The Hawk and Her LumBEARjack: BBW Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (3 page)

Hunter wondered if Felicity felt the same instant, electric connection that he'd felt. It was hard to tell. It had been a long time since he'd talked to a woman at all ... and a
very
long time since he'd been with a woman.

His bear was leaving no doubt what
it
thought of Felicity's presence in his cabin. The cabin was so small that he couldn't get far enough away to avoid being thoroughly aware of her ... and the fact that she was naked under that blanket.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked her, pushing his bear forcefully down and yanking his eyes away from her cleavage. "You hit pretty hard. I didn't think it was a good idea to risk the roads in this weather to take you to the hospital."

Felicity tilted her head, listening to the wind outside the cabin and the heavy drumming of rain on the roof. "No," she said. "That's probably a good idea. I'm okay, I think. Or I will be."

"Rough weather for flying in," Hunter said.

Felicity smiled. Her smile was as amazing as the rest of her. "I work in Minneapolis, but I like to come up here and go flying on weekends. I don't get out as much in the winter, and this was my first long flight of the spring. I guess I got a little carried away."

"Good thing you flew this way. It's wild country around here. You could've flown for hours without finding anyone."

Her smile grew brilliant. "I know. I'm very lucky you found me."

Hunter wasn't sure what to say to that. Flustered, he got up and gathered the soup bowls, and refilled her coffee cup.

"So what do you do out here, Hunter?" she asked.

"I'm a lumberjack. I work on a crew down the valley a little ways."

"A lumberjack," she said, approving. "No wonder you have those ... arms." Her green eyes darkened, the pupils widening.

Hunter glanced down at his arms. They were just arms, weren't they? Okay, they were pretty big. But that's what happened when you threw logs around for a living.

"I'm a fashion designer," Felicity said, wrenching her gaze away from his shoulders with apparent reluctance. "I have my own business, Groves Design. It's probably not the kind of runway-model thing you're thinking, though. I like to design clothing that's pretty but practical, the kind of thing a woman can feel comfortable in. Or a man!" she added. "We do men's fashions as well. And we have some very popular plus-sized lines. Actually, that's what got me started in the first place. Er, do you mind me going on about this?"

Hunter shook his head. "Guess the fashion industry was something I never thought too much about."

"Well, most people think of fashion and they think of Project Runway and things like that. But it's not just making dresses out of gold lamé and feathers. What made me interested in doing it myself was all the trouble I used to have finding pretty clothes that fit me in our little town." She glanced down at herself. "I'm not exactly a size zero, you know."

"You look great to me," Hunter said, and then could have kicked himself, but she looked delighted and even blushed a little. For a moment she seemed to lose her train of thought, and then recovered.

"Mostly I wanted bigger girls to have stylish things too. Not high-end stylish, just a nice summer dress or a classy jacket to pull on when the fall weather gets chilly. Though, like I said, we've branched out a lot, into menswear and other things." She laughed. "Listen to me going on. Hunter, why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"Not much to tell," he admitted. "I've lived around here most of my life. Left for a little while, tried living in the city ..." A sharp flash of Christine crossed his mind, the lingering taste of a hurt that had never gone away. "It wasn't for me," he finished in a rush.

A shadow seemed to cross Felicity's face—why, he wasn't sure. But then she smiled that lovely smile again. "Well, it was lucky for me you were living out here. I can't think what would have happened to me if you weren't."

"I'm the lucky one here," he said without thinking, and then winced at himself.
Damn it, Hunter, you just met the lady! She's going to be thinking you've been living alone too long ... which you probably have.

Felicity met his eyes with a little smile, then dropped hers somewhat shyly. She started to stretch, and winced. "I may have spoken too soon when I said I was okay. I think maybe I bruised my shoulder when I hit the roof ... could you look at it for me?"

Hunter came over and sat on the edge of the bed. This close, it was impossible not to be aware of her curvy, naked body under the blanket. She looked just the right size to make a perfect armful.

Felicity slipped the blanket off her shoulder, baring her arm and part of her back. "How does it look?" she asked, bowing her head to get her hair out of the way.

The words
perfect
and
wonderful
came to mind. The exposed expanse of creamy skin was an open invitation to touch. He brushed his fingertips lightly across her shoulder, and she shivered. Her skin was just as soft as it looked. "I don't see any bruises," he admitted, breathless with wanting her.

Felicity looked up through a curtain of dark hair. "I think you should look for other bruises," she said, and let the blanket fall completely from her shoulders. "I might have hurt myself in places I didn't even notice."

Hunter's breath caught. He cupped a hand over her smooth shoulder, then tipped up her chin with his fingertips. Her lips parted, an open invitation. He bent down and covered her mouth with his own.

Kissing her was a shock and a revelation. It was like plunging into an icy mountain stream in June: a jolt to the senses, a rush of sensation so overwhelming that he couldn't even find words to describe it. She opened her mouth to him, inviting him in. So warm, so wet, so
wanting
... When they both finally came up for air, Hunter could tell he wasn't the only one who was gasping and on fire with need.

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his lap. She was just as warm and delightful an armful as he'd thought she'd be. The blankets and the deerskin robe fell away onto the bed like a butterfly's shed cocoon. She was still cool to the touch, but no longer so terribly cold.

Felicity threw her head back and kissed him again with passionate abandon. Hunter cupped his hands under her generous buttocks and stood up, lifting her with him. Felicity gasped into his mouth.

"Okay?" he asked, breaking away from the kiss. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

She shook her head and wrapped her legs around his waist; her arms were wound around his shoulders. He was achingly hard. "No, it's just ... you're so
strong
."

Hunter swiveled around, holding her tight; her hair swung out behind her. Felicity gasped again, gripping him tighter.

"I'll show you how strong I can be," he growled into her neck. "Where do you want it? The bed? By the fire?"

"Oh!" she gasped. "How about ... the fire?"

Hunter freed a hand from her generous ass—she clutched him even more tightly, but he could easily support her soft, pliant weight with just one arm—and swiped the deerskin robe off the bed. He crossed the room in a few careful strides and laid it in front of the fire. There were already a couple of other furs there; it was one of his favorite places for lounging around. Then he laid Felicity on the furs. She went willingly, lying back in the firelight. For a moment all he could do was stare at the amazing picture she made: naked and beautiful, bathed in firelight, her smooth limbs framed in tawny deerskin.

Then Felicity said, "Are you just going to stand there looking at me?" and Hunter hastily began wrestling with the button of his jeans.

It was like something from a movie, Felicity thought—or from a dream: Hunter laying her out on a bed of furs in front of the fire. She was still chilly, but the fire's heat bathed her, warming her from head to foot. The thick furs underneath her caressed her skin with a thousand little prickles of sensation, all across her back and shoulders and hips.

Hunter had been gorgeous with his clothes on, but without them he was mesmerizing, muscular and golden in the firelight, dusted lightly with soft fuzzy hair in all the right places.

And the best part was knowing that the way he was looking at her—the open lust and adoration in his eyes, and the burgeoning erection springing from a nest of light brown curls—was all for
her
.

He had been gentle and cautious earlier, but now he took charge, and Felicity fell into his touch. He cupped and caressed her full breasts, ran his hands down the lush spread of her hips. She was ready, wet and waiting, rising to meet his body with hers. Nothing had every felt this good. Every nerve ending was on fire, every sensation heightened until merely the brush of his breath against her neck made her quiver.

Hunter gently nipped at her neck, biting a sharp, sparking trail of desire from her throat to her breasts, and took her nipple into his mouth. His tongue played with it while his other hand rubbed her other nipple to a state of erect hardness. He was fully erect himself, pressing against her thigh.

Felicity wanted it to last forever and yet she wanted it now,
needed
it now. She spread her legs apart, wordlessly conveying her need.

Hunter raised up on his knees, looking down at her, his eyes dark with arousal. Felicity could feel the frenzy of her hawk, its wings beating frantically behind her breastbone as it cried out with the urge to be taken, to be possessed.

She reached up to caress his broad chest, feeling the firmness of toned muscle, then wrapped her arms around his sides and drew him down to her.

Her anticipation grew to a crescendo as Hunter finally pushed his hard length into her waiting heat. Felicity threw her head back. Sensation consumed her. Hunter filled her, buried the length of his shaft in her. Every stroke was a burst of heat spreading through her limbs, tingling from head to foot. Their bodies moved together; she thrust back, meeting him stroke for stroke. Hunter bowed his head to nip at her neck, and Felicity cried out softly, a cry drawn from her hawk as much as from her.

Rippling waves of pleasure mounted in her, built to fevered heights, and then orgasm shuddered through her. Hunter's body arched over her and he gave a great cry, almost a roar, voicing his own ecstasy as her reaction to her pleasure sent him over the edge too. They rode it out together, until finally they came down in a slow ebbing descent, relaxing onto the fire-warmed furs, side by side.

"I hope you know," Felicity murmured at last, when she could pull a coherent thought together, "that I may never move again."

"Good?" Hunter asked softly, giving her shoulder a light nibble.

"Nnnghhh."

He got up to retrieve a blanket from the bed. Felicity stayed where she was, though she bestirred herself enough to roll over and expose her backside to the fire's heat. She would have to recommend this particular hypothermia cure—she felt warm through and through.
Ten out of ten,
she thought sleepily.
Definitely a success.

Hunter draped a blanket over her and then snuggled under it himself, curling up against her on the furs.

"Well?" Felicity asked sleepily. "Did you see any?"

"Huh?" Hunter murmured, rousing slightly.

"Bruises," she said, grinning. "Oh, weren't you looking?"

Hunter snorted and, under the blanket, gave her a light pat on her naked ass. Felicity giggled and burrowed more closely against him as sleep came to claim her.

***

It was an incredible weekend. The only time the entire weekend that either one of them put on clothes was when Hunter had to go outside and get more wood for the fire.

Of course, Felicity had no clothes to put on, except an old shirt of his, worn soft with washings, that she wore if she felt chilly.

But, for the most part, "chilly" wasn't a problem. They lounged around in his big bed, and he told her about his life in the woods. He loved studying animal behavior, and knew the names of all the different kinds of birds that came to the bird feeders around his yard.

Felicity, in turn, told him about her life in the city, making him laugh with her stories of demanding clients and fabric shipments gone wrong.

And they made love all over the cabin, everywhere, in every position. He took her on the table; he licked her to heights of rapture while she sprawled in the chair; they even tried making love on the porch in the sunshine (but ended up finishing inside—it was simply too chilly yet). She'd never realized it was possible to have this much sex in one weekend. No, check that: this much
glorious, amazing
sex.

And then she woke early, snuggled against Hunter, as the cabin filled with the gray light of dawn, and thought,
Oh my God, it's Monday morning.

She pulled herself carefully out of bed. Hunter didn't wake. Felicity looked down at him, sleeping soundly, curled around the warm place where she'd been. She couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, could she? That felt awful.

But she didn't want a scene. She didn't want him to beg her to stay, and God knew she didn't want to descend to begging him to come back to the city with her. She'd known from the beginning that this wasn't permanent. He was where he needed to be, and now she needed to go back to where
she
needed to be.

Moving quietly so as not to wake him, she looked around until she found a pad of paper and a pencil. Carefully she scribbled a short note:

Dear Hunter,

Thank you again for saving my life. This has been the most wonderful weekend I've ever had. I'm so sorry it's over. But my business needs me, and I know you have to stay here in the woods, where you're happy. And I need to get back to the city, where I'm happy.

If you would like to call or email me, I'd love that. I know you don't have a phone here, but my number is 555-6090, and my email is
[email protected]
. I would really like to hear from you, and if you're ever in the Minneapolis area, please call me and I can show you some of the pleasures of the city.

She started to write
Love, Felicity,
then balked at it, and just signed her name with a little flourish.

Hunter was still asleep, breathing slowly and deeply. Felicity placed the note on the table, weighed down with a book, and opened the cabin door very quietly before she could change her mind.

The morning was fresh and chilly, the sun just cresting the trees. All the ice had melted away, and it truly felt like spring now, the storm no more than a distant memory.

With the sun to navigate by, she was pretty sure she knew which way to fly to get back to her car. She was going to be late regardless, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd been late getting back from a "hiking" trip; Melinda was used to it.

Felicity stretched her arms to the sky and shifted.

It felt wonderful to have the wind under her wings again. She caught an updraft and soared upward in a great, slow spiral. Below her, the cabin and its woodshed dwindled to the size of toys. There was a part of her that wished Hunter would come out onto the porch to wave goodbye, and she did a few extra circles above the cabin just in case he might. Then she told herself she was being silly. It was best to make a clean break. Maybe, hopefully, she would hear from him again; if not, this would be a wonderful memory, a weekend of passion in the wilderness.

She'd known all along that it was probably never going to be more than that.

And yet, as she flew away, she felt as if she was struggling against a bond that wanted to draw her back. It stretched, longer and longer, thinner and thinner, but never seemed to break.