Mary and the Bear (8 page)

Enough reminiscing. She'd better move, otherwise she'd wake up on the couch. She finished her drink and tossed the cup on the table. She'd get it in the morning. After turning off the lights, she headed for her room, stripping as she went. At the last minute, she detoured to the bathroom. She was sweaty from all of the dancing and needed a shower. The abrupt change of direction caused her to stumbled, and she fell against the wall, feeling a bit woozy. The sooner she laid down the better. She was so tired, she was dizzy.

She intended to rush through her shower, but the hot water felt so good beating on her weary muscles that she lingered. Another wave of dizziness hit and she decided she'd better finish. She rushed through the rest of her shower and almost fell over trying to wash her legs. Man, she better get to bed quick. She turned off the water, and left the towel on the rack. No sense drying off. She'd just fall on her face. No one could see that she was naked. She opened the door, her mind focused on getting into bed and stopped liked she'd run into an invisible wall.

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His nerves hadn't been stretched this tight since his last mission. He'd given Uncle Sam twenty years of his life, going on missions and putting his life on the line for his county. In a way, he could understand Mary Elizabeth. He knew what it was like to have other people controlling your actions, always having to answer to someone other than yourself. While he understood how she felt, it didn't change a thing. She was his mate. She'd just have to adjust.

If he'd had doubts before, he didn't now. His beast was straining at the leash, urging him to hurry. Its mate was in danger and it wanted out. He controlled it, knowing patience was the key. He couldn't afford to screw this up by rushing. It might cause him to miss something he needed to see.

To calm himself, he thought back to his conversation with Alex. The thought of her leaving caused a growl to rumble out of his chest as his beast rattled against its cage. He and his beast were in perfect agreement. His mate was going nowhere, not if he had anything to do with it.

His thoughts returned to the mysterious Charles. Why had she mentioned him? Did she have something going with her brother-in-law? She didn't seem like the type to do something like that. Maybe she was referring to someone else. It didn't matter. She belonged to him, no matter what anyone else thought. He wasn't sure why, but something about this woman brought out the caveman in him. He wanted to grab Mary Elizabeth by her hair and drag her into his cave, using his club on anyone who got in his way.

Once he was sure she was okay, he was going to set her straight on a few things. It didn't matter what she wanted. She was his. She could just get over any issues she had with him. At the first opportunity, he was claiming her. Given the way she felt, he'd probably have to trick her. Giving it some thought, he set up his battle plan. Once, he'd excelled at strategic planning. Claiming Mary Elizabeth was the most important mission of his life. He'd need all of his skills to accomplish it.

First, he needed to build upon the attraction she felt for him. She could deny it all she liked, but there was something powerful between them. Something explosive. All he had to do was to convince her to explore their attraction and let nature take its course. Let her think it was her choice. Get her to let her guard down and the mating heat would do the rest.

It seemed to take forever but he made it all the way into town without spotting her vehicle. He saw the diner, and drove around back. Her truck was parked haphazardly in the lot. He viewed it with trepidation, relieved that she'd made it home but concerned because she usually parked with more care than what he was seeing.

He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the top. Hugh banged on the door, and then waited in vain for a response. The walls of the apartment were too thick for him to hear anything inside, even with his sensitive hearing. When he'd waited what he thought was a reasonable amount of time for her to answer the door, he pulled out his keys and let himself in.

Once inside, he could hear the shower running. He wasn't leaving until he saw for himself that she was fine. He closed the door, and as an afterthought, locked it as well. There was a cup sitting on the coffee table, one he recognized from Alex's house. He could smell the alcohol from where he stood. Damn, she must have grabbed another drink on her way out of the door. The shower cut off. As he turned toward the bathroom, he spotted her skirt lying on the floor. A few paces beyond that lay the top she'd worn.

He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch as his temperature suddenly spiked. He paced back and forth, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. Screw that! It was taking her too long. He was going in there to check on her. As his hand reached for the knob, the door opened and out stepped Mary Elizabeth, wet, naked and glistening.

The blood instantly drained from his head to his groin. Everything but the need to mate forgotten, he reached for her. Mary Elizabeth spotted him and turned sheet white, and then an interesting shade of green. She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes mirroring her distress right before she spun around and hurled herself at the toilet. Sounds of retching could be heard as her body released the contents of her stomach.

Oh hell, he'd been afraid of this. Pushing up his sleeves, he followed her into the bathroom. She knelt on the floor hugging the toilet as her body heaved and spasmed. He gathered her hair, pulling it up and back, and made soothing noises. He stayed like that until her stomach was empty and she was dry heaving.

Hugh wet a washcloth with cold water and placed it on her hot, sweaty forehead. Using her hair like a handle, he tugged her head back until it rested on his thigh. When she stopped heaving, he helped her stand and supported her while she rinsed and gargled. Then he carefully lifted her into his arms, carried her into the bedroom, and laid her on top of the bed.

He searched until he found her pain reliever. A glass of water in one hand, and pills in the other, he returned to the room and sat on the bed beside her. He slid his hand under her neck and lifted her into a half-sitting position.

"Drink this. You don't want to dehydrate. Take small sips and it won't upset your stomach. If you keep the water down, swallow some pain reliever."

He brought the cup to her mouth and held it there, helping her hold onto it just in case in her weakness she dropped it. She cautiously took a few small sips, and when those stayed down, she took a few more. When she'd had enough, she pushed the cup away and turned her head. Hugh brought the cup back to her mouth and pressed it against her lips.

"If you can, try to drink all of it. Your body's had a shock and the more water you drink now, the better you'll feel later."

She swallowed a bit more of the water, and then turned her head away, her lips pressed tightly together. “No more. It's trying to come back up."

Hugh took the cup and set it on the nightstand, and then lowered her body back to the bed.

"What's wrong with me? Was it something I ate? And what are you doing here?"

"No, nothing was wrong with the food. It's not what you ate that's the problem. It's what you drank. Shifter Surprise. Didn't the bartender warn you not to drink it? Your body's reacting to the alcohol.” If she didn't look so miserable, she'd be over his knee right now, getting the spanking of her life.

"The bartender mentioned something about the drink being strong, but I wasn't in a mood to listen. How did you find out?"

"Kiesha told us, thank God. You have no idea how worried we were, especially when we discovered you had already left. Anything could have happened.” And that was before he knew she'd gotten a second one. He'd have been a basket case had he known. “The next time a bartender tells you a drink is too strong, listen to him."

She didn't get a chance to answer. She lurched off of the bed and sprinted back into the bathroom for round number two. Hugh followed closely behind and assisted as he had before, until she was back in bed again. They went through this twice more until her system was totally purged. After laying her on the bed the last time, he called Alex and let him know that she was okay. Alex wanted to send someone over, but Hugh convinced him not to. He'd played nursemaid to plenty of drunken soldiers in his time, so he knew exactly what to do.

Back into the room, he expected to find her sleeping. Instead, she was in the fetal position, shivering. Cursing, he rushed to her side and placed his hand on her forehead. She leaned into his touch.

"Cold. So cold,” she managed to get out through clenched teeth.

Without delay, Hugh scooped her up, flipped back the covers, laid her down and tucked her in. He waited to see if that would help. It didn't. She was curled up so tight she was nothing but a small lump under the covers.

Damn, her body was reacting to the alcohol. He had to get her warm. If he couldn't, he was going to have to take her to the emergency room for alcohol poisoning. He flung off his clothes and climbed under the covers with her. He reached over and uncurled her body, pulling her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. She fought him like a weak kitten until the heat from his body began to soak in. Then she wrapped her body around his like a clinging vine. He groaned and felt his body respond as her bare breast disturbed the small smattering of hair on his chest, her puckered nipples poking into him. His erection rose, nudging against her opening.

He gritted his teeth and forced his body to stand down, resisting the urge to thrust up and sheath his body in her heat. Now was not the time, but soon. Very, very soon. He made himself think of mundane things until he had control over his baser instincts. When he gained it, he forced his body to relax and rest while it could. It was shaping up to be a long night.

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"Mary Beth, where are you? Mary Beth!” the voice cried out.

"Babs, I'm here. Where are you? I can't see. The fog's too thick.” She twirled around in a circle, trying to pinpoint the direction from which Babs’ voice was coming. Fog was everywhere. She could barely see two feet in front of her.

"Mary Beth, I needed you and you let me down. It's all your fault. I'm dead now because of you. Why didn't you stop me?” The voice came again, this time to her left, its cry more urgent.

"I tried. You wouldn't listen. It's not my fault.” As she stepped to the left, hands held out in front of her, something shadowy went by on her right, disturbing the fog. She spun around in that direction, only to find nothing there. “Babs! Where are you, Babs? I'm coming."

"You were supposed to protect me, Mary Beth. You let me down. Failed me when I needed you the most."

Something shadowy went by on her left, and she spun in that direction, trying to see what it was. “You made your own decision. You didn't listen. You never listened."

"You're supposed to watch over me. Mother told you to protect me.” Babs’ face appeared out of the fog. It was gray and freakish-looking, like something out of a horror movie. Mary Elizabeth flinched and jerked away, falling on her behind. In the background, like an evil voiceover, she could hear her mother. “You're such a failure, Mary Elizabeth. Can't even do the simplest things. Now your failure's cost your sister her life."

"It's not my fault. I'm not responsible for Babs.” She backpedaled, trying to get away from the ghostly apparition masquerading as her sister Babs.

Babs and her mother's disembodied heads spun around her in a circle, cutting off all avenues of exit, their voices chanting, “Your fault. Your fault."

Mary Elizabeth jerked awake, gasping for air. Tears ran down her face and her heart pounded like it would jump out of her chest. Their words echoed in her mind.

A light clicked on, causing her to blink rapidly as her eyes struggled to adjust.

"What's wrong? Are you sick again?” Hugh's voice was groggy with sleep. He sat up and rubbed his hand across his face, like he was trying to wake up.

Mary Elizabeth shook her head. She lay down and turned her back toward him, hoping he would go back to sleep. Her throat was too tight for her to give him a verbal answer. There was a heavy silence. She could feel him watching her. She hunched her shoulders defensively, resisting the urge to wipe the tears from her face. She really didn't want him to know she was crying. Let him think she was drifting back to sleep.

She could feel his eyes, boring a hole in her back like he had x-ray vision. It was causing her nerves to draw up tight. She could feel the tension in her neck and shoulders.

"If you're not sick, what's wrong?"

Silence.

"I know something is wrong. You're body's too tense for you to be sleeping."

When she refused to respond, he gave a long, drawn out sigh, like she was vexing him. She slid her legs off the bed, needing to get to the bathroom where she could have some privacy. Before her feet touched the floor, Hugh's arm reached out and snagged her by the waist, dragging her across the bed and into his lap. “If you're not sick, it must be something else."

She kept her face turned away from him, still not answering. She was doing all she could not to break down and cry. If she opened her mouth, it would all come out.

"Alex told me about what happened to your sister. Must have been rough. Want to talk about it?"

At his words, she jerked and shook her head rapidly, and a sob escaped before she could choke it back. She was not going to cry. She hated to cry.

Hugh wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “It's okay to cry, you know. You need to grieve. Let it out. Don't hold it in. You'll only make yourself sick if you do."

She pushed against him, trying to get away. He held her tight. “Let go."

"Not until you release those tears you're holding back and get it out of your system."

"I'm not crying. I detest crying. There's nothing to cry about. She's dead and gone and crying won't bring her back. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. She wouldn't listen and now she's dead. Oh God, Hugh, she's dead. Why didn't she listen to me?” With that, the dam burst and she began crying in earnest. Fighting Hugh, she tried to free herself and get away from him, not wanting anyone to see her like this.

Hugh locked her in an iron grip, refusing to release her. Instead, he gathered her even closer to his body, rocking her and making soothing noises. Still, she fought him even as she fought against the grief, until she'd exhausted her strength. Giving in, she slumped against him and let it out—all the sorrow and the conflicting feelings she felt for her sister that she loved yet now could admit that she hated with equal passion. She cried for years of mistreatment by her mother, but most of all she cried for what should have been and never was.

The tears went on and on, until all that was left were the hiccups. Hugh lifted her off of his lap and went into the bathroom. She curled up on her side, facing away from him. He climbed back under the covers and pulled her close before handing her the tissues. She wiped her still streaming eyes and blew her stuffy, clogged up nose. Her face felt hot and swollen, and her body sore.

Hugh curved around her back like a spoon, with her head tucked under his chin and his arm around her waist, holding her tight. She closed her eyes and tried to stop the flow of the tears tracking silently down her face. They wouldn't stop. Memory after memory, of good times and bad, flowed through her mind like a river. With each memory came a fresh flood of weeping. She needed to stop crying. She had to do something get her mind off of the past. Enough was enough.

She turned in his arms, shifting to face him, and pushed steadily against his chest until he was half lying on his back. Then she threw an arm around his waist and began to spread kisses all over his chest.

"Uh, Mary Elizabeth. What are you doing?"

It should be obvious. If he had to ask, she wasn't doing it right. She pushed him again until he lay completely on his back. Her hand slid down to stroke his rapidly hardening cock.

"Honey, that feels good, but I don't think this is a good idea. Let's wait until you're feeling better."

Mary Elizabeth ignored him. She threw her leg over his and straddled his thighs. Sliding backwards, she worked her way down his torso with her mouth.

"Mary Elizabeth, stop. Let's discuss this.
Baby, please
. I don't think you know what you're doing."

Why won't he shut up? She didn't want to talk. Couldn't he tell?

Hugh had a decision to make. He didn't want to take advantage of her fragile emotional state. It might jeopardize his long-term objective, but he couldn't allow her to continue with her current course of action.

His body jerked in reaction to the feel of her hot, moist breath on his penis. She grabbed his cock with both hands and was frantically sucking the head. This was nothing like before. Her head was bobbing up and down like she was in a race to finish him off as fast as possible. He reached down and tried to pry her off of him. She fought against him, tightening her teeth on his cock in warning when he persisted. Hands in the air, he surrendered and let her have her way.

This wasn't right. He wasn't sure how he'd envisioned their first night together, but this wasn't it. How to stop her without hurting her or worse, inflicting pain upon his most valuable asset? While he was strategizing the options available to him with the least amount of collateral damage, she abruptly stopped.

Rising above him, she positioned her body and tried to impale herself on his cock. It didn't work. One, the woman obviously didn't know what she was doing. Two, she was tight and dry. She was not forcing him inside, no matter how hard she tried. Finally, she gave a shriek of frustration and slapped him on his stomach. “Help me!"

He casually reached out and caught both of her wrists in his hand and pulled until she lay flat on top of his body. Then he rolled them until he was on top. “If you want me to help you, you have to tell me what it is you are trying to do.” His tone was utterly reasonable, but there was a hint of steel underneath.

She held his gaze for only a moment before her eyes to slide away in shame. Tears once more filled her eyes. She was such a failure, just like her mother stated. Here she was, naked and willing, and she couldn't even seduce the man into having sex with her.

"Unh, unh, unh. Look at me."

She gathered her courage and then raised her eyes to meet his, which immediately drilled into hers. “I'm sorry, Hugh. I just wanted a distraction, something to take my mind off of Babs and all of the memories. I just can't deal with them right now."

He studied her for a moment, gauging her sincerity. He was quiet for so long that she began to squirm. “I can help you, if that's what you want. But know this. This won't be a one-time deal. You will not use me tonight and then toss me away tomorrow. Understood? Know what you're asking because if we do this, it's just the beginning. There won't be any turning back. I won't let you go. Do you accept my terms?"

She blinked at him while nervously chewing on her bottom lip. He could almost see her mind churning as she cautiously examined his words, looking for the trap contained within. He watched her like a predator with his prey, willing her to agree to his terms. One simple yes, and she was his.

"I understand. I accept your terms,” she said solemnly.

His beast roared in triumph, but the man was more subdued. He wouldn't pass up this opportunity, but it wouldn't be the fierce claiming his nature demanded of him. That would have to come later, and there would be a later. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She didn't really want sex. What she wanted and desperately needed was sleep. She sought a way to shut her mind off so she could rest, and he needed to mark her, claim as his. He would give them what they both desired.

He repositioned his body so that his legs lay on the outside of hers, his erection heavy against her mound. He braced his forearms on either side of her head and resting his weight on them. Then he lowered his face until they were eye-to-eye. Her eyes immediately shied away. “No, look at me. Look me in the eye."

His eyes were two inches away. She didn't she'd ever been this close to anyone in her life. Eyes were such strange things. From a distance, his appeared to be black. Now that she was close, she could see there were specks of gold in his eyes. She felt her eyes losing focus.

"Hey, keep your eyes and your mind focused on me."

She snapped back to attention, unaware that her mind had drifted. This was so uncomfortable. If the eyes really were the windows to the soul, she wondered what hers revealed. Could he see what a failure she was? Did all her disappointments show? Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was too old and too fat to be trying to attract a man's attention now. What did she have worth offering?

"Mary Elizabeth.” He cupped her face, and put the tip of his nose right against hers. “Look at me. Not through me. I need you to focus, honey. Don't let your mind wander. Breathe with me. Inhale when I exhale. Focus your attention on me. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try."

"Good girl."

Mary Elizabeth concentrated on matching her breathing to his. She focused on the feel of his chest, rising and falling; the soft caress of his breath against her lips, all the while staring deep into his eyes. When he inhaled, she exhaled and when he exhaled, she inhaled. On and on it went—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale—until his very essence permeated her body.

It was the most intimate thing she'd ever done. She never realized just how rarely she gave complete eye contact with anyone. Mary Elizabeth saw him, really saw him, like she was looking into his soul.

Their breathing synchronized on its own and she no longer had to keep track. She felt his body surrounding hers. Felt the heat of his sex, nestled against hers. Felt his breath upon her face as they breathed the same air. She inhaled deeply, trying to breath in more of his scent. She could feel her body softening under his, the tension leaving it. Her nipples began to tighten into little buds that brushed against his chest with each inhalation. Moisture began to pool deep within before leaking out to dampen her mound and run down her thighs.

Slowly, their breathing increased, his keeping pace with hers as arousal coursed through her body. Yet he did nothing more than looking at her. Look into her, like he could see her soul and was entranced by what he saw. She moved restlessly, seeking closer contact.

"Be still,” he whispered. “Be still and feel."

"I'm trying.” She could feel something building inside of her. Something strong. She wanted, no, needed something that she knew he could give to her.

Slowly, oh, so very slowly, he closed the distance between them and laid his lips on top of hers. He didn't move. He didn't try to kiss her. He just lay there with his lips pressed against hers, forcing her to breathe through her nostrils, his eyes maintaining contact the whole while. She forced herself to lie there as he instructed and follow his lead. Finally, as though rewarding her for good behavior, he gave her more.