Matthew (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 1) (62 page)

We both watched Clarissa run full tilt to the train.

“She moves quickly,” Sven said, his eyebrows raised.

“Does she think she’ll miss the train? Or was it something I said?” I shook my head. “Women.”

“Ha!” Sven said, his eyes eager. “The hunt has begun! Our prey will not escape us.”

Sven’s idea had merit. She was even more beautiful in person. Full lips I wanted to bite. Breasts I wanted to suckle from. A waist I wanted to hold onto while I took her. Just the thought was arousing the beast in me. That ever present other mind that every Shifter has to manage on a daily basis. A good mate was key for that.  “Let’s get on the train,” I said curtly.

“It looks like she’s awoken something in you, too. Good. Use that,” Sven said, slapping me on the shoulder. “I was worried you were going soft on me.”

I dropped my luggage in my private train car and collapsed onto the long bench that ran down one wall. The walls were paneled in dark wood, and the two frame window opposite the door showed the idyllic countryside. Green pastures stretched off into the distance. Hills and mountains rose far off along the horizon.

I could hear loud voices from outside. Ticket takers, luggage handlers and other crew were calling out for any late boarders. Every now and then I heard people shuffle down the hallway outside my door.

The butterflies in my stomach were just starting to calm down. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this! I was on my way to Trondheim, just as my great aunt wanted. My first real adventure, in a land full of strangers.

Well, not all of them were strangers. Sven and Helmut. Damn, they were gorgeous. I guess men here were just naturally friendly. Back in the States, if men acted like that towards you, you were going to get lucky. But no one who’d ever looked like that had ever been interested in me.

There were a lot of new things I’d have to get used to. Even the money was strange: all different colors and sizes. I couldn’t wait to call June to tell her. Of course, she’d be incredibly crude if I mentioned the two guys. She’d ask if I’d pulled one of them into a coat room and made him eat my ass. Something classy like that.

My idle hands rubbed all over my stomach, one rising up to my nipples, the over working down to my aching snatch. I hadn’t had a chance to unwind like this in days, and I was twisted up tighter than a pretzel. I felt the fullness of my breast in my hand, my nipple pouty and erect inside my bra. The edges of the wire frame pressed into my chest, the pressure light but glorious. How I imagined Sven would be, on top of me, pinning me under his weight as he had his way with me.

My middle finger made tiny circles around my protruding nub. Tiny explosions of warmth shot through my core with each flick. I dipped a finger inside and smeared the hot lube all over my clit. I imagined Helmut kneeling in front of me, those golden eyes looking up at me while he tasted me.

My juices were gushing, as my head fell left and right. My breathing turned into panting as I felt my orgasm approach. I sped up my rhythm, ready for this train to come into station.

A loud knock came from the door. I froze in horror, hands on my tit and slit. For the briefest moment I was back in my bedroom at home, my mother walking in without waiting for a response.

“Hello, this is Ermine,” a thickly accented voice said from behind the door. “I am your train car concierge.”

“Hey,” I said, straightening out my clothes and standing up to open the door. I opened it and in the hallway stood an older man with a pot belly. “It’s nice to meet you Ermine. My name is Clarissa.”

With a grace that only came with decades of practice, he bowed. “Clarissa, if there is anything that you need, you need only pick up the telephone in your room and ask for Ermine.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll be sure to do that.” I closed the door and sat back down on the bench. Adrenaline was still pumping through me, my heart thundering in my chest. But the moment for relief had passed.

A quiet bell dinged in the hallway. That meant the dining car would be serving dinner now. I gave myself a once over in the body length mirror set into the closet door. I fixed my hair and walked out into the hallway.

“I’m famished,” Sven said from behind me.

I opened the interlocking doors between train cars and we stepped into the next section of the train, making our way to the dining car. “You’re always hungry. You’re going to be old and fat one day.”

“I hope so!” he said in earnest. “A wood cabin out in the forest. A new litter of grandchildren to play with in front of a roaring fireplace. A pipe and rocking chair in the evenings. I almost want to skip the next forty years and get straight to that.”

“Tell me about it. All these politics. They’re exhausting. All these ancient rules to abide by, all these expectations to live up to,” I said.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Sven said with a chuckle.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t complain. Thank you for that,” I said. He was a good man. I couldn’t have a better one by my side. But two couldn’t lead a pack. One leader meant a tyranny. Two leaders meant a stalemate. But three…three leaders meant restraint, wisdom and boldness.

“Mmm…do you smell that? Turkey with brown gravy,” he said. “Warm rolls, and pickled beets.”

We were still two sealed train cars away, but no plate of food could hide from Sven. I pulled open the door to the next car and we walked down the hallway. In front of one door I stopped dead in my tracks. My nostrils flared as I inhaled a deep scent, something primal inside of me stirring.

Sven bumped into me. “Come on Helmut. The rolls will get cold.”

I turned my head towards the door and sniffed again. This was where the girl from the ticket line was staying. I could smell the subtle bouquet of her sex through the door. She was in heat. She had a burning need to be mounted, filled by a strong male and his seed. My cock twitched in my jeans, eagerly filling to get the process underway. But she wasn’t here. No sound came from beyond the door. “Clarissa,” I whispered.

“Oh?” Sven said, turning towards the door. “Oh,” he said, his head turning slightly. I could see his pulse quicken, his carotid vein pumping faster along his neck. He met my eyes. “The chase continues,” he said, sauntering off down the hallway towards the dining car.

“Welcome to the dining car, madame,” the waiter said. His black ensemble and white gloves were impeccable. He had a thin pencil mustache and black parted hair. “Will you be joining us?”

The train car was completely empty. “Yes. Am I early?”

“No, madame. You’re simply the first!” he said with a flourish.

I giggled.

“Let me escort you to our very best table,” he said, offering his elbow.

I took it, feeling like a princess at a royal ball. Beneath us the train trundled along the tracks with a steady thrum-thrum vibration. He lead me to a table set up against a window to offer the eaters a view of the countryside.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” I said. Outside, I could see the moonlit landscape rushing past. Sleepy little hamlets, and every now and then a farmhouse with a chimney piping up smoke. A full moon blanketed the whole vista with a blueish light.

“As you say,” he said, pulling out my seat for me. “I will return with the menu.”

I’d always heard my friends in high school talk about their trips to Europe and how amazing it was. I always thought they were full of shit, but now I could see how magical it was. The kind of place where anything could happen.

The kind of place where your sails could find wind.

I heard footsteps approach from behind me, and I reached my hand back to take the menu from the waiter. My hand brushed up against thick denim, stretched taut over a prominent bulge.

I looked up and saw Helmut standing over me. Scandalously close. His gold eyes looked down at me, hotly. Locked onto me. The same feeling I had back in the ticket line came over me now. The fear of the rabbit that sees the wolf. The fear of knowing that you’ve been seen, perhaps for the first time in your life.

“Hello, Clarissa.” He said, still looking down at me.

I realized my hand had frozen in place, touching his crotch. I snapped out of it, my face burning in embarrassment, my pussy burning with excitement. “Hi Helmut,” I managed. I felt a presence on my other side. “Hi Sven,” I said without turning.

“You look lovely, Clarissa,” Sven said.

Both men took seats to either side of me. I did not invite them, but it seemed like we were past that point. I was sandwiched between these two gorgeous studs. My legs wanted to clamp shut. My legs wants to fall open. It took all my might not to squirm in my seat.

“So how have you found Norway so far?” Helmut said.

“It’s wonderful. I haven’t seen much of it yet, though. So it’s all very mysterious,” I said.

“May it continue to be so for as long as possible,” Sven said with a wink. Eyes like two gold coins that burned from the inside.

“What’s it like? Being a Shifter?” I said.

“I don’t know. It’s all we’ve ever known. What’s it like not being one?” Helmut said.

“It’s complicated,” Sven said.

“Everyone says their life is complicated. That’s a cop-out.” I said.

The two men looked at each other, puzzled. 

“Cop-out?” Helmut said.

“Like an excuse,” I said.

“I don’t make excuses,” Helmut responded. “Though what you say is fair. We live our lives with all the same responsibilities and desires as you. But on top of that we’ve also got our pack to worry about.”

“Eh, it’s just a big family,” Sven said, taking a sip of water.

“But a family that needs leadership,” Helmut said.

“What happens if your pack doesn’t have leadership?” I said.

“We descend into chaos. That’s what we’re trying to prevent,” Sven said. His smile had faded. “Clarissa, Helmut is my pack leader. He is the Alpha, the first among all of us. He comes from a proud heritage, strong blood.”

“You are too kind, friend,” Helmut responded. “Sven is my Omega, my rock of stability and reflection. As well as my Seneschal.”

“Your what?” I asked. This was all so exciting. My pulse was racing, my heart beating in my chest. Not only were these men gorgeous Shifters, they were nobility!

“A Seneschal is someone who takes on the…physical obstacles on behalf of the pack,” Sven said. He unbuttoned his sleeve and pulled it back. His black tribal tattoos ran from his wrists all the way up his arm. Deep white scars ran all over his arm. Slices of flesh missing. Deep gouges. Fang punctures.