Page 22 of Bear with Me

“Any reason why the two of you are yelling at each other in Jensen’s office?” Matheus asked as he walked in. “I thought you’d kissed and made up?” He paused, inhaling deeply.

“We haven’t mated,” Jemma snapped, her temper still high as far as Brock could tell. Damn if it didn’t ignite his own.

“Yet,” he snarled.

Matheus laughed. “The two of you are fun to watch.”

“I thought you said he was the peacekeeper?” Jemma crossed her arms over her chest, glaring between Brock and his brother now.

“I doubt a saint could keep the peace between you two,” Matheus said with a smile. “Anyway, I came to take over watch for a bit. Jensen is actually resting, and Jemma, you should, too. Both of you.”

“I like that plan,” Brock agreed, then before Jemma could say anything, he had her over his shoulder and was striding through the door.

“Put me down!” she screamed, drawing the attention of everyone they passed with her thrashing and yelling.

Brock ignored her tantrum and the looks. He held Jemma in place and headed toward the cabin he’d prepared earlier. The one he’d intended to talk her into going to when he’d found her. Matheus had known exactly what he was doing, which was probably why he’d shown up and made the suggestion Jemma needed rest, too. Brock shoved into the cabin, closing and locking the door behind them, before tossing her onto the bed and following her down.

“Settle down,” he ordered when she swung at him.

“I told you to put me down.”

“I did.” He pressed her into the bed with his bulk, spreading her thighs and lining them up, so she could feel the effect she had on him.

“Brock.”

“What did I tell you we’d do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She turned her head away from him, but he caught her chin and forced her gaze back to his.

“I said we’d shower, eat, sleep, then talk. We’ve done all of those. That only leaves one thing.”

“I’m not saying the vows!”

“Maybe, I’ve changed my mind.” He rubbed his groin against hers. “Perhaps, I can wait for the vows, but I can’t wait to touch you, to bury my head between your thighs and taste you.”

“Brock.”

His name was a moan now. He liked it any way she said it, but that moan was like a caress along his skin.

“Let me taste you, love,” he whispered against her ear before he trailed kisses along her neck.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Why?” he murmured along her jaw.

“I don’t know.”

Another moan and he grinned even as he took her lips. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He’d planned to wait, to make them both wait for her to say the vows that would bind them as mates, but he couldn’t. He needed her. Needed to claim her as his with or without the words. She slid her fingers along his shoulders and down his chest until she burrowed them under his shirt. Without thought, he leaned up, reached back, and ripped his shirt off over his head, tossing it away.

“Yes,” Jemma sighed as she ran her fingers over him. Then her lips followed, and he nearly swallowed his tongue.

They’d slept together the night before, skin to skin, but he’d done his best to be a gentleman and keep his hands confined to only certain areas. Now, he quickly slipped them under her shirt and shoved it up and off her, making quick work of the bra beneath, as well. She urged his mouth back to hers. Brock relished the feel of her hard nipples against his chest. It reminded him of how he’d awoken with every delectable inch of her pressed close. He planned to wake that way every morning.

He broke their kiss and finally made his way toward her nipples. He’d seen them, felt them. Now, he needed to taste them again. He flicked his tongue over one before swirling it around, watching as the tight nub grew harder. Jemma moaned, arching into his mouth.

“Oh, God!”

He moved to the other breast. She was firm and full, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed his way down her body, pausing to snap open her jeans as he did. He had them spread wide, ready to pull them off, before he slipped off the end of the bed. He jerked off her shoes and socks, then with a quick tug he had her jeans on the floor. His gaze swept over her. Long legs, slightly askew, gave him a glimpse of the flushed folds he planned to devour next. Her hips. The nip of her waist. Those mouthwatering breasts. Her face, flushed with desire. She was perfection, and she was his.

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