Free Target: BillionBear: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant Page A

Kesley, as far as I know now this is my first time, and I want it to be in you. Together.”
    She’d thought, after that amazing high he’d given her, that she was done, but his words shot heat straight to her core, and she laughed, pulling her top off and tossing it and her dangling bra to the side. With an abandon she had never thought to feel in her life she straddled his hips—and lowered herself onto him, an inch at a time. At once his hips began to buck. She reveled in the silk of his skin, the hardness of his cock that filled her so exquisitely—and began to rock as she worked him deeper into her.
    His hands came up to caress her breasts. She leaned into his grip, riding him with a deeper roll of her hips. Her clit rubbed against his length sliding in and out, building the heat of friction, and she shot to even higher heights, teetering on the brink as he gave a long hissing sigh, coming so hard that she crested again, so strong and hard and sweet that stars flickered in her vision.
    She collapsed onto his chest and his arms closed around her, fingers burying in her hair as they pulsed in rhythm together. Kesley slowly became aware of the grass tickling her back, and the fast-cooling air of evening. She didn’t want to move.
    And that’s when the theme from Cats began to play on her cell phone.
    “That’s my sister,” she said with a sigh.
    “Maybe you’d better get it,” he murmured into her hair.
    Reluctantly they untangled their limbs. Her ribs hollowed at the way he caressed her over her shoulder and down her arm as she sat up.
    “I hope nothing is wrong,” she muttered, and got up on her knees to reach for her purse.
    As she did, she glanced at Jameson, admiring his beautiful chest as he sat up and began to sort through the clothes they had thrown off with abandon. As he turned his back to reach for his shirt, her gaze slid over his shoulder. And stopped.
    Instead of the black and blue mess she’d expected to see after that hideous encounter earlier, she looked down on the multi-colored blotches of a half-healed bruise.

 
    Chapter Six
     
     
    Kesley, Jameson quickly discovered, was a genius at massage. It was like she had some kind of telepathy—she knew exactly where to press, and how hard. It felt miraculously good. So good that the residual ache from his shoulder all the way down his arm and to the back of his spine began to fade, leaving him with the world’s worst case of pants rocket.
    The weird thing was, though he didn’t think he was all that sensitive a guy or he’d be a lot farther along in his recovery than he was, he’d been pretty sure she was turned on as well. He thought he could feel it in the touch of her palms—a caress—but mostly in her compellingly wonderful bouquet of scents.
    He guessed that he’d always had a sensitive nose. He remembered how sickening he found Beth’s perfume, though it was apparently expensive. A couple times he’d smelled sharp anger or fear sweat on some of the other patients at Tranquil Breezes, before husky nurses calmly escorted the guys away to somewhere else in the facility.
    With Kesley that close, he could smell the subtleties of her acrylic paints, and the soap she’d washed her hands with, and the faint remains of her shampoo, but over them all lay the sweet and salty smell of her as she moved, and he looked up at her softly parted lips, and heard her breathing. And before his mind could react, his entire body caught fire.
    And damn if she didn’t catch fire just as hot, with passion and sweetness and a blaze that ignited a bombshell of happiness inside him that he couldn’t remember ever feeling. Her rounded, soft curves fitted him as if she had been made for him.
    He could have lain there with her all night, making love again and again, but her phone rang, blasting them back into the world.
    Reality closed in, bringing memory of danger, and all the questions.
    As he sat up, some of the earlier pain echoed, blissfully forgotten