Page 26 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
“Are you hurt?” His voice is rough, urgent. “I heard the crash.”
I should answer. I should look away. I should do literallyanythingexcept kneel here, eye level with his impressive anatomy, while my brain tries to process what its seeing.
“I...” The word comes out as a squeak. “The pots.”
He seems to realize his state then, looking down at himself with dawning horror. His hands move to cover himself, but there’s too much to hide, and the gesture only draws more attention to what he’s trying to conceal.
“I was swimming,” he says quickly. “In the creek. Getting rid of the grease when I heard the noise and...”
I nod but notice his hair is completely dry. No water droplets on his skin except for what might be sweat. And no wet footprints on the floor behind him.
“You were swimming?” I repeat dumbly, still on my knees, staring up at him from beneath my lashes.
Every muscle in his stomach stands out. It’s not a six-pack; it’s an eight-pack. Maybe even ten.
“Yes.” His jaw tightens as he looks down at me and shifts his weight from leg to leg, making his impressive thigh muscles clench. “Swimming.”
A beat of silence. Then another as I run my tongue along my bottom lip before digging my teeth into it, afraid that if I open my mouth, I’ll do something just as stupid as earlier. Like lick it.
“I should...” He gestures vaguely behind him, those eyes hungry, and fixed on my mouth.
“Clothes,” I supply helpfully, resting my fingers on my knees and curling them into my bare skin to keep them where they can’t get me into any more trouble. “You should get clothes.”
“Right. Clothes.”
But neither of us moves.
His eyes drop to where I’m kneeling, his flannel I’m wearing having risen dangerously high, and takes in my position. The way my chest rises and falls with quick breaths. His nose twitches again, and something dark flashes in his expression, there and gone so fast, I think I might have imagined it.
Then he turns abruptly, giving me an unrestricted view of his magnificent backside as he strides down the hall. Firm. Sculpted. Hard in a way that makes my fingers itch to dig my nails into it.
The bedroom door slams shut.
I collapse from my knees to sit properly on the floor, saucepan clattering beside me. My heart pounds so hard, I can hear it in my ears. My skin feels too tight, too warm, like I might combust from embarrassment and something else. Something that has nothing to do with mortification but everything to do with the way he looked standing there, powerful, like he wanted to devour me whole.
“Why was he naked?” I whisper to the empty kitchen, unable to think of any reasonable explanation. “Swimming. He was definitely about to go swimming.”
8
BEN
The bedroom door slams behind me with more force than necessary. I lean against it, chest heaving, trying to get control of myself. Of my bear.
She was on her knees.
The image burns behind my eyelids. Zara kneeling on my kitchen floor, wearing nothing but my shirt, looking up at me with those wide, green eyes. Her lips parted. That pink tongue darting out to wet them. The way she bit down on that plump bottom lip…
And her scent.Fuck,her scent.
My bear claws at my insides, wanting to go back out there, to claim what he insists is ours.
It’s everywhere in this cabin now, but concentrated in here, where she’s been sleeping in my bed. And now, it fills my head, mixed with arousal so thick, I can taste it in the air.
When she looked at me like that, positioned perfectly to...
I growl, pushing off the door to pace the small room. My cock throbs, still hard from her accidental touch at breakfast, and now, so stiff, it aches. I stalk to the bed, hands clenched into fists. The sheets are still rumpled, the pillow still holding the indent ofher head. Without thinking, I sit on the edge of the mattress and grab the pillow, bringing it to my face.
The combination is intoxicating. My soap from her shower last night, mixed with her natural scent. Clean and sweet and utterly devastating.
