Page 32 of Bear

“Fuck you, Bear,” I hiss.

He pushes into me in one hard, fast movement. It’s too much, too good, too hot, too fast, too tight, too fucking mind-blowing.

“Yeah, fuckme, baby girl. Show Daddy how much you missed my dick.” He grunts as he drives in deeper. My mouth falls open, and all I can do is hold on for dear life with my hands clasped firmly around his neck while he fucks me against the wall of the bakery as if there isn’t the possibility of anyone coming along to find us. I no longer care how mad I am with the MC, or the fact that once again, I’m fucking a man I can’t stand, a man I love to hate, or that I’m loving every second of it.

His breath saws in and out of his lungs with every thrust. I moan, my own breathing affected by the way he’s pounding into me. I slide my fingers down my body, snaking them between us. I rub my clit, desperate to come, desperate to forget everything that’s happened during these past few days. The shooting, watching Grant bleed out all over my shop floor and being unable to save him, Bobby Ray’s confession, and the tape that followed afterward. Giving my body to a man I despise to save the shop. I block out the fact that I’ve watched the video at least ten times since, studying the way he rocks his hips, his gorgeous face—which is so expressive when he’s inside me, so tender—and then the evidence of our coupling trickling out of me.

My orgasm slams into me so hard and so unexpectedly that I’m hit with a flash of pain through my head. I dig my nails into Bear’s back, my heels into his ass, and ride the pleasure through it as he jerks inside me.

“Jesus. It’s so fucking hot when you rub your pussy. I’m gonna have to get that on tape so I can fuck my fist every day just watching it.”

“Well,” I gasp. “I’m pretty sure it’s on the internet.”

“You’ve watched it?” He pulls away to meet my gaze and I lower mine, unable to meet his eyes. Fuck.Way to blow your goddamn cover there, Jupiter.

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Does it matter?” I snap and attempt to pull away, but I’m pinned between him and the wall and impaled on his cock, and there aren’t a whole lot of places I can go. “I need you to put me down.”

Surprise flits across his face before he locks it down and his perma-pissed-off expression is back. He pulls out, and I gasp from the pleasure of it, but those thoughts are quickly shut down when his cold tone washes over me. “Anything you want, darlin’.” He sets me on my feet. “Now, how ’bout that dance?”

I laugh and run my hands through what is undoubtably “sex hair.” Even Bear’s hair is sweaty and mussed from our back-alley romp.

His expression falters, his smile disappearing. “Is there somethin’ funny about that, Tink?”

“I’m not dancing with you, and stop fucking calling me that.”

His gaze burns into mine, and I have half a mind to lower my eyes in submission, but I’ve never been the kind of girl to back down from a challenge, and I’m sure as hell not going to start with this biker.

“Oh, I see how it is. Not too good to fuck on camera for money, or to satisfy your goddamn itch in an alley, but you’re too fucking good to show a biker a little love in public, is that it?”

I’m suddenly so tired, I can barely stand. I don’t have the energy to fight with him anymore. “What do you want from me, Bear?”

“Nothin’.” He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I already got exactly what I wanted from you, twice.”

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“I’mthe asshole?” He arches a brow and shakes his head. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m the asshole for believing there could be something more here. Something worth sticking around for.”

I swallow, because damn, if that wasn’t just a knife to my gut. “Fine. One dance, and you can wait until I’ve finished my dinner.”

“Don’t do me any favors, darlin’.”

“I’m not ... I don’t ...” I sigh. “My life is complicated.”

“Bullshit. From where I’m standing, it seems startlingly uncomplicated. You have the garage, your brothers, but what else do you have?”

“Me. The only person I can really depend on.” I shake my head. I’m too emotionally exhausted for this conversation. I just want to take my food to go, drive home, and crash on the couch. “You know, I’m not looking for a man to save me. I’ve gotten pretty good at saving myself, so as much as I appreciate the gesture, I’ve got this.”

“I’m not tryin’ to save you, darlin’. Anyone can see you don’t need it, but when you’re lying in bed at night, thinking about my dick inside your hot little cunt, and you’re wishin’ for somethin’—someone—to make you feel a little less empty, remember this conversation. Remember that I see through that tough little femme Dom exterior to the woman underneath. It’s okay to want; it’s okay to let someone in. Admitting you want more isn’t a bad thing, but what you do about it could be if you let the only man who sees you slip through your fingers.”

“You don’t know me, Bear.”

“I didn’t say I knew you,” he hisses. “I said, Iseeyou. And since I deal with denial and self-loathing on an hourly basis, I know it when it’s staring me in the face.”

“Not everyone is twisted up inside like you, Tennessee.” It’s a low blow, and strangely, I feel horrible as soon as I’ve said the words. “Don’t pretend to know what’s going on in my head.”

“You know what I learned after four years as a Navy SEAL? Not everything is ‘ignore and override.’ And sometimes you just have to put down your weapon and stop fighting.”

He walks away without a backward glance, and I lean my head on the brick, feeling all of the fight drain out of me. But if I put down my weapons, if I let him in, I don’t know how I’ll survive him leaving—and he will leave. After all, that’s what nomads do.

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