Bear-ly A Hero (Bear Claw Security 2) by Terry Bolryder Page A

chest, holding her to him and letting her rest her head on his reassuring shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for.”
    She wrapped her arms around him. “But you won’t be here forever.”
    He was quiet at that. “I need to teach you to fight back.”
    She bit her lip. “How?”
    “There are things I can teach you. We’ll do it… before I go.”
    There he went, talking about going again. She looked up at him. “So this thing between us, does it end when it’s over? Is it just sex?”
    “No,” he said, stroking her hair back behind her ear, looking more tender than she could ever expect a man that hard to look. “There’s more to this.”
    “What?” she asked.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “But there’s more.”
    She pulled back to run her hands down his chest, over his abs, to play with his belt with the tips of her fingers. She loved the feel of his body, already craved him again.
    “Is there more I can have now?” she asked coyly. Her body was craving him, her wolf howling for more every time he stood up for her, every time he was kind to her, every time he looked at her or touched her.
    No one had ever affected her like this, and she was afraid to tell him that because of the power it would give him over her.
    “Of course,” he said, holding her close. “I’ll give you all the ‘more’ you can take.”
    Then he bent to take her lips in a kiss.

11
    U nlike the harsh , sexy coming together they’d had earlier that day, this kiss was urgent and gentle, his lips soft against her as his hard hands stroked over the planes of her back and found her waist, kneading the softness there.
    She moaned and nearly sagged in his arms, but he put an arm around her, holding her up completely as his hand came down between them.
    She gasped as he covered her between her legs, right over her soft pajamas. She looked up at him and saw searing heat in his bright-green eyes, which darkened as his lashes lowered.
    “Limes,” she said, writhing against his hand. “More.”
    He rubbed lightly over her folds, finding her clit even through the soft fabric covering her. She could still feel his rough touch as if he were right against her, yet she needed more. She moaned as he dug in, and she put her hands down to pull on the waistband of her pajama pants. He took the hint and helped her wriggle out of them, pulling off her robe and her top and carrying her over to the couch. She was glad the shades were pulled down.
    He laid her on her back and then got on top of her, straddling her. His hand stroked lightly over her silky panties and then dipped inside.
    His gaze was heated, his jaw tense as he watched her react to the stroke of his fingertip over her bare, sensitive, damp skin. He dipped lower, touching inside her, where he’d been earlier. She was still a little raw, but it only enhanced the sensation, only aroused her more as she thought of what had happened between them, how hot it had been, how bare.
    As his finger dipped in again, feeling and testing, she pushed against him, wanting more of him, remembering how he felt, but he simply removed his finger and slid it over her clit again, gliding easily over it in a circular motion that made it impossible to think, impossible to do anything but gasp out his name.
    His mouth claimed her lips, harder this time, and his tongue swept into her mouth, thrusting inside and tasting every bit of her in a way that was heady and overwhelming and just so intensely right.
    Everything she let him do was so intimate, so vulnerable, yet she found herself helpless to resist. Her whole body wanted him so badly it felt like withdrawals when she imagined herself denying him.
    She loved everything about him, the look of him as he pulled back from the kiss, his lips wet from hers, his eyes intent as his finger worked faster, as his other hand dug into her hair and cupped her face, like she was precious to him and he wanted her to know that.
    She loved the heat of his body just above