Wildest Bear_A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance Page 4

  Kimi says, “I was the one who was wrong.”

  I look at her. “Wait.” If she was wrong, she must be talking about me marrying Marcel. So if I was right to trust in our love, the way Jean Luc did, then does that mean I’m too worried about the alpha’s reaction to my children shifting? I smile. Jean Luc is the kind of leader who will find a way to accommodate for our children’s difference and do what’s necessary to keep us all safe. I say, “My kids are going to be fine.”

  Kimi nods. “You are the problem.”

  7

  I glance up from my book as Marcel comes down the stairs from putting the kids to bed. Not that I was reading it, because I can’t get Kimi’s words out of my head. You are the problem. My initial reaction was to think that I’m not supposed to be with Marcel, but then I considered what else Kimi said. She told me I was right to trust in the love my husband and I have. She also said that our children were the solution, and that’s the part that puzzles me.

  As Marcel and I drove back home from Kimi’s, we decided we wouldn’t tell the children not to shift because we both believe it’s what they’re supposed to do. But we also didn’t come up with a solid plan of how to keep it hidden from humans who don’t know werebear exist. Or even worse, hunters who are hell-bent on wiping werebear off the face of earth. While we haven’t had to deal with the danger of the Eradicators for a few years due to the fact werebear did a pretty good job of wiping them out, the threat is still out there, percolating.

  “The twins are sound asleep,” Marcel says. “I think I’m going to enjoy doing this every night.”

  “I’m glad you’re going to get to now. Sometimes I feel bad that you don’t get as much time with them as I do.” I move to snuggle into my husband when he sits on the couch next to me. “How was your first unofficial day as the head of warrior training?”

  “Pretty good. I’m thinking about rearranging the gym and giving it a bit of a face-lift.”

  I recall when Izzy took it upon herself to train me to fight. To warm up for my workout, she put me on a treadmill that had an amazing view of the shirtless male werebear doing various forms of physical exercise. I reach over and slide my hand up Marcel’s large bicep. “Don’t you dare move the treadmills.”

  Marcel chuckles. “Never. I hear the location is motivational.” He knows what I’m talking about because not only was he aware of me watching him before we were together, but he showed off for me.

  I move to straddle his lap, and he helps me remove his shirt as I ask, “Sound asleep, you said?”

  “I did.” Marcel closes his eyes and lets out a moan when I press my hands against his chest and move them over his well-formed pectorals. “I love it when you touch me, Tally.”

  I love touching him. The way I feel about Marcel has to be almost as powerful as the werebear true-mate bond, because five years later, I’m still head over heels in love with him. Trust that love. I lean down for a kiss that takes my mind off everything except emotions for my husband.

  Marcel grabs my butt and pulls me in tighter against his groin. He slides his hands under my shirt and breaks away to whisper, “Let’s go to bed.”

  I answer by getting up and reaching for his hand. I watch him stand and notice the way his jeans hang low and there is a trail of hair below his belly button that I long to trace. Especially when I see the bulge in his jeans just below it.

  Once he’s up, he dips down to throw me over his shoulder, and I hold back a yelp.

  “You are such an animal.”

  Marcel laughs softly at my joke as he takes me upstairs. He loves how small I am compared to him. And while I’m quite capable of fighting with my magic, he’s a powerful warrior who can protect me, anyway. He also knows how much that turns me on, so he pulls an alpha move or two as foreplay on a regular basis. No complaints here.

  When we get to our bedroom, he sets me down on my feet and clicks on the small lamp on the dresser that offers soft light. I smile up him as I begin to undress. I think about how I used to wear sexy underwear for him, and that now I’m usually in plain white or nude-colored bras and panties. I ask, “Do you miss what we were like before we had kids?”

  Marcel shakes his head as his jeans fall to the floor with a soft whoosh. “Our life keeps getting better and better, Tally.”

  “It does, but I was asking about our sex life. Remember how we used to be able to do it whenever we wanted to? And that it was all we ever thought about?”

  “Not true. What we have is so much more than sex, Tally. We fell in love before we touched each other, and for a while, we weren’t allowed to.”

  I think back to the short time he was a portal that could suck me into a dangerous world. We couldn’t be within feet of each other, and the anticipation of when we could again made me crazy. So crazy that when we did—

  “I remember,” I say as I walk over to reach up and hold his shoulders.

  My husband reaches around and grabs my butt. He squeezes it and tugs me against his body. His hard erection presses against my soft stomach as he kisses me, and he lifts me up by my thighs to carry me to the bed. Once we get there, he lays me down gently, but his physical power radiates from him as his muscles flex when he climbs over me. “Tally,” he sighs and lowers himself to my chest. My warrior swirls his tongue around my nipple, making it harden as a tingle of pleasure races through me. Cupping my breast with his hand, he teases me with his mouth until I’m moaning softly.

  Moving his way down my body, Marcel leaves a trail of kisses, and he doesn’t stop until he’s between my legs. He takes a moment to breathe in deeply, and when my scent assaults his senses, he lets out a low growl of desire. “My god, woman. When will I ever get enough of you?”

  I tremble with the knowledge I bring my fierce man to his knees.

  He drags his tongue along my sensitive folds, and I whimper before I say, “I hope it’s never.”

  Marcel sucks on my clit until I’m squirming beneath him, and to bring me higher, he inserts two fingers into my slick channel. I let out a small cry and buck my hips upward for him to go deeper.

  He drives into me faster as my orgasm builds, and I throw my head back as I let it fill me with white-hot ecstasy that spills over and makes every muscle in my body shake with the pleasure. I get a moment to recover, but I’m still quaking when Marcel flips me over and lifts my hips so that I’ll get on my knees and present my very round bottom. Now he’ll take what he needs, and I wiggle, knowing he finds my curves sexy, and his growl reverberates through me like an aftershock. I gasp when Marcel when pushes his way into me. I thrust back against him as we begin to rock. Giving him what he wants. I want. Need.

  Marcel’s movements get faster, and I can tell he’s close. So am I, and when he moves his hand to massage my pulsing nub, I clutch at the sheets as I fly high. This time, my orgasm nearly explodes from me, and I grab a pillow to scream into as my world shatters in pure bliss. Marcel places his mouth on the soft part of my shoulder where it meets my neck, and his teeth scrape lightly. I flinch a little, even though I know his restraint isn’t anything that would ever crack with me. He follows with his release, and he lets out a strangled cry before collapsing on top of me. And we both sigh with the blanket of sweet exhaustion. Marcel rolls off with a groan before he pulls my sweat-slicked body into his so he can wrap himself around me.

  I roll my neck as the memory of his teeth on me comes back. I think about how he used to want to bite me and I’d shove a pillow in his mouth so he wouldn’t latch on to me. I know that desire is always going to be there for him, and it makes me sad that I’m not able to answer it. Werebear bite each other to seal their true-mate bond. Considering they heal quickly, it’s not a big deal, but for me, it would be. I’d have a wound I’d have to nurture for weeks, and for nothing since we don’t have a true-mate bond to be sealed.

  I say, “I’m sorry. I should have let you have the pillow.”

  “Tally.” Marcel frowns. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” He touches the
soft spot he’d like to bite. “I know it scares you when I put my mouth on you like that. I shouldn’t.”

  “It’s okay that you do,” I say. “I’m not afraid of you, Marcel.” I chuckle and change the subject. “Sure you don’t miss our childless days?”

  Marcel gazes into my eyes and smiles. “The twins will grow up and leave us one day. Then we can resume screaming loudly enough to break the windows. But for now, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  I wiggle in a little closer. My life really couldn’t be any more perfect. I have the only man I’ve ever loved, two amazing children, and friends who fill my days with more love and laughter. Kimi was right. I need to trust in the love of my husband and enjoy it. I say, “Me either.” I gaze over my shoulder and into the eyes of the man I’ll do anything to ensure I get to keep for life. “I love you, Marcel.”

  My husband kisses me gently. “I love you too, Tally.” He hugs me a little tighter, and the warmth of his skin on mine is more than body heat. It’s the glow of our love.

  “Mommy?” Ava lifts my eyelid, and I groan. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”

  I’m not a morning person, but when a sweet little girl is sitting on your stomach, telling you to get up for a breakfast your husband made, it’s hard not to smile.

  I sniff and ask, “Is there coffee?”

  “Of course, silly.”

  “Of course.” I climb out of bed and go to use the bathroom.

  Ava follows me in. “Daddy said he’s taking us in the woods today.”

  “That’ll be fun.” Saturdays are when Marcel likes to take the kids on adventures, and it allows me to work a full day. “Are you going on a picnic?”

  She nods, and water rushes as I wash my hands. “We’re going fishing too.”

  I chuckle as I imagine Marcel using a fishing pole instead of catching fish with the swipe of his bear paw. Eventually, he’ll show his bear side to the kids, but most parents wait until their children are about five so they’re able to understand what it means.

  We make our way down to the kitchen, where Marcel greets me with a cup of coffee.

  I inhale the aroma and let out a sigh. “You love me.”

  He wraps an arm around my waist and nuzzles my neck. “That, I do,” he whispers. “Even with your clothes on.”

  I slap at his arm and pull away as my cheeks heat up. Marcel catches me around the waist and pulls me back to plant a kiss on my lips, dramatically for the kids, and they giggle. And I barely manage to keep my coffee from spilling.

  When he’s done, I roll my eyes at him and ask, “Where’s the bacon Ava promised me?”

  “Coming right up,” he says.

  I walk over to the table to sit. I look over at my children sitting at their little table, and my heart fills with love. They are the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever known, and I can’t believe how lucky I am. Kimi telling me she was wrong about Marcel and me has made me happier than I would have thought. Silverware clatters on a plate, and I watch Marcel bring me my breakfast. “Thank you,” I say when he thumps the dish before me. He sits across from me. I reach out for his hand. “For more than breakfast. For my wonderful life.”

  He squeezes my fingers. “Our wonderful life, because I’m thankful every day for you too.”

  A crash makes Marcel and me jump. Adam knocked his plate off the table, and he gazes at us with wide eyes. “Uh-oh.”

  Since we give the kids plastic dishes, it’s not a big deal, and I get up to clean the mess. “It’s okay, honey,” I say. “I’m sure there’s more.”

  Marcel says, “I’ll get it,” and when he gets to the sink, he tosses me a wet rag. As I wipe up egg from the floor I think about the fact Adam didn’t shift. Has he already figured out how to control it? Although since we didn’t make a big deal out of it, and the fact this sort of thing happens regularly, he’s probably not experiencing an intense emotion.

  But I smile to myself anyway, because no matter what happens with the premature shifting of my children, the one thing I’m sure of is Marcel and I will get through it together.

  8

  After breakfast, I help the kids pack lunch, and Marcel gets them out the door, leaving me fifteen minutes to spare before my first appointment. My teakettle clatters on the stovetop, where I set it in preparation for tea, and I think about my day. While my official title is medicine woman, my role most of the time is as a therapist. Werebear have remarkable natural healing abilities and don’t get infections, although there are situations that require surgery and other procedures. Historically, the clan medicine woman or man did it all, but now, we have doctors to deal with major issues using human science.

  Therapy isn’t something most werebear want to admit to, so they come to me under the umbrella of holistic medicine when they have a life issue to deal with. I make special tea blends for pregnant females so they can share their hopes and fears about motherhood. I offer potions to males to help them hone their inner strength in order for them to talk through a traumatic event like killing in a battle. I deal with training magical abilities that have shown up in werebear, which makes me think witches, warlocks, and werebear have definitely produced offspring over the years. And occasionally, when the evil side of witchcraft enters our world, I deal with that too.

  My first client today is an older woman named Sylvia who lost her husband recently, and she’s having trouble sleeping. A drawer scrapes open when I tug on it to pull out my tarot cards. I’m going to give her a reading that should offer hope for her future as well as help her accept her loss. The tea I’ll make for Sylvia to drink this morning will be to help open up her mind. But I’ll send her home with a different blend to help her relax in the evenings so she can sleep and process her emotions through dreams.

  When I hear the soft rap of Sylvia’s knuckles on my door, I go let her in.

  “Tally,” she says as her eyes fill with tears.

  I pull the woman into an embrace. “Sylvia, it’s nice to see you.” I hold her until she pulls away. One of my gifts is the ability to read minds, and although I keep a shield up to preserve the privacy of others, I can’t always keep their emotions from getting in. Sylvia’s pain slices straight to my heart, and I have to push it away before I react.

  “I’m sorry,” she says as she sniffs. “I’ve really got to stop crying at every little thing, good or bad.”

  I grab the box of tissues on my sideboard and hand it to her. “I have hot water in the kettle. Would you like some tea?”

  “Yes, please,” says Sylvia as she sits at my table.

  As I work on our drinks, I say, “I hope you have time for a visit. We haven’t caught up in ages.”

  “I do. I’d love to hear about the twins. What are they? Three now?”

  “Almost. What a great memory you have. Their birthday is next month.”

  “Enjoy every moment of them, Tally. You’ll be amazed how quickly time goes by.”

  “I am,” I say as I walk over to sit with our hot beverages. “I keep teasing them that when they turn three, I’m going to squish them back down to two.”

  Sylvia cracks a smile as she tears up again. I reach over and grab her hand. “I know it’s hard for you right now, and lack of sleep isn’t helping. I’m going to make you a tea blend that should help with that.”

  “Thank you.” She pulls away to take a sip of her tea.

  “Would you humor me and let me do a tarot reading?” I hand her the deck of cards.

  She takes them and immediately begins to shuffle. “I don’t know. I’m afraid of what they might say.”

  “I’m not.” I think about how she has three children who will graduate from college this year, and I have a feeling true mates are in their immediate future. Which means grandchildren for Sylvia, and a new reason for her to open her heart to love. “Losing your true mate must feel like the world has ended, but I know you’ve got a lot of years left to live for a reason.”

  “I wish I knew what it was,” she says as she continues to mo
ve the cards through her hands.

  I reach for the deck. “Then let’s find out.”

  After her tarot reading, Sylvia leaves with the hope of family returning home and grandchildren on the horizon. I’ll follow up with her in a few weeks, and I think we’ll find she’s in a better place when I do. When I was making her sleep aid, I noticed that I’m low on valerian root. Since my next client isn’t due for another half hour, I decide to take a quick trip to my garden to dig some up.

  Once I’m outside, I take a moment to lift my face up to the sun and bask in its warmth before my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a text from my next client. He’s not going to make it. I walk over to the valerian and squat down. When I scoop up dirt, the rich aroma rises up to fill my nose, and I avoid a wiggling worm as I cut into the root to remove some of it.

  I glance around at my gardens and think that I should probably spend time pulling weeds, but then I think about how much fun Marcel is having with our kids, and that plan gets tossed away for a new one. I’m going to go see if I can find them and spend a little time enjoying my family’s company.

  After I put my gardening things away, I set out toward the path in the woods that leads to the river. I have a good idea where Marcel would take the kids fishing. I look around as I walk and take in the sounds of the forest. A woodpecker is tapping away at a tree, and leaves rustle as two squirrels that appear to be playing tag scamper by. I inhale the musky odor of rotting leaves mixed with the sweet smell of fresh air. My heart aches a little for Sylvia as I think about what it would be like to lose the man she spent most of her life loving. He was the one she counted on to be there no matter what. The way I rely on Marcel. I catch my breath as the intensity of her loss comes back to me. It makes me move with a sense of urgency to see my family.

  In about ten minutes, I find out I was right about where Marcel took the children, because I hear his deep laugh. I smile as I step out into the clearing, but my happiness is instantly replaced with shock. Marcel is standing knee-deep in a shallow section of the water with two bear cubs happily splashing near him. What the— Now my shock gets replaced with anger. “Marcel!” His laughter fades quickly too as he notices me stomping my way over. “What are you doing?” I screech from the riverbank.