Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
“Nope.” I stop him, I can’t stop the thought from running straight to my cunt. Of Brandon’s mouth between my legs, his tongue long and rough and so hungry. Need pulses hot through my inner walls, leaving an ache so vicious and sweet that it takes all my strength not to squirm in my seat. “I still don’t think it’s necessary, though. Unless you plan on staying long term.”
“Not planning anything yet.” He stretches back in the recliner, casually tucking his arm behind his head, thick biceps flexing. The hem of his shirt rides up a few inches above his waistband. He’s strong and packed with muscle, but not cut like a bodybuilder. His abs aren’t sharply defined. Just solid. Just strong. Just perfect. “Except figuring out what I want to do next.”
I tear my gaze from his stomach. “You don’t have any idea?”
“A few ideas. Thinking of taking up farming.”
“Taking it up? So you’d just pick up a hoe and a few acres and start— Nope, nope.” That one was my fault. I made it too easy. “You’re welcome to take up this farm. It hasn’t made money since my grandpa lived here, and not much then. But you can pour cash into it if you like.”
“Maybe I will.”
I don’t take his reply any more seriously than my offer was. Though if he really meant it, I would let him lease the fields, do whatever he liked out there. I could easily see him as a farmer tending to the land…and me noping all his references to hoeing and plowing and sowing seed.
It’s almost enough to make me wish for it. Except the only way he’d ever stay on the farm is if we remained friends. And if we’re only friends, one day he’ll fall in love with someone, marry her, plow her, sow his seed and make berserker babies. So sooner or later, he’ll go.
Probably sooner.
“You could buy a bee farm,” I suggest, ignoring the claw gouging into my chest at the thought of him falling in love and leaving. “Then you can have all the honey you like.”
He shakes his head. “Then I’d have to sell it. I don’t have the temperament to share my honey with anyone. Maybe I’ll join a fire crew.”
“And use your superpowers?” As he already had once this year, when a forest fire broke out in the hills not far from our place. Berserkers and werewolves are impervious to flames and heat, so he and Ranger and Alicia were right in the thick of it, being heroes—and starting a whole slew of reports about Bigfoot being seen in the area.
“They aren’t super to me. Just normal.”
I roll my eyes. After hearing him share the joy of his abilities with Alicia, I know damn well how much he loves being a bear, along with the superhearing and strength and speed all the other gifts that come with it. And sure, he grew up with those powers, so they are normal to him. But he’s well aware of how super they are.
“If you want to see what part of me is really super, you just need to—”
“Nope.”
Again with the grin that makes my pussy clench. I’m just glad nobody’s superhearing is good enough to hear that. Or the sound of panties getting damp. Because if he knew, there’s no freaking way that—
Oh shit.
Oh shit oh fuck oh shit.
Trying to be casual about it, as if my heart’s not racing and my face isn’t burning, I ask, “Do bears have that supersmell thing, too?”
Alicia does, though she doesn’t know what every odor is. But she’s new to this…and a bear who was born with a nose like hers would have had a lifetime to figure out what all those scents meant.
“Yeah, I do.”
I still play it cool. “That sucks for you.”
“Does it?”
“People can be disgusting.”
“Some are. But that’s just how life smells, so we get good at ignoring those odors. Especially since there’s so many other scents that are much more interesting.” Gaze narrowed, he watches me for a long second. “I’m not a dancing bear, Samantha Green. So stop spinning around whatever it is you want to ask.”
All right, then. “Can you smell me?”
“Yeah, I can.”
“I don’t mean my sweat or my shampoo—can you smell what I’m feeling?”
His eyes take on that amber glow. “I know what you meant. And yeah, I can.”
So Brandon knows exactly how he’s been pushing my buttons. Maybe from the beginning. I don’t know how to feel about that. Except that it also feels as if an emotional bulletproof vest has been ripped away from my chest.
Maybe Brandon smells that, too. Because he sits up, feet flat on the porch, and looks me square in the face. “I know better than anyone that what a body wants and what a brain chooses are two different things. And like you said…you get excited over a bendy straw. So I’m not taking any scent as some kind of declaration or invitation unless I hear it from your mouth. You’ve been real clear you only want to be friends.”