Adam (BBW Bear Shifter Wedding Romance) (Grizzly Groomsmen Book 1) (41 page)

Knox backed up and looked her over. “You have a bump on your head. A few scratches. Your cheek’s red. Did he hit you?”

She touched the place on her forehead where she’d banged into Darius, then where he’d slapped her. Her feet, too, hurt and she lifted one, then the other.

“Okay, we need to get back to the house. Can you carry the knife?”

She went over and picked it up.

“Try not to get blood on you.”

In one motion, he picked her up and carried her out of the woods.

It felt weird, knowing he was naked. But she buried her head into his chest and breathed in the smell of his sweat. His arms, tight and strong around her, were like a security blanket. She held the knife away from her and him, trying to do as he’d asked.

She knew when they were close enough to the house for the others to see because they all started calling things out to them at once.

Someone opened the door for them and Knox carried her to the sofa.

“We’ll need to call the police soon,” Knox said. “Someone has been killed by a bear.”

The chatter stopped.
 

“Are you sure he’s dead?” Beck asked.

“I’m sure.” Knox grunted as Slade pressed a towel to his wound.

“You need stitches,” Slade said.

“Now, how’s that going to look,” Knox said. “I go to the hospital for a stab wound and there’s a dead guy in my backyard.” He pulled on a pair of shorts that someone had handed him.

“You have to go, man,” Daxton said. He looked over at Jasmine and took the knife from her.

She was afraid to touch anything with the blood still on her hand.

“First, we need to get Jas cleaned up,” Knox said. “Burn the shirt.”

Amir came to her and helped her up from the sofa. “Let’s go get you in the shower.”

She looked back at Knox with a pained longing. “It’s okay,” he said.

Amir led her upstairs and got her into the shower. He closed the door and said, “I’m not looking, but I need you to take everything off and make sure you scrub everything really well. I’ll get you a towel and something to wear when you get out. Are you wounded?”

“No,” she croaked. She pulled the shirt off and wrapped her underwear in it, then handed them out of the shower. She turned on the hot water and scrubbed, as he’d instructed, until her skin felt sore.

When she shut off the water, Amir handed a towel into the shower. “There’s a shirt out here for you, and shorts. I’m going to stand just outside the bathroom door.”

She dried off and pulled on the clothes. She had to roll the waist band of the shorts several times to get them to stay up. When she came out of the bathroom, Amir took her arm and guided her back downstairs.

Knox was sitting in the kitchen on a chair, Slade inspected his wound.

“Hey, you all cleaned up?” he asked.

She nodded. “Are you…” Okay seemed so far from the truth that it was ridiculous to even ask.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You have to go to the hospital,” she said.

“Good luck,” Slade said. “I’ve been telling him that for twenty minutes.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t have enough medical training to know if it hit anything major. Does it feel like it hit anything major?”

Knox shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt that badly.”

“Yeah, well, you could be going into shock,” Slade said.

The tears returned and Jasmine shook her head. “What if you die?”

Knox looked at her and his tough-guy face softened. “I won’t. It’s really not that bad.”

“He stabbed you!” Her words were getting hysterical now, and she could feel herself losing it.

“Okay, calm down.” He got up, despite Slade hollering at him, and came to her. He held her the best he could.

“At least hold something on it,” Slade said, the disgust obvious in his voice as he pressed the towel to Knox’s stomach again.

“It’s okay, Jas.” He wiped her tears and, while she liked the way it felt and how he called her Jas, which he hadn’t done before today, she didn’t think she’d stop crying anytime soon.

“You—have to—go,” she said through sobs. “I can’t—lose you.”

He took in a deep breath and kissed her.

“I will. Okay? I will. We just have to go somewhere far and we might have to lie a little, okay?”

She nodded and tried to calm herself.

“You stay here and I’ll go and get stitches and come right back.”

“No!” she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Beck came into the kitchen. “You’re in luck. Greg is on his way.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Knox said.

Slade snorted. “Yeah, maybe literally. Stubborn ass.”

“I’d just rather not get us all in trouble or go to jail,” Knox said.
 

“Who’s Greg?” Jasmine asked, wiping away new tears.

“He’s our friend who was in the army,” Beck said. “Luckily, he has plenty of basic medical training and can do stitches. It’s gonna hurt, though. I doubt he has morphine or anything.”

Jasmine sat in the other room while Greg worked on Knox’s wound. Every time he yelled out in pain, she gripped Amir’s hand or Daxton’s hand. Beck and Slade were in there with him, probably holding his hand as he squeezed through the pain, too.

When it started to grow quiet, she heard Greg say, “You’re lucky. It wasn’t bad at all.”

She sagged in relief. He left a short time later, and Knox walked into the living room, leaning toward his injured side.

“We decided it would be best to call about the body tomorrow,” Daxton said. “If it was a real bear attack, we wouldn’t necessarily know right away, and since he was kind enough to not park his car at our house, we wouldn’t know he was here. We’ll say we heard animals in the woods fighting, went to check it out, and found the body.”

Knox nodded. “Sounds good.”

“I wonder if he could be the one who killed the bees,” Beck said. “We found out what caused it. The report came back today. Toxic smoke.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I don’t think he would have been that smart.”

“It does seem a little far-fetched,” Amir agreed.

“I can think of someone who might have had something to do with it,” Daxton said.

“Who?” Slade asked.

“Same people who were pissed when Blair’s store stopped carrying their products. Same people who’ve tried to run us out of business for years.”

“The Harper clan?” Slade asked.

Daxton nodded. “When they found out Blair pulled the SheBear Honey line, her store got egged, and she got threats for weeks. She had to call the cops.”

“I’ll look into it,” Slade said. “Seems like a likely suspect.”

“We’re going to bed,” Knox said. He took Jasmine’s hand and led her slowly up to the bedroom after they’d said goodnight to the guys.

He closed the door behind them and pulled her close. “I will gladly sleep on the floor or downstairs, but I really—”

“No. Please. Stay close.”

He chuckled. “I was going to say that I really want to stay close to you.”

She set her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“I’m sorry you had to do what you had to do. But it’s over now. He can never, ever hurt you again.”

She took in a slow deep breath and wondered how long it’d be before that fact seemed real to her. Knox released her just long enough to slip carefully into bed and pull her close again.

“Tomorrow, I want every detail of what exactly happened,” he said. “I could kick myself for leaving you in the house alone. I just never thought…” He growled softly. “When I saw you run out of the house and him following you, I lost my mind.”

“I’m glad I got out of the house. I didn’t think I was going to get away.” The things that could have happened to her right here in this room... She shivered with the fear of it. But he was right, Darius would never hurt her again.

Knox kissed her, and this time, their kissing became heavy and passionate. His hands caressed her stomach and back. He ran his fingertips over her skin, sending chills of pleasure to replace the chills of fear.

“I want you,” he whispered.

She hadn’t been with anyone but Darius. When she was with him, it was always forceful and often painful. The thought of having sex scared her. But with Knox, she knew it would be different. She felt so safe with him and knew he’d never hurt her. Maybe it could even be good. And she wanted him, too. Her whole body was hot and tingly with his touch.

She dug her fingers into his long hair. “Me too,” she whispered.

“We’ll have to be careful of my wound, but I think we can make it work.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Just… be gentle.”

The look he gave her was so pained and sympathetic at the same time, it melted any hesitation she had left. “I will.” He slipped her over-sized shorts down and touched her.

He was gentle. Almost too gentle. But every time he touched her in a new way, he paused to make sure she was okay. And when he slipped inside her, he did it so slowly, so carefully, that she finally pressed her hips against him to bring him in deeper.

She was surprised at how good it felt. Of course, it was a little awkward with his injury, but that only meant it could get better once he healed. Though, she didn’t see how it could get any better than what he’d made her feel.

When they were finished, and for the first time in her life, she’d felt the rush of pleasure she should have gotten from sex all along, she kissed him up and down his face and neck.

“Was that okay?” he asked.

“Yes, yes.” She laughed. “More than okay.” She rubbed her nose against his and beamed. “I have to tell you. I haven’t known you long, but I think I am falling in love with you.”

He moaned softly and kissed her. “Good, because I’m falling for you, too. I was thinking about something.” He paused to brush a stray hair from her face. “I hate the thought of you going back to that shelter. Move in here, with me.”

“Really? Are you sure?” She hated living in the shelter and even though she made good money now, the thought of having her own place all alone was daunting and gave her anxiety. If she moved in with him, she would feel safe all the time.

“I’m very sure.”

“But what about the others?”

“Already talked to them.”

“You did?” So, this wasn’t a new idea.

“Right after I found out you were staying there.”

She smiled again and felt tears that were tears of joy. “I would love to.”

“Perfect. Then you’ll never be far from me again.”

Ben

Bear Dating Agency II

by

Becca Fanning

When Layla Moss checked out cute guys in her department store, they weren’t usually in the pantyhose section.
 

This one was as fine as they come, barely twenty with a boyish dimple in the corner of his thoughtful mouth. His hair was dark and a little overgrown, eyes hooded by a low, concerned brow. He was studying the varieties of pantyhose with deep intent, his massive torso hunched a little to inspect the rows and rows of boxes. Layla was supposed to be taking new stock to fill the display next to the registers, but she’d stopped in her tracks when she saw him. Now, she was helpless to her own will.

“Just a guess, but I don’t think we stock your size,” she quipped.

The hunk started, as if he hadn’t even realized she was there. When he looked up, his wide gaze of shock flashed with pure gold. Layla jumped too at that. She knew what golden eyes meant, everyone who lived Crenshaw-adjacent did. The guy was a shifter. And yet, he wasn’t anything like the animalistic thugs she’d seen on her streets late at night. He wasn’t foaming at the mouth or searching for a fight. He was genuinely embarrassed to be holding a pack of pantyhose, his cheeks flushing red beneath a dusting of stubble.

“My Gram sent me over here,” the shifter explained, his voice low and apologetic. “I have no idea which of these she wants, but she’s all the way at the other end of the store. Could you-?”

He trailed off, but Layla saw his eyes flash to her name tag. A rush of something totally chemical hit her in the chest, spreading warmth from all angles. She was pretty sure her face was turning pink too, and she thanked her luck that she’d got a little of that cocoa-brown skin tone from her father. Being mixed race covered a multitude of sins. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop her breath hitching like a teenager’s when she next tried to speak.

“She’ll, uh, she’ll want breathable in the summer,” Layla began. She came to stand beside the tall guy, gently taking the box from his hands. “You’ll bake her with those.”

“Ah,” he replied, “I so don’t want that. She’s a real beast when she’s angry.”

Layla looked into the stranger’s golden eyes with fascination.

“I can believe it,” she said.

She might have said more, even teased that secret smile from the cutie’s perfect mouth, but footsteps alerted her. She was relieved to see that the person approaching was not her boss, but this second stranger filled her with nerves all the same. He had golden eyes too, though his seemed to burn with a flame that wasn’t present in the cute guy’s eyes. The new man was a little shorter and more lithe, his lean frame clad in bike leathers. He had bright silver hair, which must have been fake, for he was far too young to be turning grey, and there was a look of deep threat all over his face.