Bear Valley Valentine: Valentine's Day Paranormal Romance (3 page)

“We should dry off. You’ll catch a cold. Here,” he said, standing and offering his hand that was calloused and streaked with ashes and water.

She hesitated just as her fingertips were about to touch his palm. Not because his hand was dirty from the toil of his labors, but because touching him felt dangerous in some way she couldn’t understand. Shaking her head to ward off her silliness, she pressed her palm against his and allowed him to pull her upward.

He was strong, stronger than she’d anticipated, and she fell forward against him with the force. He gripped her upper arms as her hands landed against the hard planes of his chest. His torso rose and fell under his ragged breath as seconds ticked by, and still she stood frozen against him. She shouldn’t feel safe around this sort-of stranger…but she did.

His heartbeat was strong and steady under her hands, and he looked down at her with eyes gone round, as if she’d startled him as much as she’d startled herself. His nose was straight and masculine. He lowered his dark eyebrows in an unspoken question, making his snow-colored eyes look even brighter.

“Do you wear the beard to hide from people?” she whispered, but regretted the words as soon as they’d left her lips. That was none of her business. Whatever had possessed her tongue to go speaking without permission needed to stop, and now.

With a gentle grip on her arms, he pushed her back from him, and she could see him closing down. His gaze hardened, then drifted over her head toward his cabin. “You wouldn’t like the way I look without it.”

The words cut something ugly into her middle. How could he say that? It was obvious she couldn’t stop staring at him. “You don’t know that.”

He dragged his attention to her and took another step away, then placed his hands behind his back. His formality stung. “I don’t like the way it looks.”

“Okay. That’s different then.” She frowned, trying to understand why a man with a physique that would draw any red-blooded, man-banging woman’s attention would want to hide behind a thick beard. From what she saw of his face, he was the handsomest man in all of Buffalo, maybe Wyoming. Hell, maybe the whole damned world, and he was up here in the mountains, avoiding relationships with other people. He didn’t seem like a particularly shy man, so what gave? “What happened to you?”

He huffed a breath as a muscle twitched under his eyes. She fought the urge to touch it and calm the stress there. His eye color seemed to blaze even brighter, but it had to be a trick of the setting sun that ghosted the horizon.

“Maybe you should go,” he gritted out.

“Or,” she said boldly, “you could invite me to stay for dinner and make up for standing me up for our coffee date.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

The words stung like a slap to the face. Gasping at the pain, she drew back. “It was to me.” She spun on her heel and stomped toward her car with as much dignity as she could muster, sopping wet and likely with a serious set of eyeliner-smeared raccoon eyes.

“Wait,” he drawled.

When she turned around to lay into him, he stood there, looking so lost and uncertain, the words clogged her throat. He ran his hands roughly through his short, black hair. “Will you stay for dinner? With me?”

Straightening her spine, she said, “I’d love to.” Her socks made undignified sloshing sounds in her boots as she marched past him and up the front porch stairs.

Hadley had expected a typical bachelor pad. Old grease-stained pizza boxes and dirty clothes littering the floor. Perhaps a musty smell and muddy boots tossed haphazardly by the door. What she saw when Colin leaned over her and opened the door to his home was as unexpected as raindrops on a sunny day. His cabin was small, but immaculate. A coatrack adorned a small entryway, which opened up to a living area with a couch and a recliner. A flat screen television had been mounted on the wall above a stone fireplace, and the kitchen sat ready for someone to cook in it across the den. She walked slowly past a hallway that seemed to lead to a bathroom and a single bedroom, and yelped when a streak of motion ran across the toe of her boot.

“That’s Boomerang,” Colin said, watching her like he was studying her reaction to his home. “The cat’s all feral, but he comes in through that make-shift doggy opening on the back door there, see?” He pointed. “He likes to take his meals inside like he’s fancy, but still won’t let me touch him. He just likes to tear around the house like he’s bat-shit crazy at three in the morning to drive me nuts.”

A patchy-furred calico cat hunched in the corner of the room and offered her a feral hiss as she walked by. “Boomerang is a girl.”

“What?” he asked.

“She’s a calico. See her mottled fur? All calicos are girls. It’s in their genetics to be female.”

He frowned and ran a hand down his beard like his mind had just been blown. “No wonder she’s always pissed off. I’ve been calling her a
him
from the day she dropped her first rat at my doorstep.”

“Ew. Why would she do that?”

Colin gave her an empty smile. “Because she’s begging sanctuary in the territory of a predator.”

His words made no sense, but maybe that’s what happened when a man spent too much time out in the woods. Perhaps he imagined himself a predator. She wouldn’t be rude and point out there were a whole heap of predators more adept to defending territory than some blunt-nailed human.

But when she turned around and noticed those unnatural eyes on her, the way the ash and water and sweat had streaked his face and made it fearsome looking, the way his thick muscles pressed against the damp fabric of his sweater, a shiver rattled up her spine.

If it were a competition between him and one of the soft men down the mountain in Buffalo, he’d win top predator with little effort.

Hadley burrowed into the oversized navy-colored sweater Colin had tossed her before he disappeared into the bathroom to shower. It smelled like him, crisp and masculine, with undertones of metal and ash. He’d probably worked in this shirt before, and the thought brought a pool of warmth to her middle. Oh, she’d witnessed sexy men before, but the sight of Colin working in his shop was a thing of beauty. The graceful arc of his hammer, his triceps flexing as he held the hot metal in place, his profile, eyes focused and jaw clenched as he dunked the glowing metal in water.

She sank onto his couch and sighed heavily. She was in trouble, and it was all sexy, muscly-armed Bearman Colin’s fault.

The tap sounded through the closed door of the bathroom, and she tried not to fantasize over what his body looked like under that showerhead with the jets of hot water bouncing droplets off his perfect skin. As water ran rivers down the curves of his chest, over each mound of his abdominals, and down, down…

With a growl, she clicked the power button on the remote that sat on the cushion beside her and turned up the volume on a riveting episode of Beginner’s Curling. She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the squishy sound her bra made, and glared at the television as she tried to reclaim her mind, which she’d obviously lost.

Eventually Boomerang-the-girl-cat perched on the arm of the couch and stared at her with eerie gold eyes. The critter didn’t even blink. Thoroughly creeped out, she moved farther down the couch.

The bathroom door opened, and Colin made his way across the hall with a fuzzy white towel around his waist.

Her imaginings of his shower time didn’t touch reality. One, because he was even more cut that she’d imagined, and two, because his skin was crisscrossed with shiny, silver scars.

Shocked, she jumped up and followed him. “What happened to your back? What did this to you?”

Colin turned, his eyes wide as he backed into his room. Hadley followed. This had to be part of the secret of why he’d chosen to live away from civilization. The scars looked gruesome, and she couldn’t imagine the pain he’d gone through to get them, but his uneven skin wasn’t the most shocking thing about him now.

He’d trimmed his beard until only short, designer stubble remained. He was so handsome her knees buckled against any forward motion.

“Animal attack,” he said in a gruff voice.

She was staring. Not at his tensed muscles or at the enticing trail of light hair that traveled from his naval into his towel. She was staring at the perfect claw mark that stretched from his neck to his cheek.

“This,” he said low, “this is why I keep the beard.”

She approached slowly, afraid he’d try to escape her. She stretched her fingertips until they touched the short whiskers across his jaw. And carefully, she traced one of the long, curving scars on his face. “You said I wouldn’t like the way you look without the beard hiding your face.” She swallowed hard. “You were wrong.”

His nostrils flared, and his eyes flashed brighter than she’d ever seen them. He looked as if a storm, churning and dangerous, was brewing inside of him, but when he approached and lowered his lips to hers, they were gentle and soft. He pressed his mouth on hers and sparks lit up her insides, making her feel unbalanced enough to grab his arms. Holy roman candles, a kiss had never felt like this before—like she was falling.

He shifted his weight, and drew her waist closer with a firm grip on her hips. She could feel his long, hard erection through the material of her clothes and his towel, and a soft, helpless noise wrenched from her throat. The thought of him between her legs filled her with desperation to be closer to him.

At the brush of his tongue against her lips, she leaned into him more until she was soaking up his warmth. She parted her lips and stifled the urge to moan as his tongue touched hers. He tasted divine, like mint toothpaste. His whiskers tickled her chin, but she didn’t care much about that right now.

Looping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and closed her eyes tighter. This man had given her a gift. Did he even see it as that? He’d shaved his beard for her, left scars that obviously bothered him exposed because she’d mentioned it. Maybe it was a test to see if she could really stomach the marred side of his face, she didn’t know. All she knew was it made her want to be even nearer to him. Made her want to know everything about him.

Made her fall for him even harder.

The cotton of her shirt bunched in Colin’s steely grip, and he tugged it over her head. Then he pulled at the band that held her hair in a ponytail and freed it with a slow smile. Easing back, he trailed his gaze the length of her collarbone, then down to her breasts, still trapped in her bra, which suddenly felt tight and uncomfortable. She’d blame it on the wet, chafing feel, but really, it was her scandalous hormones telling her to ditch the bra and free the boobs.

And right now, Colin and her hormones could have whatever they wanted.

As if he saw the yearning in her eyes, he reached behind her and unfastened her bra with one hand.
Snick
. It fell away from her arms, and he cupped the fullness of her in his calloused hands. Arching back, she sighed as he kneaded her. God, she should’ve known a man who forged blades would be good with his hands.

“You’re a noisy little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured in a soft stroke against her ear. “I like when you let me know what feels good.”

“This,” she said honestly. “This feels good.”

“Yeah?” He moved his hand to the front of her leggings, then pushed his way inside and cupped her sex. “What about this?”

“Yep. Yes, keep doing that, too.”

He chuckled and nibbled her ear. Okay, the man was going to make her detonate if this kept up, and she was forming plans. Punting her boots into a corner, she shimmied out of her pants with minimum grace and kicked off the clinging leggings. Completely vulnerable, she grinned wickedly at him and tugged at the edge of his towel.

“Hadley,” he gritted out. “Are you sure about this?”

“Are you asking because we are virtually strangers? Because I’d argue that we’ve been carrying on a relationship for a month. Also, no more talking unless you are telling me yes.”

An amused grin ghosted his lips as she pushed him back onto the bed while holding his towel in her other hand. The plush material slipped away from his hips as he sat, and he leaned back on locked elbows, allowing her a fantastic view of his shaft, standing rigid between his legs. It was red and swollen…ready for her. Stomach churning with need, she dropped to her knees and kissed the inside of his leg.

“What are you doing?” Colin asked, canting his head.

“Kissing you,” she said innocently.

The head of his cock glistened with a single dewy bead, and she tasted it, then kissed it in turn. His legs spasmed, and he reached for her head, like he couldn’t help himself, but stopped before he touched her.

With a patient smile, she pulled his hand around the back of her head. “Now, you tell me what you like.” She gripped his base, then took as much as she was able into her mouth. Retreating slowly, she sucked gently.

“Holy fuck, woman,” he whispered in a shaky voice.

His legs were flexed hard as stones, and his cock swelled in her mouth as she took him again, slowly.

She was teasing him, encouraging him to guide her, but he didn’t seem to want to push her too hard. On she tortured him until his eyes rolled back in his head and a guttural sound came from his throat. She liked it. He sounded like a wild animal, and she sucked harder. His fingers wound in her hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure, like he was still trying so hard to be gentle with her. That’s how she could tell he was a good-to-the-core type of man. No matter how she made him feel, he was determined not to be rough with her. Her heart tethered to him more thoroughly as she tasted another salty drop of moisture from his tip.

His hips bucked against her mouth, like he couldn’t help himself, and she slid her lips over him faster and harder this time, stroking him in rhythm with her hands. His stomach muscles clenched, as if he was losing himself, and he huffed out a helpless noise.

“Not yet, big boy,” she murmured, standing then straddling his lap.

His hands were stony as he gripped her hips, and lifted her high enough so he could slide into her. Her breath shook as he filled and stretched her. He was big, and she was tight, but she’d been ready for that and gripped his hair until the base of his cock bumped her clit. A moan escaped her lips as she rocked her hips and felt him against her sensitive spot again. He dipped down, drew the tightened bud of her nipple into his mouth, and lapped it to the rhythm of her rolling hips.

“Hadley,” he pleaded in a broken whisper.

She loved this, owned this. She felt powerful in his arms. Beautiful. Pressure filled her, pressing against her insides as the friction of their joining became more intense. “Oh!” she called out, arching against him as he brought his lips against her throat.

Colin bucked against her faster now, like his control was slipping. The bed creaked under him, and she clung tighter to his neck. And as the first wave of pleasure crashed through her, she brushed her teeth against his shoulder, tasting his skin.

“Hadley!” he gritted out as his hips froze.

Warmth shot into her, and he thrust erratically into her as her body pulsed around him. Breath ragged, he rubbed her back like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her. His heartbeat against her chest slowed as his hips stilled, and at last, he pulled her back onto the bed, still burrowed inside of her, and cradled her against him.

And that was the moment for her.

All of the witty banter and late night chats with him online were nothing compared to this connection she felt with him now. He was everything, consuming, mysterious, and gentle enough to hold her after what they’d done instead of push her away. He was different. Down to her core, she knew he was different from any man she’d ever met—from any man who she’d ever meet again. Everyone would be compared to Colin from here on, and none would match up.

“Hadley?” he murmured against her ear.

“Hmm?”

“I know you don’t much like the holiday, but tomorrow I want to take you out. Will you be my Valentine?”

Her chest felt too small for her heart. She wanted to cry at his sweetness. She wanted to hug him up tight and never let him go.

With a gentle kiss to one of the curved scars across his shoulder, she whispered, “I will on one condition.”

“Mmm,” he said in a sleepy, satisfied voice, his voice rattling against her cheek as she rested it on his chest. “And what’s that?”

She inhaled deeply and hoped she wasn’t pushing too hard or too fast. “I’ll be yours if you let me in.”