Redeem the Bear (Bear Valley Shifters #5)(32)

Today, he was incapable of loving her completely, but someday, somehow, she would give him the tools he needed to find happiness again.





Chapter Fourteen



Nervous flutters lobbed around inside Corin’s stomach as she led Brooks up the dirt path to her house. This was the first time he would see how she lived, and a huge part of her wanted him to approve of her tiny cottage—of her tiny life.

Intimidating to the core, the alpha of the Long Claws probably lived in a large house among his people. But she had to serve tables for a living and her home wasn’t much more than an efficient one room shelter. She loved it, and she hoped he would too.

Shooting one last glance over her shoulder at his stoic expression, she pushed the door open and watched his face. He took in the scuffed wood floors, and the sunny wildflowers on the small dining table. He took in the matching daffodil colored curtains, and the brightly painted walls.

The smile started slow on his lips, and as he looked around, it grew deeper. Her breath caught as the dimple she had thought she’d never see again notched his left cheek.

“You always liked purple. I remember,” he said in a deliciously deep baritone voice.

She couldn’t take her eyes from his beautiful smile. His unexpected grin filled her with such a feeling of home, and she pressed her thumb against the mark, the last needed proof that Brooks had been the boy she loved. Now, he was the man who held her heart.

“You like it?” she asked as shyness forced a blushing heat up her neck and into her cheeks.

The smile dipped from his face as his gaze met hers, only to return at the corners. “It’s just right. Come here.” He dropped his duffle bag by the door and gripped her waist, his fingers finding their way under the fabric of her shirt.

Slow trails of warmth followed his fingertips and she dropped her eyes to his sensual mouth. She wanted to taste the smile that still lingered there. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his, and he backed her slowly to the bed.

“Did you touch yourself when we were apart?” he asked against her lips.

She should be embarrassed, really she should, but she was comfortable with him. He didn’t play games, she knew that now. He was curious. No agenda, no gathering ammunition to use against her later, this was just how he communicated, stripping conversation to its barest elements and eliminating meaningless words until he asked for only what he wanted to know.

“Yes.” The back of her knees hit the bed and she folded onto it.

As she scooted backward, he began to stalk her, his burning eyes never leaving hers.

“And did you think of me?” he asked, lower and huskier now.

His dominance was eking out of him, but she fought the urge to drop her gaze. He should see the truth in her words. “I’ve always thought about you.”

“Good,” he rumbled as he tugged her ankle gently to stop her backward motion. Settling between her hips, he lowered himself onto her and kissed her ear, her neck, the tip of her collar bone. “I’ve thought about this moment a lot. I thought I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming into you like a rutting beast, I wanted you so badly.” Her shirt bunched helplessly in his strong hands, and he pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Eyes smoldering, he raked a hungry gaze down her chest and to the waist of her jeans. “But that night in the tent was the first time I took it slow with anyone, and I want that again.”

Corin rocked her hips against the length of his erection. “And what if I don’t want it slow?”

He growled and met her hips, driving a long, hard stroke against her jeans as he growled deep in his chest. Gripping her hair and arching her head back, he whispered into her ear, “Don’t tempt me to lose myself, woman. You’re still new at this and need a gentle touch until you’re stretched to take me easier.”

Holy shit, if he kept talking like this, she was going to detonate. The button of her jeans snapped and the sound of the zipper pulling slowly filled the room. Panting, she tried to pull his shirt over his head.

In a rush, he balked and grabbed her hand. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His dark gaze held silent warning.

“Okay,” she breathed, stung that he was still posturing in the safety of her home. She wasn’t a dominant, nor would the thought ever occur to attack him if she realized how hurt he really was. His lack of trust was a bitter taste in her mouth. She could almost feel another wall slamming down between them as he hovered over her, studying her face.

Quietly, he said, “This can wait.” Then he slid off the bed, and strode for the door.

He was leaving. After a few blinding moments of happiness together, he was running again.

Anger burned through her veins, igniting her bold tongue. “Why are you so afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” His voice sounded strange. Defeated, maybe, but his tone held only honest notes. He really wasn’t afraid of anything. Shouldering his duffle bag, he disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

The tap to the shower sounded, and she stood, staring at the door with a frown so deep it hurt her face.

What was she supposed to do? Give him space to pull away from her even further? No. Whatever he was thinking, whatever darkness he had holed up in him would eat at him from the inside out. If she didn’t knock his demons loose, who would?