Read Online Woodcutter Werebear (Saw Bears Book 2) by T. S. Joyce - Free Book Online
Authors: T. S. Joyce
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“Your mouth is hangin’ open,” Denison called with a smirk on his face.
Kellen clacked his teeth closed and cleared his throat. Skyler had pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail, exposing her long, fair neck, and she’d covered her bruises with some paint shit women wore to enhance whatever they thought needed enhancing. He wasn’t usually a fan of heavy make-up, but Skyler had dolled up her eyes with dark stuff and the green in her irises looked downright exotic. Or erotic. His cock swelled and hammered against his jeans. Her arms were toned, and she walked straighter, chin up, like the day had done wonders for her confidence. And when those gorgeous eyes fell on him—well, she just about buckled his knees.
“Mouth is hanging open again,” Denison observed helpfully.
“Shut up,” Kellen said. “Take the steaks off the grill. I’m gonna…yeah.” He handed Denison the tongs and weaved a path through the strewn plastic lawn chairs and around the fire pit Tagan was tossing logs into.
His alpha was staring at Skyler, too, but his eyes looked troubled. Kellen had already paid for her to be here in blood, though, so like it or not, Tagan had to accept her presence for tonight.
Kellen stopped short in front of Skyler. Brooke squeezed her hand, then made her way toward the fire pit.
“You look,” he said, voice cracking on the last word. He cleared his throat and stood taller. “You look healthy.”
“Healthy?” Skyler asked, then giggled. “Thank you, I think.”
She stood on tiptoes, sliding her hand over his shoulder, and kissed the two day scruff on his face. Her lips were soft and warm against his jaw. Surprised, he placed his hands on her hips to steady her on the way back down.
“You look handsome.”
He frowned down at his black cotton T-shirt and worn, holey jeans over his scuffed work boots. He hadn’t exactly dressed up for Brooke’s welcome home celebration, but if this was what Skyler liked, he’d dress down more often for her.
The sleeves of his shirt were tight, and Skyler ran her hand down his arm, over the curve of his bicep, and settled it in the inner crook of his elbow. Good grief, the woman could bend his animal to her will with a touch.
“I can’t see your bruises anymore,” he observed. Maybe conversation would stifle his urge to lead her back into 1010, bend her over the bed, and take her from behind until she screamed his name in pleasure.
“Yeah, Brooke has some really good foundation she got when her attacker hurt her face. She let me have it. Now I won’t have to hide behind my hair anymore.”
His face stretched in a smile. “I like that. I like seeing your face.” He brushed his finger down her cheek. “Your eyes.”
Skyler leaned against his hand, her soft jaw contrasting against the rough callouses of his palm.
“You hungry?” he asked, the urge to take care of her overwhelming.
“Starving.”
He leaned forward slowly and kissed her forehead. It was a long time before he could convince himself to take his lips from her smooth skin. She was an amazing woman, and she didn’t cringe at his touch. His addiction to her was growing by the second. When he finally pulled away, he said, “Come on. I’ll get you a plate.”
When she was settled in a seat upwind of the fire, he piled her plate high with steak, fire-grilled corn on the cob, and fruit salad. Only when she was settled and her Dixie cup full did he make his own.
The murmur of the crew shootin’ the shit after a long day on the job site calmed Kellen’s frayed nerves. Everything was fine. When he’d told her he wasn’t the mating kind, she hadn’t even batted an eyelash. She still asked for intimacy, she didn’t seem mad, and she wasn’t pushing him for more. He could do this. He could toe the line between too much relationship with Skyler and just enough.
Jed had done it. Shit, Jed was a terrible example. His mate had left him to live in Saratoga, a couple of hours away.
“Your mouth is hangin’ open,” Denison called with a smirk on his face.
Kellen clacked his teeth closed and cleared his throat. Skyler had pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail, exposing her long, fair neck, and she’d covered her bruises with some paint shit women wore to enhance whatever they thought needed enhancing. He wasn’t usually a fan of heavy make-up, but Skyler had dolled up her eyes with dark stuff and the green in her irises looked downright exotic. Or erotic. His cock swelled and hammered against his jeans. Her arms were toned, and she walked straighter, chin up, like the day had done wonders for her confidence. And when those gorgeous eyes fell on him—well, she just about buckled his knees.
“Mouth is hanging open again,” Denison observed helpfully.
“Shut up,” Kellen said. “Take the steaks off the grill. I’m gonna…yeah.” He handed Denison the tongs and weaved a path through the strewn plastic lawn chairs and around the fire pit Tagan was tossing logs into.
His alpha was staring at Skyler, too, but his eyes looked troubled. Kellen had already paid for her to be here in blood, though, so like it or not, Tagan had to accept her presence for tonight.
Kellen stopped short in front of Skyler. Brooke squeezed her hand, then made her way toward the fire pit.
“You look,” he said, voice cracking on the last word. He cleared his throat and stood taller. “You look healthy.”
“Healthy?” Skyler asked, then giggled. “Thank you, I think.”
She stood on tiptoes, sliding her hand over his shoulder, and kissed the two day scruff on his face. Her lips were soft and warm against his jaw. Surprised, he placed his hands on her hips to steady her on the way back down.
“You look handsome.”
He frowned down at his black cotton T-shirt and worn, holey jeans over his scuffed work boots. He hadn’t exactly dressed up for Brooke’s welcome home celebration, but if this was what Skyler liked, he’d dress down more often for her.
The sleeves of his shirt were tight, and Skyler ran her hand down his arm, over the curve of his bicep, and settled it in the inner crook of his elbow. Good grief, the woman could bend his animal to her will with a touch.
“I can’t see your bruises anymore,” he observed. Maybe conversation would stifle his urge to lead her back into 1010, bend her over the bed, and take her from behind until she screamed his name in pleasure.
“Yeah, Brooke has some really good foundation she got when her attacker hurt her face. She let me have it. Now I won’t have to hide behind my hair anymore.”
His face stretched in a smile. “I like that. I like seeing your face.” He brushed his finger down her cheek. “Your eyes.”
Skyler leaned against his hand, her soft jaw contrasting against the rough callouses of his palm.
“You hungry?” he asked, the urge to take care of her overwhelming.
“Starving.”
He leaned forward slowly and kissed her forehead. It was a long time before he could convince himself to take his lips from her smooth skin. She was an amazing woman, and she didn’t cringe at his touch. His addiction to her was growing by the second. When he finally pulled away, he said, “Come on. I’ll get you a plate.”
When she was settled in a seat upwind of the fire, he piled her plate high with steak, fire-grilled corn on the cob, and fruit salad. Only when she was settled and her Dixie cup full did he make his own.
The murmur of the crew shootin’ the shit after a long day on the job site calmed Kellen’s frayed nerves. Everything was fine. When he’d told her he wasn’t the mating kind, she hadn’t even batted an eyelash. She still asked for intimacy, she didn’t seem mad, and she wasn’t pushing him for more. He could do this. He could toe the line between too much relationship with Skyler and just enough.
Jed had done it. Shit, Jed was a terrible example. His mate had left him to live in Saratoga, a couple of hours away.
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