Timberman Werebear (Saw Bears Book 3) (7 page)

Kellen frowned. “Is that a thing? Do blow jobs bring good luck?”

“Uh oh,” Haydan said, rubbing his bald head, then leaning back on his locked elbows. “Skyler’s got some work to do now.”

“Shut up,” Skyler said with a laugh. “No, babe. It doesn’t bring good luck. It’s just fun. You won’t need my magic blow jobs to secure our spot in the relay.”

“What’s the relay?” Danielle asked.

Tagan draped his arm over Brooke’s shoulders and answered. “The top two teams get to participate in the relay. The entire crew will each have a job, and the team who completes all the tasks first wins. If Kellen, Brighton, and Denison make good enough times on the Springboard Chop to qualify, we’ll be able to compete against the other team in a relay of the events we’ve been doing all day. Winner takes home the trophy and a cash prize.”

“And a pygmy goat!” Brooke squealed. She balled her fists and shook them in front of her like she couldn’t contain her excitement.

Danielle’s eyes went wide. “A goat? A real goat? Like a tiny, furry, cute, little goat?”

“Hey, good news for you, Denison,” Bruiser said with a smirk. “Your mate loves animals.”

“Shut up, man.” Denison chucked a strawberry at his head, but he caught it in his mouth, the wanker.

“I’m your mate?” Danielle asked.

Aw, fuck it. “Yeah. That’s what you are to me. I wanted to talk to you about it later, but these rats keep bringing it up, so yeah.” His cheeks were burning like he was a schoolboy with a crush right now.

Danielle leaned back, letting those chocolate-colored eyes go all hooded and sexy. “Are you calling me your girlfriend, Denny?”

“Denny!” the boys called out in feminine voices, among catcalls and whistles.

“Nah,” he said, heat rushing into his cheeks. He was going to kill the guys for this. “You’re more.”

The smile fell from her face, and he looked away before he could see the rejection in her expression.

In a move that shocked him to his core, Danielle leaned against him and murmured, “Good.” Then she pulled his knuckles to her lips and kissed them.

More shit from the guys rang out, but what did he care? His girl was grinning like he’d just made her day by locking down their relationship status.

An announcer on a bullhorn urged the Springboard Chop contestants to make their way to the logs set up in the middle of the grounds.

“You want that goat?” he asked against Danielle’s ear, then nibbled it just for the excuse to feel that tender skin between his teeth.

Danielle nodded and blinked slowly, like his attention had made her drunk. God, he loved her sexy reactions to him.

“We’re gonna get you girls that goat,” he promised. “Kellen, Brighton, let’s do this.”

“Here we go,” Tagan said, clapping.

Denison helped Danielle up, and she fed him her last grape, then dusted off the backside of her jeans. He gave that cute ass a squeeze and grazed his teeth against her neck. She shuddered, and he chuckled low. Oh, the ways he was going to make her say his name tonight. She’d been tormenting him all day in those tight jeans and being all cute as hell with her tiny kisses.

He slung his arms around Danielle and Brighton, caught between his two favorite people in the world as they made their way to the next event. Brighton was practically humming with pent up energy that would be expelled through the five pound ax they were about to batter the logs with. This event was the most physically grueling, and Kellen had already removed his shirt and handed it to Skyler. Brighton’s team shirt went next, and Denison blew out his nerves in a puff of breath and reached over his head, then pulled the fabric away from his body.

Danielle’s eyes went straight for the tribal tattoo on his arm, and he grinned.

“Is that…” She looked up at him with such heartbreaking hope in her dark eyes. “Is that a badger?”

His grin stretched farther. He leaned down and kissed her lips. They tasted like sweet, ripe strawberries. “Maybe,” he teased, then draped his shirt over her shoulder and jogged off without looking back.

That tattoo. Oh Mylanta, that tattoo!

Tribal symbols covered Denison’s left pec and flowed into abstract shapes that formed what definitely looked like a fearsome badger on his shoulder.

Brighton stalled, smiling at her with his head cocked. He leaned forward, close to her ear. Close enough for her to hear his struggling whisper. “You’ve always been his.”

Chills rippled up her forearms as he turned and walked away. Skyler and Brooke looked at her like she’d grown a floppy dong out of her forehead.

“Uuuh,” Brooke said. “Did Brighton just talk to you?”

“Does he not talk to you?”

“Nope,” Skyler said, shaking her head for emphasis. “That man hasn’t talked to anyone since I moved to the trailer park.”

“Oh.” She watched Brighton’s receding back. He was covered in curious scars, all perfectly straight from his spine to his side like tiger stripes, and aligned in rows like he’d been deliberately cut for decoration. “Maybe he talks to me because I’m Denison’s girlfriend…er, mate.”

“Maybe,” Brooke said, following the others. Over her shoulder she said, “But I haven’t seen him talk to Denison either.”

Holy shit. Well, that was a revelation. Danielle suddenly felt honored that Brighton had chosen to share that whisper with her. He always swallowed hard after he said something, as if it hurt to make that much effort to push air particles past his vocal chords. But he’d still done it…for her.

The brothers climbed nimbly up onto springboards suspended halfway up the tall, vertical chopping logs, high up in the air. The boards bounced under them as they tested their balance. Kellen climbed up beside one of the Gray Back competitors and lifted his lip in a snarl.

Denison hadn’t spared a glance at the Gray Back competitors until he was finished with each event. But right now, tension rolled off his shoulders when Matt took the log right next to him and stared at him with an obnoxious, empty smile on his lips.

“Come on, Denison,” she said, clapping and hoping to hold his attention away from Matt’s whispered taunts.

Brighton crouched down on his springboard, ax held out for balance like he was going to tackle Denison any second. It was the eyes. Denny was seething, the fury lightening his eyes to a snow white color.

Tagan was standing closer to his competitors and called out something sharp to Denison, but she couldn’t understand what he said.

Denison’s lips pulled away from his teeth as he pulled the ax out of his stump and turned his attention toward Matt.

Matt was already bending at the knees, like he was ready to brawl and get disqualified too, right here in front of everyone.

Aw, shit pills. “Denny!” she yelled.

He turned slowly as the announcer asked if the contestants were ready.

Danielle gave him a glare and angled her chin. “I want that goat, Denny.”

He stared at her, and for a moment, she thought he couldn’t understand the words she was saying anymore. Maybe he was too far gone. But when that whistle blew, Denny angled his body and sank the ax deep into the flesh of the log he was balanced on. Brighton spared one look of gratitude to her, then twisted his body with the blow of his ax. Rhythmic
chop, chop, chopping
filled the entire area, and the onlookers surged forward, crowding around this final event before the relay.

Boarlanders, Gray Backs, and Ashe Crew competitors were causing heavy damage to the logs, but Danielle found it hard to look away from Denny. His arms and torso flexed with each blow he sent shuddering through the log. His eight-pack rippled as he pulled the ax back out and swung in a graceful arch again. Full determination took his face as he set his stormy silver eyes on the task of demolishing the thick log with his ax blade.

The cheers from the crowd were deafening, drowning out the sound of the axes sinking into the splintering wood. Danielle was bumped and pushed forward, but she didn’t care. Denison was beautiful, powerful…lethal. She’d never seen this side of him. It wasn’t the sweet side or the protective side. This was fierce competitiveness and acute focus. The same hands that could pluck the most beautiful notes out of a guitar were gripping an ax and doing serious damage with each swing. His springboard bounced as he found his rhythm.

It was so close, she almost couldn’t watch. She couldn’t tell who was winning. Brighton, Denny, and Kellen looked to be neck and neck with the other crews. Onlookers were starting to chant the names of their favorite crews, and she joined in.

“Ashe Crew, Ashe Crew!”

Great goodness, she was proud of these boys. Skyler was jumping up and down beside her, chanting for Kellen, and Danielle couldn’t stop the excitement that bubbled out of her throat as the boys got closer and closer to chopping through the wood. She chanted louder with the crowd and squeezed Skyler’s hand as they jumped together.

Denison gave one last powerful swing and his log buckled, then the top half caved. Kellen’s went a split second later, followed by Matt’s, then Brighton’s. The onlookers were going wild around them, and she and Skyler faced each other and screamed elatedly.

They’d done it. They’d qualified for the relay.

The announcer called it, and Denison jumped from his springboard like he couldn’t get away from Matt fast enough. As he weaved through the crowd, Danielle bolted for him. He crushed her to his chest as soon as he reached her and buried his face against her neck.

“I need a minute. I need a minute,” he said low, over and over again.

Aw, crap. Danielle gave Skyler a helpless look and guided him through the crowd. Where were his sunglasses? She couldn’t remember where he’d put them. Maybe they were still in the cup holder on top of the cooler near the lake.

The onlookers clapped Denison on the back as they passed, and his body vibrated with the reverberating congratulatory hits.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” she murmured.

As soon as they were free of the masses, she turned and pulled him toward the tents. An alleyway would be ideal, but just as she found one without anyone in it, she spied something even better. A dressing tent for the contestants had been erected. She dashed inside, but only one man remained in there, shirt off and texting on his phone from a bench against the white canvas wall.

“Out,” she ordered.

The man looked up, then his eyes darted to Denison behind her, who was shifting his weight from side to side, looking down.

“Is he hurt?” Texty Fingers asked.

“He’ll be fine.” She jerked her chin toward the door. Hint, hint.

The man grabbed a gym back and rushed out the opening. Danielle tied the three cords that sealed the tent flaps closed and turned just in time to catch Denison’s hug. He lifted her off her feet and squeezed until she struggled to draw breath. She was finding it really hard to complain right now, though, because Denison was emitting a low rumble that lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

“Shhh.” Draping her arms around his neck, she squeezed him and laid kisses across his forehead.

The scruff of his short beard brushed against her shirt, and her skin warmed as he exhaled a breath against the fabric.

“I can’t stop…I can’t,” he murmured, not making any sense.

Whatever was happening was bad, and she didn’t know what to do to help him.

Desperately, she lifted his chin to plead with him. His eyes were feral and reflected oddly in the dim light like an animal’s. Unthinking, she lowered her mouth and brushed her tongue against his. He opened for her and cupped the back of her head. His kiss became urgent and needy, and suddenly, she was burning from the inside out. Whatever he was doing, whatever he was pulling from her, pooled instant wetness between her legs. It was instinctive, the need to be with him, something deep within her she was helpless to stop.

“Denny, please,” she begged. Please what? She didn’t know.

“Can you be quiet?” he asked. “I’ll take care of you. Can you keep quiet if I touch you?”

“Yes,” she lied.

He set her on her feet and yanked at the fly of her jeans, then shoved his hand into her panties and cupped her sex. She moaned as he slid his finger inside of her and pressed his palm against her clit. His kisses were hard, swallowing the sound.

His heartbeat raced under her hand as she rubbed the smooth skin there, and his nipple drew up into a tight bud under her touch. A delicious shiver began at the base of her tailbone and zinged up her spine until it landed in her shoulders. She loved Denny like this. Wild, barely in control, slits of snowy color every time he barely opened his eyes.

Encircling her waist with his arm, he pressed his finger into her harder and sped up the pace. She was already gone, floating to pieces, held together only by Denny’s embrace. She didn’t realize she was the one making the gasping sound until he shushed her softly and filled her mouth with his tongue, taking away her voice.

His bicep flexed with each stroke into her, and she tossed her head back as he drew an orgasm from her. Her body clenched around his finger over and over as waves of pleasure washed through her.

Denison let out a trembling sigh that sounded nothing shy of relieved, and he relaxed his hold around her hips. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were gray once more. Still too light to be completely human, but closer to his own color.

“I’m sorry,” he said on a breath.

“Don’t ever apologize for that. You just shared more of yourself with me than you ever have,” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his.

He pulled his hand from between her legs and buttoned her carefully, then took his time making sure her shirt was straight and the hem perfect. He was stalling, and she smiled at how endearing it was.

“Are you ready to go back out there now?” she asked.

“Geez, Badger. You really want that goat, don’t you?”

“I want the Ashe Crew to win this.”

Amusement pooled in the soft color of his eyes as he searched her face. “That’s my girl.”