Bear Pause (BBW / Bear Shifter Romance): A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance (Bear Fursuits Book 6) (10 page)

Laura hung around instead of heading home. Just like a lovesick teenager she mocked herself. The stables were humming. Four stable hands were shoveling horse apples and wet straw. Carlos and Steve were currying Ranger and Cloud. She walked down Aisle Three to stand outside Ranger’s stall.

“Hey, Miss Laura,” Steve said respectfully. Ranger tossed his head and curveted a little, seeking her hand.

Laura reached into her pocket and brought him out a treat. “Was he a good boy?” she asked.

“He tried to dump me three times, if that’s what you mean by good.” Steve chuckled.

“He should be better behaved than that,” she said sternly.

Steve chuckled. “He was, once he realized I meant business. Cut a frisky little calf out of the herd, despite his momma thinking he was too young to be dipped. The calf, not Ranger.”

“Did you?” Laura crooned into the big ear that turned to her voice. She scratched Ranger’s forelock and he tossed his head away from Steve’s brush.

Steve controlled the big stallion with effortless ease. He leaned closer to Laura. “I’ll come by later,” he murmured softly. “He’ll make a first rate cow pony once he decides that he has to work,” he said in his normal voice.

Laura laughed and continued her rounds before heading home. She planned her strategy carefully. She took her time in the bathroom shaving her legs and tidying her bush. Somewhere she had a really sexy bra and panty set. Aunt Diana had given it to her last Christmas and she had stuffed it in her bottom drawer.

She pulled them out. They were an okay color. Palest blue lace. She tried on the panties, they were little more than two strips of lace. Butt floss. She wrestled them on. They were sexy enough if exposing your fluff was sexy. Her pubic hair was bisected by the blue lace rather than concealed beneath it.

The bra wasn’t too bad. It actually fit. It was just that it was so low cut that her girls threatened to spill out of the cups. She pulled on her favorite tunic. The modest V-neck suddenly revealed a slice of cleavage. She turned from side to side, trying to decide if she looked sexy or just sloppy.

Now where were her good jeans? The dark wash ones that weren’t cut for riding or baling hay. They slid on just fine but required her to find some heels to ensure they wouldn’t drag on the ground. She couldn’t wear cowboy boots with these jeans. She found the box with the strappy, four-inch heels she had worn to some forgotten party.

Not too bad. Her hair fell away from her face in shining waves. Her lipstick was on straight and her eyelashes and eyebrows had been darkened just enough. Jewelry? There were mama’s pearls, but pearls weren’t glamorous enough. She found a long chain that Daddy had given her years ago and a pair of earrings she hadn’t worn since college. They dangled alluringly from her earlobes. She had better keep out of the stable, if she didn’t want to frighten the horses with all this glitter.

So now she was all dressed up, would Steve be coming calling?

He didn’t show up at supper, or afterwards. Of course, she hadn’t invited him to eat with her. This whole business was awkward. But he had said he would come. She went early to bed, leaving Daddy reading in the living room. Her disappointment felt like an old friend. Steve was sprawled in the armchair in her room, but he stood up when she walked in.

“How did you get in here?” Why was her voice breathless?

He chuckled. “I climbed the fence around the pool deck and found the door unlocked.” He gestured at the sliding glass door.

“Oh.”

“I wanted to kiss you goodnight.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t move, he just looked at her. She remembered she had dressed up and felt her face flame.

“You do look pretty,” he said.

* * *

Her room had surprised him. He had figured practical, no nonsense, blue jeans and cowboy boots Laura would be sleeping in some efficient capsule designed for slumber, and getting clean in five minutes in some spartan bathroom. Instead the huge room was a cool, soft bower. More like an underwater grotto than the stripped down space he had imagined.

The walls were papered in some rippling fabric that shimmered a soft blue-green. Black and white photos of horses lined the walls. He had expected those. Her bed was big and framed by elegant poles that looked like elongated and modernistic spears. They held a transparent white veil over the mattress like a canopy over a princess.

It was a soft and relaxing room. A pretty space. Virginal. Sweet. And yet sophisticated. Laura was thirty-three, surely she wasn’t a virgin? But here in her own space, she didn’t seem very confident, or very experienced. Just grimly determined. What was that all about?

On his way to her, his boots caught on the silky Chinese rug and he stumbled slightly. Definitely a girly room. He kissed Laura as he had been waiting to do since breakfast. She was blushing hotly but her lips pressed back. He slid his hands down her back to her waist and pulled her forward a little roughly.

She sighed a little and leaned into him. He moved his lips down along her jawline to her earlobe. Metal poked his questing tongue and he released her to remove the sparkly nonsense she was wearing there. He looked around and saw a bowl on the dresser. He put the earring there and returned to his task.

She murmured and exposed her neck while he nuzzled his way from ear to hairline. Her arousal ramped up and her delicate fragrance filled his nostrils. He had been hard all day, but he got harder. She turned in his arms so their mouths met again and opened so he could sweep inside.

All that blonde hair he had been lusting after since dawn, was falling over his hands and face. The gentle tickle of those curls was the most titillating thing he had ever felt. Laura had to be some sort of a witch. They were breathing hard and her magnificent bosom was heaving against the thin silk of her blouse when he pushed them apart so he could look at her. Laura swallowed. Her face went from apricot to crimson. Pearly white teeth gripped her full lower lip. It was swollen and bare of lipstick.

“We don’t have to do this if you’ve changed your mind,” he groaned into her hair.

Most females got a little warm and fragrant around him. He was used to knowing if a pass would be welcomed. But although Laura smelled like a sex goddess, and she had him as hard as Colorado granite, he couldn’t tell if she was really ready. He had been trying for weeks, but he just could not read this woman. Usually he could tell how much a woman desired him, but something about his mate was interfering with his bear senses.

Wary blue eyes met his. “Do you want to stop?” she asked.

She sounded so uncertain and worried that he pulled her hand over his aching, rock-hard package and let her feel for herself how little he wanted to call a halt. “I’ve been like this for three weeks,” he swore. “But my strength is as the strength of ten. I can leave if that’s what you want.” He hoped that was true.

She squeezed him lightly, experimentally. She bit her lip again and then her tongue flicked over it, a little pink leaf winking at him. He nearly lost it right there.

“That thing’s loaded,” he warned her. “On a hair trigger. It’ll go off if you’re not careful.”

He might have told her that she had put her fingers on a hot iron she yanked them away so quickly. She looked abashed and bashful and enticingly sensual, with her blonde curls tousled into a wanton mess by his fingers. “Don’t go,” she whispered huskily.

“If you’re sure?”

She nodded, but her blue eyes were wide and anxious. He kissed her softly because he wanted to and because every instinct told him this was the most important night of his life. This wasn’t just sex. This was forever after. Laura needed reassurance. From everything that Rosa had said in the last three weeks he had gathered that Laura didn’t date much. She had had a couple of unhappy love affairs in college with a pair of creeps and nothing since.

She had been sleeping alone in her sweet little bower. Maybe she had some fantasies he could fulfill, but for certain they were not going to rush this. Patient. He had to be patient. He picked her up by the waist and walked back to the big armchair and sat down with her on his lap. Kissing. They had to start with kissing.

Her hands were firm on his cheeks, he was glad he had taken time to shave. He hadn’t thought this morning that his morning beard would have been scouring her delicate skin. He was doubly glad he had held back. Laura wasn’t the kind of woman who would be comfortable wearing beard rash to the office.

She kissed him. A soft and tentative brushing of her plushy lips against his. She pulled back and sipped at the corner of his mouth. And then she kissed along the edge of his lower lip to the other side. She sighed and pressed a little harder against his mouth. He imitated her delicate little kisses and then nibbled at her full lower lip until her mouth opened on a breathy gasp.

He let his tongue just slip past her lip to taste the sensitive edge. His tongue moved gently, lingeringly, along the inner contours of her mouth. From one side to the other. Learning what she liked, what made her breath hitch and her ass squirm. Her hands were burrowing in his hair, shaping his skull and holding him closer. When her fingers found his ears and began to outline them he shuddered in her arms.

His skin dampened and his cock hardened even more under the delicious pressure of her bottom and thighs. His ordnance was locked and loaded. But even though she smelled more enticing every moment, his Laura was not ready for anything more. He groaned into her mouth and she opened a little and slid her tongue shyly against his.

He could taste her increasing arousal in the musky flavor she was sharing with him. He sampled and approved. His she-bear was coming into season for him, just as she should. It was the right time of year for it, but he suspected that Laura had kept her bear caged her whole life and it was not ready to leave its prison, even though he had unlocked the doors.

He angled his mouth so he could reach her satiny jawline and made a discovery. His Laura was wearing foundation. Her peaches and cream complexion didn’t need any, but there was no point in saying so. She was just beginning to relax a little and explore her passionate nature. He didn’t want to interrupt with compliments she might take amiss.

Her fingers were fiddling with the snaps of his shirt. She popped them open with a little giggle that he sipped from her lips. Then her fingertips were playing with the curls she found on his chest. She ruffled through them, following the line of his pecs and tracing the outline of his nipples. She pinched one lightly and he bucked so hard she rose off his lap. This made her giggle harder and go looking for the other one.

But she stopped before she got there and yanked her mouth from his. Her eyes went to the white scars over his heart. “You got hurt,” she accused.

“Some,” he admitted. “I was a soldier. That’s what happens.”

She placed her palm flat over his heart. “You could have died.” Her eyes were full of tears.

“Yeah. But I didn’t.” He gripped her shoulders and got her eyes locked on his. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me because I’m lucky enough to have scars. Because there are lots that came home in a box.”

She nodded. “How did it happen?”

“Which time?”

“You were wounded more than once?”

“Sure.”

“Is that why you left the service?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “Do you mind if we have this conversation another time? I had planned on touching your breasts tonight.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Laura gawked at Steve.

“May I touch your breasts?” he pleaded.

She nodded.

Steve cupped her left breast in his right hand and let the heavy mound settle into his palm, while he continued his slow exploration of Laura’s neck. The glorious weight made his palm tingle, but he had to remember that this was all about pleasing his mate. He let two fingers trace the outermost edge of that breast. By the time he had reached the side, Laura was quivering and the nipple was stiff.

He kept his touch tantalizing and slow as he made his way to the upper slope. She sighed. A gasping, wheezing cry of longing. He kissed her mouth and let her feel the slow slide of his tongue on her full lower lip. She pressed her tongue against his and he lured her into his mouth and a leisurely exploration of his own sensitive tissues.

He was still learning the delectable contours of her breast. Still a long way from the straining tips. She pressed into his reconnoitering fingers but he kept the pace glacial. She sucked his tongue hard and he nearly came in his shorts. But a man had to be strong for his woman. He ended his survey of her breast just short of the areola. She tried to make him come back but he distracted her by moving his right hand into her hair and massaging her scalp.

“May I touch the other side?” he asked meekly.

“Yes, yes.”

He permitted himself a growl in her other ear and licked his way around the rim while he mapped the beauties of her right breast. Kiss, nibble, lap, abandon. Caress, taunt, graze. He brought Laura to fever pitch with the lightest of touches. When he decided he had had enough, his fingers could feel the moistness of her skin through her blouse and bra.

“May I take your blouse off?” he implored.

“God, yes.”

He took his time. Her waist needed to be admired and caressed. Her navel needed a sweet, wet kiss and a puff of warm breath. Laura giggled softly. She was relaxed and happy now.

“You have such soft skin,” he murmured against her belly. “I don’t want to scratch you with my rough hands.”

“I like the feel of your hands,” she said, her breath hitching.

He blew a raspberry just under her breast by way of thanks and was greeted by a gurgle of laugher and fingers twining in his hair. He hadn’t had a haircut in three weeks, and there was enough length that she could tug.

“I thought you were going to take my blouse off,” she protested.

He stood up, set her on her feet, and kissed her on the cheek. “You’ve made me lose my place,” he said regretfully. “Now I’ll have to start over.”

“Steeeve.”

“Don’t be so impatient, darlin’,” he drawled. “I bet you just tear the wrapping paper off at Christmas,” he said reproachfully.