The Billionbear's Bride: BBW Bear Shifter BWWM Paranormal Romance (10 page)

Bruce heard a loud
crack
and felt a flash of pain, but it wasn't enough to distract him. The bullet must have just glanced him. He rose up on his hind legs and batted the pistol away so that it skittered across the sand.

Another backhand and the man threatening his mate was on the ground with a bloody face. Bruce towered over the prone figure. Its throat was exposed; it would be an easy kill. And nothing—no gun, no friend—could stop him now.

Except for one thing. A whimper came from behind him. A whimper Bruce recognized as belonging to his mate.

His bear stilled. His human mind wasn't gone in this form, just subdued, and it came to the forefront of his consciousness now.
What if
, it whispered,
Violet's been hurt by the gunshot?

His prey was unconscious, and no threat to them any longer. Bruce shifted back to his human form.

It was chilly and foggy, and Bruce was buck-ass naked. Goosebumps ran up and down his skin. But he had to get to Violet and make sure she was okay.

She had fallen down in the sand. As he drew closer to her, she shrank away from him. Her eyes were huge and wet; she couldn't talk, but she made a frightened sound in the back of her throat.

He tried to speak gently through the adrenaline; she was probably in shock. "Violet, are you—" He knelt next to her, not too close, and reached for her gag.

She shook her head violently, flinching away from his touch.

They were interrupted by another figure running down the dune toward them. High heels kicked up sand behind her, and as she came close, the moonlight illuminated her face. It was Wanda.

She looked frantic. "Bruce—Bruce, I heard a gun go off—are you—" She spotted Violet. "Oh my god, Violet!"

Wanda dropped in the sand next to her friend and began untying her restraints immediately. She struggled with the gag, finally pulling it down over Violet's chin; Violet's relief was immediate.

She gasped and her head fell to Violet's shoulder. A great, heaving sob wracked her frame.

"Did you see—did you see what happened—" Violet choked on the words.

Reluctantly, Wanda nodded.

"So you saw Bruce—" Her words seemed to fail her.

Wanda hesitated. "His transformation? Yeah."

Violet sniffled. "You don't seem surprised …"

Wanda bit her lip and traded a look with Bruce.

"This is what you wanted to talk to me about earlier, isn't it?" Violet asked between hiccups, her shoulders shaking. Wanda nodded. "Both of you! You were keeping secrets from me!"

She pushed herself to her feet, ignoring Wanda and Bruce's protests. When Wanda tried to grab her arm, Violet jerked it away—and began running away from them both.

"
Shit
," said Bruce with feeling. Violet moved in a dazed and confused zigzag, and there was a good chance she would hurt herself. On the other hand, there was Jim to think of.

Wanda seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Go after her," she instructed, and gestured toward the restraints that had been used on his mate. "I'll take care of
him
. And call the police."

He didn't need his bear to track Violet; she hadn't gone far. He could hear her choked sobs over the soft sound of the ocean's tides.

She was kneeling—no, she had stumbled and fallen to her knees in the sand.

"Violet," he said gently as he approached. He didn't want to surprise her.

She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes pleaded with him.  Bruce knelt next to her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

She sniffled again. "I think I hurt my ankle," she said unwillingly.

"May I?" He held out a hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Violet shifted to place her ankle warily in his hands. Her skin was so smooth and soft; if they were in a different situation, he would have been thinking about something else entirely.

Bruce cupped her ankle with one hand and held her bare foot in the other. After murmuring, "Tell me where it hurts," he moved her foot in a gentle rotation.

She nodded. Although she winced at a certain angle, nothing felt broken.

"I think it's just twisted," Bruce said. "Still, you shouldn't walk on it for a day or two."

Her gaze cast over his shoulder, searching. "Did you leave Wanda with—that guy?"

"She's okay," he assured her. "She tied him up and she has the gun."

Violet's shoulders sagged with relief. "He was so … he was obsessed with you. He wouldn't stop talking about you. How you owed him, how you didn't deserve me. Even though he wanted to hurt me, too."

"I don't deserve you," he said honestly. "He got that part right, at least."

Violet cracked the tiniest smile. Even though it faded quickly, Bruce's heart lifted.

"I know everything seems crazy right now."

"You turned into a bear," she murmured. "And then back into a person.
And
now you're naked. 'Crazy' sounds about right."

"I have some extra clothes in the car." He hesitated. "Violet, the police are going to be here soon. They're going to want to take our statements."

Violet took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "Without bears, I assume." Her voice was steadier now, though he still detected a wobble in it.

Bruce reached out to stroke her shoulder. He was afraid she would jerk away again, but she didn't; instead she leaned toward him, into his touch, as if running on instinct.

"I think I can walk." Steadying herself on Bruce, Violet rose to her feet—before stumbling forward into his chest.

She didn't let go immediately. His arms enveloped her. "Maybe I was overestimating my ability," she muttered.

Without thinking, he swooped down and slipped one arm behind her knees, easily picking her up and cradling her in his arms against his chest. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, burying her face in his neck.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured into her ear, and felt her nod.

Chapter Eleven

Violet

After the night she'd had, it took a lot of tossing and turning before Violet fell asleep. While she lay awake, her brain tried to make sense of the evening's events by running them through her mind over and over on a loop.

Waking up to a stranger—a dangerous stranger. He'd tied her up and rambled to her. The stalker who had been following Bruce, she'd surmised through the fog in her mind.

The gun pointed at her head.
Walk
, he'd said. Moonlight flickering off the barrel.

Bruce. She'd seen—she'd
thought
she'd seen—the protectiveness and love in his eyes as he'd talked. Tried to calm down her captor.

The bear. Bruce turning
into
the bear. The great, shaggy animal with its huge bulk rushing toward her.

But it hadn't hurt her—only her kidnapper. The bear hadn't even touched her. It had turned its head toward her and she'd seen intelligence in its eyes. Then Bruce had come back.

What did it all mean?

The rest of the night was a blur—Wanda telling her about shifters, the arrival of the police, Bruce placing a blanket tenderly around her shoulders. She hadn't known what to say to him; she'd been in shock. He had taken her home—to his home, she reminded herself, even though it felt like her home now too. Without saying anything, she'd collapsed in her guest bedroom, her mind spinning.

Despite her inner turmoil, she eventually dozed off. At first her dreams were shadowed by an unformed, frantic anxiety, but gradually she relaxed.

She was by the back windows. Something hot was in her hands—a mug of cocoa. As she looked outside, a huge shape clambered past the window.

It was a bear. Its head lifted, and its gaze met hers. Dimly, in the back of her mind, Violet registered the memory.

She should feel scared. But the bear recognized her; its head stilled, and its eyes locked on hers.

Something passed between them: a primal knowledge. She recognized the bear; she knew in an instant who it was.

She stepped outside. It was an enormous creature; she only came up to its shoulder. It was so powerful, and next to it she was tiny.

But she wasn't afraid. He would never do anything to hurt her. She knew that now.

She reached out a hand, and the bear bowed to nuzzle it gently.

When she woke, cold morning light was filtering in through the window. Automatically she reached for Bruce, only to find the rest of the bed empty.

She was alone.

Memories of the night before returned to her in a rush, and she closed her eyes against the onslaught momentarily.

It had been a harrowing night. But she was safe now.

She remembered her dream. She'd never been afraid of Bruce, she knew now. She'd been afraid of Jim, but she knew Bruce would never hurt her—that he was only trying to protect her. Her fear had been
for
Bruce; she'd felt the danger he was in somehow, in her mind.

Pushing the door open, she peeked outside. She didn't see or hear Bruce; either he was still asleep or outside. She had a feeling she knew which.

Quietly she padded out. On her quest for Bruce, she passed the spacious den and heard the crackling of a fire, but he wasn’t there. He was part-bear; maybe he wanted to be outside. Sure enough, he was there—in his bear form. Instinctively she knew she would be able to tell him apart from any other bear; he was hers.

When he heard the porch creak under her feet, his great form stilled.

Like she had the first time they'd "met", she waved to him and smiled. She felt light.

He took that as his cue. In a second the bear shrank and twisted to become a man.

"Morning," he said neutrally to her as he approached. He had an uncertain expression on his face. "Are you … okay?"

"I'm good." Violet leaned against the pillar. "You're naked, though."

Bruce looked down at himself and colored slightly. It was cute. "I'll go put something on," he muttered, moving to brush past her.

"Oh, I don't know," she said breezily. "I kind of like the view."

Bruce relaxed with a laugh. "It's a little cold out here."

"Why don't you come in and warm up, then?" she suggested cheekily.

Bruce came up the porch stairs, drawing closer to her and stopping just a few inches away. Two stairs below, he was
still
taller than her. She didn't mind; it reminded her of how safe and protected she was with him.

"About last night …" she began, then wasn't sure how to continue.

His large, warm hands enfolded hers. "I'm so sorry, Violet. I never thought something like that would happen."

She gave him a wry smile. "Unless you followed me into every single bathroom, it was going to happen eventually. That was a grudge the size of Texas. Trust me, he made me listen to it."

"I didn't mean to hurt you with my … secret. I thought I was protecting you."

She slipped one hand out of his grasp and around the back of his neck. Her nails gently scratched his skin; she watched as his eyes half-closed involuntarily at the caress. "I know."

"I'd never hurt you," he vowed. "Violet—I love you."

"I know that, too," she murmured, remembering how he’d fought for her. “You saved me.” She leaned in to press her lips to his.

The kiss ignited something in him. He returned the kiss with passion, his hot mouth demanding against hers. He slid a hand around her possessively, rubbing up and down her back. His other fingers laced through hers.

Bruce nibbled at her bottom lip and sucked it gently between his, playing with her. She responded in kind, her tongue stroking his while her grip tightened around him and she tangled her hand further in his hair. She never wanted to let him go.

He pressed himself close to her, drawing her against his body. Which was waking up; she felt something press low against her belly. It was his rapidly hardening erection.

Cool air nipped at their entwined bodies, causing her to shiver. Regretfully she pulled back. “Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Are you sure?” he teased.

Violet giggled. “
You
might have a fur coat to protect you, but I don’t.”

“I bet I could think of something,” he suggested, but she was already turning around and leading him up the porch stairs. A burst of warm air greeted them when she opened the door, and she gave an appreciative wiggle, her toes curling.

Bruce’s hands were firm on her hips, and his mouth dipped to kiss her on the shoulder. She felt him against her backside, as hard as steel, and her body hummed with anticipation.

Violet didn’t make it past the den before turning around and reaching for him. He was so
tall
and solid. She ran her hands appreciatively over the hard planes of his chest, her fingers drifting through the little indents between muscles. When he growled, she felt the vibrations under her fingertips.

The fire was crackling, welcoming. In the room there were chairs, even a sofa, but Violet led him to the soft hearth rug instead. She lay back, watching Bruce’s eyes widen above her in appreciation.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, bracing himself on one hand above her.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she joked, running a hand over his firm biceps.

Bruce’s other hand slid down her barely-clothed body with a tantalizingly light touch. By the time his fingers reached the hem of the shirt she’d thrown on before climbing into bed the night before, her legs were trembling.

He didn’t pull up the fabric immediately, instead tugging on the hem lightly. It was some kind of soft, forest-green Henley she’d found in the closet, barely looking at it before climbing into bed. It was a large shirt, comfortably worn down, the hem hanging to her thighs and the sleeves past her elbows.

“You found one of my shirts,” he said.

Violet propped herself up on her elbows and quirked an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re concerned about right now? Shirt theft?”

His smile spread slowly, and his knuckles teased her inner thighs. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

"I'm not so sure," she teased back. She was pretty sure Bruce would look great in anything. "Want to try it on?"

"You know," he added, tugging on the hem again, this time pulling it up, "I think you'd look even better without it."

Violet giggled and lifted her hips so that Bruce could push the shirt up, exposing her belly. The fabric came up to just below her breasts, but he didn't let that get in his way: he took a nipple between his lips and sucked, wetting the fabric around it. She wasn't wearing a bra; the slight scratch of the fabric combined with the wet heat of his mouth felt heavenly.

Gently he took her tight bud between his teeth and nipped. An electric shock of pleasure zipped down Violet's spine, and she let out a small cry, unable to help herself.

He had dampened the shirt around her nipple so that she could feel every exquisite movement he made. She writhed under his ministrations, feeling her pussy get slicker and hotter than she had ever felt.

Bruce cupped her other breast and kneaded, relieving a pressure she hadn't even known she'd been feeling. His palm brushed over the sensitive peak, making her arch and dig her toes into the carpet. How could he drive her so crazy by just playing with her breasts? It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Only Bruce made her feel like this.

He rose to kiss her, pressing their bodies together as his tongue plundered her mouth, powerful and desirous of
her
. His hand cupped the back of her head and tilted it back. She arched up to meet him. Skin to skin, belly to belly, it still wasn't close enough.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, felt his body settle between them. His cock was like a rod of steel, and when he moved it rubbed against the crotch of her panties with delicious friction.

Violet was almost dripping with desire, so wet she could hardly believe it. As he rocked against her, bringing his massive cock against her sensitive nub, they moaned into each other's mouths simultaneously. Her hands moved without thinking, stroking over his powerful shoulders, feeling the muscles in his arms flex as he moved, gliding down his back and cupping his ass, digging her fingers into him, trying to pull him even closer to her.

He broke the kiss, turning to nip dirtily at her throat while she gasped. When he pulled back to sit on his knees, she couldn't help but make a disappointed sound and reach for him.

"Not yet," he said huskily, and his fingers hooked into the waist of her panties.

He skimmed them down her thighs and tugged them off. His hands folded around her knees and he eased them apart. Air passed between them, sending a cool shiver down Violet's slick folds.

Bruce kissed the inside of her knee. When he spoke, his voice was admiring. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known," he said. "God, you're so perfect. So wet for me."

Violet lifted her hips and said breathlessly, "I don't know, I could be a little more wet …"

His deep laugh reverberated through her skin as his lips traveled down her inner thigh. His warm lips and tongue against the sensitive skin there made her shiver. Finally, finally, he reached her pussy.

His fingers parted her, and the tip of his tongue delved in to explore her.

Violet whimpered with each movement: the broad flat of his tongue against her entrance, just dipping inside, tracing her folds, and slipping in a maddening circle around her swollen, aching clit, not quite there, not where she needed him the most.

"Bruce," she gasped as he
just
slipped around her nub again in another near-miss. "Bruce,
please
—I need—"

"What do you need?" His voice was rough with lust. "Tell me."

She was close to whining, the pressure building up inside of her with no release valve. "
You
, I need—your mouth—"

With a rumble of satisfaction, he slipped his mouth over her clit and sucked. Violet arched clear off the rug. He was giving her exactly what she needed most, in a steady, relentless rhythm that pulled her ever closer to the edge with every second. The tip of one finger circled her tight entrance without delving inside—teasing.

She rocked her hips against him and sank a hand into his thick hair. Every movement drew a gasp or a moan from her; she was dizzy with arousal, uninhibited. Her hand tightened in his hair.

Pleasure spiraled within her, tightening, and her legs began to tremble. "Bruce—"

He didn't stop, or let up at all. His tongue slipped over her nub again and again until he brought her to climax—and she cried out. The force of it washed over her in wave after wave of white-hot pleasure filling every cell of her body.

Bruce slowed his ministrations, bringing her floating back down to earth. "Beautiful," he growled, and she heard a hint of his bear behind it.

He bent over her, nuzzling her neck and stroking her skin as the aftershocks began to fade.