Bear Fursuits Books 1-5 Bundle (BBW/Bearshifter Romance)

By Isadora Montrose

Romance, Paranormal

eBook

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711
6 mins

Will Woos His Runaway Mate

What readers are saying on Amazon about Bear Fursuits Books 1-5:
“She hit my top five authors! Excellent read.”
“Great book from start to finish…”

From BEAR POSSIBILITIES
“When was the last time you were in bear form?” Will asked Martha on Friday afternoon as they walked in the clearing beyond his cabin. For the thousandth time he blessed Mary Deer. The little bear had been excited to spend the weekend learning basket weaving and running after three little girls.

“I don’t know,” Martha said. “I don’t have time for that kind of foolishness.”

“Your bear isn’t some sort of luxury, sweetheart. It’s an essential part of you.” Will took Martha’s hand and pulled her out of the path of what looked like poison ivy. Poison ivy took a variety of shapes, and you couldn’t be too careful. “You have to feed your bear so it’s there for you when you need it.”

“And that would be never.” Martha was dismissive.

For a member of the Ancestral Bear Clan, living in one of the few communities where shifters were honored, not feared, Martha was awfully disparaging about being a shifter. Not good.

“It’s kept me alive on many a mission,” Will said tranquilly.

“Really?"

“Sure. I listen to my bear if something seems the least little bit wrong. And I can usually read people and sense if they’re lying or trustworthy. I would never ignore my bear instincts. They’re part of my arsenal.”

“Well I don’t get into fights. I don’t have much use for animal instincts. Human senses are quite sufficient.” To Will’s ears, Martha sounded primly defensive as well as disgusted.

“Hmm.” This was no time to argue. He led her around a stand of trees to the little lake that gave Crane Lake Resort its name. Four wooden loungers were laid out in a short row on the neatly trimmed grass. The water lapped gently on a shore made up of small, glossy yellow pebbles. The marsh land on the far shore hummed with wild birds.

“Oh,” Martha exclaimed. “Look at that duck. Do you know what kind it is? I haven’t ever seen a duck with so many colors!”

“City girl,” said Will fondly. “It’s a Mandarin drake. Do you see the charcoal grey job with the white spots on the edges of its white breast?” He pointed. “That’s his mate.”

“She’s pretty too. But not so flashy, except she has these little blue feathers near her tail.”

“Very pretty,” he said indulgently. But he was looking at Martha.

“Why didn’t I know this existed?”

“That I don’t know, sweetheart.” Will ignored the loungers, which seemed hard and narrow to him, and drew Martha down onto the clean, sweet smelling grass. He took her weight with his chest and felt her relax as the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees seeped into her. It was becoming obvious that this Martha had even less time for nonsense than the old one.

He inhaled the delicate scent behind her ear. She smelled wonderful. Of course she did. She was his mate. But she should have been vibrating with lust out here in June. Her scent should be making him wild instead of contented. He would take contentment after four years without her, but it wasn’t right. He had to get her turned on to her inner bear.

She gave him an opening. “Tell me about my sister,” she begged.

“Well I just met Hannah, but she seems really smart and kind and fertile.” He chuckled.

“Fertile! Does she have kids? Do I have nieces and nephews?” She was excited.

“Not yet. But she and Jack had themselves an itty bitty reunion before his leave got canceled. And by the time Mom and I got hold of her and brought her back to Hanover, she was pregnant.” He laughed. “You should have seen her face when Mom told her how delighted she was to be already a grandma.”

“How did your mother know?” Martha sounded honestly bewildered.

“The same way I knew. She smelled pregnant. Same way I know you’re not in season even though it’s June.”

“Women don’t have seasons!”

“Bears do. And you Martha, my darling, are not even the littlest bit aroused.” He nuzzled her neck. “Seems a shame.” He turned her slightly and kissed her tenderly, sweeping his tongue delicately around her mouth and sampling the delicate tissues under her tongue.

Martha kissed him back, but her temperature didn’t rise and her scent didn’t change in response to his. He sighed and pulled away. He kissed her cheek and pulled her back against his chest, enjoying the weight of her breasts on his linked forearms.

“I don’t know what you want,” she said crossly.

“Passion. Joy. Delight. But I can wait.” He kissed the back of her neck and moved a hand to pull pins out of her bun.

She clutched his hand defensively. “Stop that, it’ll just explode.”

“I love your hair. I love it when it’s tousled. I love it when it’s flat ironed. Exploding curls sound good. I want to run my fingers through it.” He unwound the heavy rope and loosened it. True to her prediction it sprang into a frizzy mass. He dug his fingers gently through it and separated the curls, tickling her scalp and the nape of her neck until she relaxed and sank into his body.

He looked around him. The clearing was as empty as it had been for the last three days. “Let’s go swimming.”

“I don’t have a suit.” Martha sounded horrified.

“No one here but us bears.” Will stood up and began to unbutton his blue and white shirt. He removed it and stood bare chested in the breeze. His pecs and biceps bulged. His black chest hair curled around his dog tags and petered out around the bottom of his ribs into a lush trail that disappeared into his jeans.

He sat on the grass and untied his sneakers and took off his socks. He didn’t look at her. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” He stood up barefooted. His feet were as long and muscular as she remembered. His hands went to his belt and unbuckled it. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper.

Reluctantly, Martha pulled her sandals off and took off her jeans. She removed her panties and tucked them under the jeans. Why had she put on that frayed and faded pair of granny panties this morning? Suddenly he was there naked. His big muscular hands were on her tee-shirt pulling it over her head. He fondled the skin of her belly and bottom before undoing her bra strap. He pulled it off her breasts and tossed it on top of the baggy tee-shirt. It coiled like a lax grey snake.

He took her hand and drew her down to the edge of the water. When she balked at the feel of the stony shore he scooped her into his arms and walked out into the lake carrying her. The sun had warmed the shallow area near the shore and when he sat down with her they plunged into a tepid bath. She squealed a little anyway and he kissed the top of her head.

She was sitting pressed against his fully erect manhood. She could feel every inch of its broad barrel and hard length on her bottom. He rubbed her in a gentle circle. “This isn’t much like swimming,” she objected.

“No it’s not,” he growled. And took bear form so suddenly she backed away in fright. He clicked reassuringly at her and she stood still. He turned and began to swim into the deep water. He dove and came up in a joyful gush of water. He made louder clicks.

Martha felt foolish standing nude in the lake while Will frolicked and ogled her. She dove into the water and tried to see the bottom, but there was too much silt. Fishes swam by and without thought she put out a great paw and caught one. The big male beside her grunted in a friendly fashion and dove deep, coming up by the ducks. They scattered in a great flurry and he executed a somersault and came back to her side.

He butted her gently with his head on her neck and backed off. Martha ate her fish as if it was the most delicious meal of her life. The mandarin duck that had seemed so colorful before had faded to dull, but she could smell the difference between the male and the female more clearly than she had seen their contrasting plumage with her human eyes. Far away she heard the sound of a red cockaded woodpecker digging a nest cavity as the most delightful drumming. The world seemed full of wonder.

Will dove again and came up a hundred yards away. He did a barrel roll and surfaced with a rush of water. Martha didn’t think, she just followed him into deeper water. He chased her and tapped her gently on her rear and took off with a thrust of mighty hind legs. Martha gave chase, tunneling through the water as though she had played this game a hundred times. Eventually her mate let her catch him.

Will circled her lazily, turning somersaults. He poked her gently on the snout with his nose. He smelled wonderful too. Earthy. Male. Desirable. Martha felt flooded with femininity. Powerful. Desirable. Fertile. That thought was enough to end her idyll. She raced back toward the shore, leaving her mate following with a leisurely breaststroke.

Martha took human form as soon as she emerged from the water and scrambled to put her clothes on over her soaking flesh. The fabric stuck and bunched and when she was dressed, her clothes were damp and clinging. Will’s bear emerged from the lake and shook mightily. Water flew in every direction, but when he took human form he was barely damp.

He put his clothes on much more collectedly. Then he came for her. He picked her up and held her high and tight against his chest. He was breathing hard as if he had run a mile. And it wasn’t from the exertion of picking her up. She could smell arousal coming off him in waves of heat. It made something long dormant in her ignite.

“I can’t get pregnant,” she warned.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised throatily. He had brought the biggest box of condoms he could find in the drugstore at the Seattle Airport. Of course, he had hoped to need them but not to use them. But his mate had some issues to deal with before they got to baby making.

Swiftly he strode toward his cabin, his precious burden pure joy to hold. He started to undress her in the living room despite her protests. “The bed’s too big, or the room’s too small. There’s no place to stand in the bedroom.” His big hands pulled at her soaking tee-shirt and pulled it over her dripping hair. He unfastened her ugly bra and tossed it on the couch. He bent and reverently kissed both nipples.

“Oh, boy,” he breathed huskily. “You are so beautiful.” He undid her jeans and as she kicked her sandals off, he pulled her wet jeans down over her thighs and knees, kneeling to wrestle the damp denim free of her legs. He blew hot breath on her and breathed in her scent with a growl. He gave her a little push toward the bathroom.

Martha scuttled into the tiny room. A minute sink and a small metal shower stall faced a commode. She looked at her reflection in the stained mirror in horror. Her hair was alive. Will’s comb was designed to smooth his close cropped hair but didn’t make a dent in hers. She combed her fingers through the tangles and blushed. What had got into her, to shift? She looked down and then in the mirror again. Her nipples jutted out bright red and ready. She could smell her own arousal.

In the living room Will removed his clothes and folded them. He tidied Martha’s too, frowning in exasperation at her aged underwear. Before her pretties had enchanted him with their sheer lace panels and soft colors. He couldn’t figure if she was mortifying her flesh with these sad underthings, or if she could only afford stuff that didn’t flatter. Easy enough to fix, and in the meantime he could put them under that baggy tee-shirt where they wouldn’t embarrass her.

She came shyly out of the bathroom and he greeted her with his ardently aroused body, scooping her up again and taking her into the bedroom. He tossed her gently onto the king-sized mattress and she bounced and laughed as she looked around. “How did they get it in here?”

“I don’t know. I think they may have built the cabin around it.” Will chuckled. “At least it’s big enough for two bears.” He pulled her into his arms and feasted on her bosoms, laving the lush globes with his eager tongue. He sucked the tender, distended nipples into his mouth and suckled them until his mate was moaning beneath him and the scent of her was a heavy perfume in his nostrils.



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