me everything I need to know.

Hope closes her eyes and bites her lip, but not in excitement anymore. She’s stopped grinding on my hand and I pull it back, suddenly surprised things escalated as quickly as they did, especially given the circumstances.

Hope is no longer turned on. Her scent has changed, and it’s not arousal that fills the air. No, my little darling is embarrassed, and I have a feeling that I know exactly why.

“You’re a virgin,” I say, but it’s not a question. It never was.

She opens her eyes and nods, and I can tell it hurts her to admit it to me. Why is she embarrassed about it? There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. Though coming from Hope, it surprises me simply because she’s so damn gorgeous. She’s got huge breasts and hips I can sink my fingers into. The men in Holbrook must have been complete idiots to have let her pass them by.

“Hope,” I whisper, and I’m just about to reassure her, just about to tell her that it’s okay, that I don’t mind, that we can go slow, but the front door slams and we hear footsteps in the hall.

“Wyatt!” Carter calls out. “Where are you? Hey! Wyatt!” He’s storming down the hall and he’s going to be here any second. Hope’s eyes go wide and she quickly grabs for her clothes, pulling them back on. I move to the door to meet Carter before he sees her, but he’s already at the entrance to the office. He looks from me to Hope and back again, then clears his throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were, um…” His eyes twinkle, and I can tell he’s not sorry at all.

“What is it?” I grit out, enunciating every word clearly. This had better be fucking good because I can tell Hope is about to shut down and shut me out. Dammit. Has no one ever appreciated her before? Her uniqueness? Her bravery?

But Carter is suddenly all business and Hope sits back at her desk and starts typing, ignoring us and pretending nothing just happened.

“Alex just told me someone left the chicken coop open and the birds are out. All of them.” He glances at Hope, who has turned around in her seat.

“Holy dragons,” she whispers, pressing her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I swear I locked the coop after you showed me how to feed them, Carter, I’ll go round them up right now. I-“

“Hope,” he says, “it wasn’t you. I saw you lock the coop myself. This was someone else.”

“What? Who?”

“There have been a lot of weird things happening over the last few days, Wyatt, and I’m starting to think they aren’t just coincidences.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The missing calf, the random damaged fencelines, the coop. I think someone is trying to cause us trouble.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“Could be anything,” Carter shrugs, but I think he has a theory.

“Any ideas?”

“Maybe someone got wind of the fact that we’re planning to expand and didn’t like it. Another ranch, maybe. I don’t know. All I know is that we’ve been so busy chasing our tails the last few days that we haven’t had much time to focus on anything else.”

I sigh and sit back in my seat because my brother is probably right. We’ve been pouring all of our time and energy into playing catch-up that we haven’t been able to work through the details of our expansion at all.

“Maybe we’re being paranoid,” I say, but we all know we aren’t. Honeypot might be a shifter town, but not all shifters get along. Just because you’re similar to someone doesn’t mean you’re automatically going to be best friends, and competition between businesses can be fierce.

“What if we aren’t?” Carter asks.

I look from Carter to Hope and back again, but I don’t have an answer for him. If someone is trying to ruin our ranch, I have to find out who it is, and I have to stop him.

No matter what the cost.