Page 37 of Stout Bear

Thomas nodded and cleared their dinner plates efficiently.

“I want to celebrate,” Max replied. “The chocolate cake seemed appropriate.”

“Celebrate what?” she asked.

“No more secrets between us,” he said simply. “That’s worth celebrating.”

Minutes later, Thomas returned with their dessert—a single molten chocolate cake on a white plate, dusted with powdered sugar and accompanied by a small scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. Steam rose delicately from the cake’s center when he set it down. Max slid one of the two spoons to Laney, smiling at her across the table. “Ladies first.”

Laney broke through the cake’s surface with her spoon, releasing a flood of warm chocolate from its center. She took a bite combining the cake, molten center, and a bit of ice cream. The contrast of warm and cold, bitter and sweet created a perfect harmony on her tongue.

“Oh my goodness,” she moaned softly. “That’s incredible.”

Max tried a bite himself, nodding in agreement. “So good.”

They shared the dessert, occasionally catching each other’s gaze. When the last bite was gone, Laney sat back in her chair, feeling more content than she had in years.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Laney’s heartfluttered as Max guided her down the hallway toward their suite, his hand warm and steady against the small of her back. Max slid the keycard into the door, the lock clicking open with a soft electronic beep.

“After you,” he murmured, his voice making her inner fox stir with anticipation.

Laney stepped into the suite and paused, taking in the sight. Warm amber lighting from several strategically placed lamps cast a gentle glow across the spacious living area. A stone fireplace dominated one wall, already lit and crackling with a welcoming blaze that filled the room with warmth. The lodge staff had stoked it up while they were at dinner, creating a romantic atmosphere.

There was a silver bucket with champagne on ice and two crystal flutes on the table. Max shrugged off his jacket, draping it over a chair before grabbing the champagne. The firelight danced across his features as he worked the cork free. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, foam briefly spilling over his fingers before he poured the sparkling liquid into both glasses.

“Come sit with me,” he invited, gesturing toward the couch in front of the fireplace.

Laney slipped off her heels and padded across the floor to join him. Max handed her a flute of champagne, their fingers brushing in a touch that sent a small current of electricity up her arm.

“A toast,” Max said, raising his glass. “To us.”

“To us,” Laney echoed, clinking her glass gently against his. The champagne tasted crisp and bright on her tongue, tiny bubbles dancing against her palate.

She took another sip, letting the warmth of the fire and the events of the evening wash over her. “This feels like a dream,” she admitted, watching the flames flicker and twist in the hearth.

“A good dream,” Max replied, his voice soft.

Laney nodded, meeting his gaze. “The best.”

The sincerity in his eyes made her heart skip. Her inner fox responded with a surge of warmth and longing. This was what she had waited for her entire life without knowing it—someone who saw her completely and wanted her anyway.

Max leaned closer, pressing his lips to hers. Their tongues met and twined, and she tasted champagne on his mouth. They broke apart, both panting slightly. Max carefully took her champagne flute and set it alongside his on the small table, then turned back to her with unbridled desire on his face.

“You're so stunning,” he murmured against her skin. “I've wanted you all night.”

He leaned down to press his mouth against her neck, peppering kisses on the sensitive skin that made goosebumps rise on her arms. Laney tilted her head to allow him better access, letting out a quiet moan. His fingers brushed the side of her breast, then confidently grasped it through the fabric of her dress. His touch warmed her entire body from the inside out, kindling desire deep within. The thrill of being craved so openly was exhilarating.

Growing more daring, Laney allowed her hands to roam across Max's broad shoulders before sliding down to the front of his pants, feeling his erection straining against the fabric. The knowledge that she affected him so strongly sent a thrill through her. Emboldened, she began to stroke him through his pants, delighting in his sharp intake of breath as she teased him.

“Laney,” he groaned, the sound somewhere between pleasure and warning. His eyes had darkened, pupils dilated with desire.

She continued her exploration, unfastening his belt and then his pants with trembling fingers. Max watched her, his breathing growing more ragged as she freed him from his clothing. Her hand wrapped around his length, stroking slowly as she marveled at the velvet hardness of him.

A low growl rumbled from deep in Max’s chest, the sound primal and barely human. His control was visibly slipping, the bear within him responding to her touch. Rather than frightening her, the evidence of his inner animal thrilled Laney. Her own fox stirred in answer, urging her to push him further.

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