Bearly Hanging On (A Werebear Shifter BBW Romance) (Laid Bear Book 3) (3 page)

It took her a good minute to catch her breath and calm down. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

What was she going on about? Remember her from where? He’d been in this Godforsaken place for two weeks and hadn’t been allowed to meet a single human. Where did she imagine they’d met?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re starting to piss me off. I’m gonna bolt.” His chair screeched as he stood and scanned the crowd for a friendlier face. He didn’t have to put up with this shit. There were plenty of cute girls here that would kill to do the nasty with him.

“Aw, don’t leave, Tubbs,” she said, tugging at his sleeve and sniffing back tears of glee. “I was only yankin’ your chain.”

Recognition crashed down on him and left him gaping at the girl. It couldn’t be her, could it? She was all punked out on the ferry and this girl looked suspiciously like a Valley Girl-wannabe. Regardless, his bear certainly knew who she was; it didn’t matter that her hair wasn’t blue anymore. So that’s why it had been practically frothing at the mouth the moment he laid eyes on her.
 

“Sit down, Tubbs.” She slipped her foot between his legs, tucked the tip of her pink flat under the bottom rung of his chair and pulled it forward until it butted into his calves. It was a strangely sensual act that aroused him to an almost-embarrassing point. To hide the evidence, he dropped into his chair and casually arranged his jacket over his lap. The fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off her teasing smile didn’t help matters any.

“Tubbs?” asked one of the other girls — Tiffany, if he remembered correctly — reaching out to touch his arm. “He looks more like Crockett to me.”

Crystal flashed a dark look at the girl, baring her teeth slightly. “Hands off, skank.”

All the girls at the table gasped. “Listen, freak,” said the one on the other side of Chet. Becky, was it? “We only invited you to come with us because we felt sorry for you. The least you could do is not be a total bitch.”

Crystal glared at Becky. “Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true,” added Michelle. “You were such a spazzed-out ho-bag loser when you got here that we decided to do a good deed and take you on as a project. Honestly, I think we deserve a merit badge or something. I mean, look at you. You look, like…
normal.
”

Chet was amused at the death glare Crystal fired at Michelle…all the girls, really. A vein in her forehead started pulsing in an alarming fashion, threatening to burst. She carefully placed her palms flat on the table and leaned forward, as if she was about to lunge across it and devour every one of them. “Bite me, bitch!”

It wasn’t unusual for girls to fight over Chet. Normally, he’d sit back and enjoy the show but the moment Tiffany buried her fingers in Crystal’s hair and started pulling, he reacted on instinct.
 

Wrapping his big fingers tightly around her wrist, he growled, “Let go…
now!”

Tiffany squealed in mock-pain and released Crystal, falling back into her seat clutching her arm to her chest. “You hurt me! Look what you did!”

She thrust her arm out so everyone could inspect the damage but it was barely even pink. Still, the other girls gasped in dismay, fawning over Tiffany like her arm had been pulled out of the socket. Quite honestly, she was lucky as hell that didn’t happen because Chet’s bear was pissed off that she attacked Crystal, and it was hard to control when it was feeling protective.

“What’s going on over here?” asked a portly older man wearing a sauce-stained apron. Paulie, no doubt.
 

The four girls started talking at once, claiming all sorts of ridiculous things, their voices rising to such a pitch that only dogs could hear them. Paulie looked at Chet for help translating. “What are they saying?”

Chet adopted his most nonchalant, cool dude manner and shrugged. “My girlfriend here got lippy with them and they attacked her. I separated them and now they’re crying wolf. Girls!” He rolled his eyes for emphasis.

No doubt having seen hundreds of such fights over the years, Paulie nodded soberly. “Well, we don’t go for none o’ that shit here. You can’t behave like nice girls, take it outside or I’ll call the cops.”

“No, man. My girl and I were just leaving. We’ll let the ladies stay and enjoy their pizza. In fact, why don’t you bring them a round of dipping sticks, courtesy of Ulysses S. Grant?” He thrust a fifty at Paulie, who looked shocked for a moment, then grinned from ear to ear.

“You bet, Mr. Grant!” Without another word or a second glance back, he scurried off to the kitchen, leaving the kids to work out their troubles on their own.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, ladies,” Chet said, pulling a still-fuming Crystal up by the elbow, “I think I’ll have my date show me around town.”

“Eat shit and die, poser,” one of them muttered as he ushered Crystal outside.
 

Strangely, it didn’t bother him. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought of him. Being alone with Crystal was all he cared about at the moment, the only thing that mattered. He wasn’t sure when, but at some point during the last ten minutes, he’d become completely infatuated with this little spitfire, and nothing was going to stop him from having her.

As soon as they stepped outside, she pulled free from his grip and rounded on him. “You should have let me kick their asses!”

“Um, there were four of them, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“So? I know how to take care of myself, ya know!”

“Hey, I believe you. I also believe that Paulie, or whoever that dude was, would have called the cops and you’d have spent the night in jail…instead of spending it with me.”

~ * ~ * ~

Crystal couldn’t believe her ears. This yuppie scum was actually propositioning her, right in front of the pizza joint! Sure, he was cute. And, yeah, she’d totally been flirting with him, but damn! He was ballsy. Besides, she was really hacked off at those bitches inside.

“Listen, Tubbs—“

“Chet. My name’s Chet.”

She waved away his correction. “Whatever. Listen—“

“And she was right, you know. Tiffany? I was really going for Crockett’s look.”

Was he grinning at her? He should be mortified to admit that!
 

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?”

He twisted at his lips and threw away the key. Then crossed his heart. And then held up the Boy Scout pledge sign. And grinned. Damn that grin! It did funny things to her insides. Things no self-respecting punk would ever allow.

As much as she wanted to stay irritated, her lips twitched in response.
No! You’re mad, remember?
But he was so cute, standing there like the Boy Scout she knew damn well he wasn’t.
 

When he cupped his hands to his ears and waggled them like an elephant, she lost control. The next thing she knew, she was pulling him by the lapels down to her level. The heat of his gaze warmed her skin, sending tingles to places she hadn’t paid attention to for far too long.

“You have no idea how sexy it is when a guy impersonates a pachyderm,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.
 

“You like animals, huh? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” His voice was husky with desire. Then he claimed her lips.
 

Their movements were clumsy at first, almost frantic in their need. All hands and mouths, trying to consume the other
right now
rather than a slow, sumptuous banquet. But sometimes you were simply starving and had to have it all as fast as possible.

And she wanted it all.

Her fingers fisted in the baggy fabric of his jacket, tugging at it, pulling him closer, though they were about as close as they could get with their clothes on. His big hands roamed her form, skimming her hips around to the back to claim her ass and pull her tight against his hard bulge.

Taking her face in his hands, he pulled just far enough away from her so his breath tickled her lips, stilling her frantic movements. Slowly, interminably, he slicked the very tip of his tongue across her upper lip, ending with the lightest of kisses at the corner. He repeated the process on her lower lip, drawing a sigh of delight from her.
 

Her fingers unclenched and rested lightly on his shoulders as his lips grazed across one cheek before nuzzling into her hair. The hot breath puffing into her ear made all the sensitive parts of her tighten up and scream for more.
 

Always more.
 

She couldn’t help moaning just a little. Her ear and neck had always been very receptive to a guy’s touch, and this wasn’t just any guy. He knew exactly how to send electric shots throughout her body, and she wanted him to never stop.

Twining her arms around his neck, she buried her fingers in his hair and held him where he was, much like what he’d done moments before. That put him at the perfect angle for her to explore his ear with her tongue, lightly flicking at his lobe and letting her breath trickle across his ear. The boy needed to learn that she could give as good as she got.

His response was immediate and rather loud.
Was that a growl?
she wondered, pleased that she’d brought out the animal in him. She’d never made a guy make growly noises before, but she wanted to do it again. And again.

Unlocking her arms, she let her hands slide down his chest, reveling in the hard definition beneath the thin t-shirt he wore. Skin. She wanted skin, not cotton.
 

Her fingers had just reached his waistband to pull his shirt out when the sound of a crowd of kids bursting out of Paulie’s brought them back to reality. It took all of her strength to pull away from him, now that she’d had a taste of him, but it wouldn’t do to be caught sucking face in front of the pizza place. Her grandparents would have a cow, first of all.
 

Second of all, for some reason, she really liked this guy. He wasn’t her type at all — the preppy poser guy — but he had a quality. No, that quality wasn’t that he was hot — or wasn’t
just
because of that. It was something deeper. She sensed it the moment she saw him boarding the ferry. There was more to him than he let on, and she was going to find out what it was.

“Wanna get out of here?” she panted, leaning her forehead into his.
 

A shudder rippled through him. It didn’t take much imagination to see that he was barely holding himself back from tearing her clothes off. That would
really
freak out her grandparents!

“Fuckin-A!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me,” Crystal teased.

They were in the elementary school’s playground, sitting on the swings and talking. Chet didn’t have much experience talking with girls. Oh, he had plenty of experience
with
girls, but there was rarely any talking going on. Nothing of substance, anyway.

Crystal was different. She’d led him to the school, which was next door to Paulie’s, and wedged her delicious ass into one of the small rubber seats, setting up a boundary. It wasn’t like he could climb on top of her, as much as he might want to, so he settled for the swing next to her. He hadn’t been on a playground since he was a cub, but decided it was retro enough to be cool.

“What? You have to admit that you don’t look the same as on the ferry. What happened to you?”

She shrugged and pumped her legs. “My mom happened.”

Chet kept his mouth shut for once and let her think. She was fascinating, with her chameleon act and smart mouth, and he wanted to know more about her. Everything, in fact. He wondered if this was the feeling
weres
got when they found their fated mate, the one person they could bond with forever.

“She said I was hanging with the wrong crowd back home — which is ironic since she has a revolving cast of shit-heel boyfriends and husbands. She said I needed to go back to my roots, see what the ‘real world’ was all about.” Crystal rolled her eyes while she air-quoted ‘real world’. “So she sent me here, to my grandparents, for the summer. They made me promise to behave, and it would kill me to disappoint them, so I started dressing like the other girls in town. And for the record, I hate it.”

The silence dragged between them like a rope, keeping them connected as they swung. “Where’s home?”

“Seattle.”

“Seattle seems pretty real compared to L.A.” He didn’t need his mother or anyone else to tell him that L.A. was about as far from the ‘real world’ as it got. Fake smiles, fake tits, fake people. If Crystal’s mom thought Seattle was bad…

“Yeah, well…anyway. I was pretty pissed off at first. I mean, I’m eighteen, for fuck’s sake! She couldn’t tell me what to do. I just graduated with honors, too. Didn’t seem like I was screwing up too bad. She hates my friends, though. Thought I was going to end up a loser burn-out or something. I dunno, maybe she was right. Some of my friends are real assholes.”

Chet laughed. “You, too? You should meet some of my crowd. I wouldn’t trust a single one of them as far as I could throw them. They only care about their image, and what others can do for them. At school, they’d be complete dickwads to the burners and druggies, but then they’d be snorting lines in the john.”

“And these are your friends?”
 

She looked at him like she couldn’t figure out why he associated with jerks like that. Suddenly, he was wondering the same thing.

“Like I’m one to talk,” she snorted in disgust. “My friends are just as bad. They totally bag on the richies every chance they get.”

Shoving her legs into the ground, she skidded herself to a dead stop and turned a shocked look on Chet. “Jesus, Tubbs, you know what’s happened to us?”

“Chet,” he corrected. “What?” he asked, skidding to a halt as well.

“We’ve been magically transported into a fucking John Hughes movie!”

That was too funny! “Haha! Who am I? Please, don’t tell me I’m Blane. I’m fucking Blane, aren’t I? Oh, shit!”
 

He could hardly breathe from laughing so hard. This girl was something else, like no one he’d ever met before. The girls back home were cardboard cutouts. They all looked exactly the same because they all went to the same salons to get their hair dyed blond, the same plastic surgeons to straighten their noses, the same clothing stores so they looked fashionable, and the same parties so everyone could gawk at their ‘beauty’.