Her First Time With A Bear (BBW Shifter Romance) (12 page)

Doubling back might be a chance she had to take, later, when they had given up. If they ever did. However, the stone track they had driven along might be her only chance of getting out of here. Paris slid down the tree until she was crouched down. She put her face in her hands and closed her eyes, trying to blank the whole thing out. She just wanted to be home, warm and safe in Wes’s arms.

“Oh, Wes, where are you?” she said quietly.

With a shuddering breath, she got up, and walked further into the forest, saving her energy for if they found her. She tried to head in one general direction; it would make it easier to retrace her steps if she needed to. All this time she kept her focus on any noise that might tell her they were close. Thankfully, she heard nothing.

Wearily she plodded on, her body growing increasingly cold, the sun was getting lower, and she had left her coat at work, it had been a lot warmer at lunchtime. Lunchtime. It seemed an age away since she had walked along the street. Looking up at the sky, she tried to work out how long it had been, and if Wes would have realised she was missing yet. A sob escaped her as she made another silent prayer for him to come and find her.

Suddenly she stopped. There had been a noise, some way off, something else was moving through the trees. Very slowly, Paris stepped closer to the nearest tree, hugging it to try to remain hidden. Listening she did not hear anything else, so she poked her head out to look.

There! A man was walking quietly through the trees, she was sure he had not seen her. Looking hard she tried to work out if it was one of her captors. It had to be surely, no one else would be out here. She slipped back around the tree, and stood as still as possible, not even daring to breathe.

Remaining motionless, she again went through her options. Now there was at least one of the men in front of her, but where was the other? She could try to head back towards the track. Her only real concern was which one of them had the gun.

Looking around the tree again, she could not see him. He had either gone on too far into the trees, or doubled back. There was no way of knowing. Carefully she scanned the rest of the forest, looking and listening for any signs of movement. None.

She had to do something, so she headed back the way she had come. Well in that vague direction, it was hard to tell if she was right. The only difference now was she took it very slowly, moving from tree to tree, always watching for movement around her.

Her progress was slow, and the light around her became a green haze, and then a grey twilight. She ached all over, not only her legs, but also her head and her jaw where she had been hit. Soon she would have to stop, try to find somewhere dry to spend the night, and hope they would be long gone in the morning.

A beech tree had fallen and provided the best shelter she could find. Crawling under the horizontal trunk she managed to prop herself up, her knees drawn tight to her body, trying to conserve the heat which was rapidly leaving her body. With chattering teeth she tried to settle down and rest, knowing she should not sleep, but finding it hard to battle the heavy lids of her eyes.

It was only when she started awake that she knew she had slept. It took her a moment to focus, to remember where she was and the danger she was in, especially when she had been dreaming of Wes, and lying in his warm bed.

Then her senses returned sharply, there was a man right next to the tree she was under. She could see his boots, and his dirty jeans. His breathing was rapid, as though he had been running. She wanted to screw her eyes shut, and block him out, because surely he had seen her and was coming for her.

Then he turned and took off away from her, running. Paris let her breath out slowly, and then nearly fainted when she saw the large paw of a big dog right where the man had been standing. No, not a dog, a wolf. She could scarcely dare hope that this wolf was on her side, a shifter. Wes might be there too. However, her body would not move, she was too scared.

A black nose sniffed the ground, moving right up to the tree. Whatever it was, it knew she was there. For a moment, she expected it to change, for a man to be there, a man who could help her. Instead, it turned and ran after the man, that was its quarry, and she found she did not care if it ripped her captor's throat out.

She decided to stay put; not wanting to be wandering about in the forest with god only knows what out there. Vainly she hoped they would come back for her, that someone would come for her. Then there was a sudden crack filling the night, the gun had been fired. She covered her ears and started to cry. What if one of the wolves, or Wes, had been shot and killed all because of her. She should have let them do what they wanted to her, it would be better than knowing someone had been hurt or killed trying to save her.

A noise again, heavy footfalls. The guy with the gun must have come back for her, he knew where she was hiding, this was it, the end. Her mind raced, cold and hunger making it hard to think rationally. She looked into the gloom all around her waiting to see the face of her doom.

Instead, a huge bear paw planted itself next to the tree, and a loud snuffling sound filled her ears before a large snout appeared.

“Wes,” she cried out weakly.

Forcing her limbs to move she tried to crawl out, but her body objected too much. She ended up face down on the damp forest floor, and crawled the rest of the way, feeling his warm breath on her back.

Once free, she tried to sit up, but her energy was gone. All she could do was raise her head, and look into the eyes of the big bear standing over her. Wes, she could see him in there, she smiled weakly, and reached her hand out for him. He bent down and breathed heat onto her hands, she reached up and touched him, feeling his incredible body heat against her frigid skin.

The bear lay down, and she curled up in the space between his short strong legs. He curled around her, and she felt the life seep back into her bones. As the shivering finally stopped, her awareness returned. His heartbeat filled her ears, the rise and fall of his breathing soothing her fears away. She dug her fingers into his fur, needing to feel him, to know he was real, and not something she had dreamed up in this desperate hour.

A haunting howl filled the air, and Wes started. Paris opened her eyes and pushed herself away from him, the bear stood, shaking himself, and then looked at her. She placed her hand on the warm fur on his back, and let him guide her through the trees. He moved slowly but surely, knowing exactly where they had to go.

When she stumbled, he was there for her, his large thick body supporting her. The night was black around them, no moon, and the thick trees blotted out any small stars that might twinkle high above them. He never hesitated, his path sure, Wes was taking her to safety, and she let herself be led by him, wanting to be home, and safe with him next to her.

The trees thinned, and they came out on the stony road she had jumped out on all those lonely hours ago. Two cars were waiting, the ranger's and Wes’s truck. A man was waiting by the vehicles, and Paris could see his uniform.

“Paris? Are you OK?” the ranger asked, coming towards her.

She nodded numbly, not wanting to let go of Wes. “Come on, there's a blanket in my truck, let Wes change, and then he can take you home.”

She looked at Wes, who inclined his head, so she did as she was told, feeling a little better when the ranger wrapped her in a thick wool blanket. Where Wes went she did not see, he disappeared behind her, but she imagined him changing, and longed to be in his strong arms.

“Did you get them both?” she asked, her voice not wanting to work, but she needed to know.

“Yeah. Tom arrested them, attempted murder.” He saw her face, and the shock registered there. “We are going to try to keep you out of it, they fired the gun at Tom, so he is going to scare them pretty well with that one.”

“Was he hit?”

“No.”

“Was he a...man, when they fired?”

“Yeah,” the ranger chuckled. “He’s accusing them of being high on drugs too, they kept going on about wolves, and we all know there are none of them around here.”

Footsteps behind her made her swing around. Wes stood there, his face creased with worry. She went to him, flinging herself into his arms.

“Well. I’ll speak to you tomorrow sometime, Wes. Make sure we have everything straight.”

“Thank you, Scot.”

“No problem. We’ll be in touch.”

With that, the ranger left, and Wes held her so tight she could hardly breathe, but she could not think of any other place she would ever want to be.

Wes clung to Paris, breathing in the scent of her. He hated the fact that along with the forest smells that clung to her he could also smell another man on her. It made him want to rip him to shreds. A thing he would have done if the wolves had not been here too.

Now the two men were safely behind bars, and by safe, he meant it for their own good. If he had his way as soon as they were released he would hunt them down. Tom had assured him that was not likely to happen for some time.

Pulling his thoughts away from the destruction of Paris's kidnappers, he turned instead to his mate, and cursed himself for not getting her in the truck sooner. She was shaking, he could not tell whether from the cold or the trauma of the day.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, and half carried her to his truck, opening the door and lifting her in.

She sat still, and so he buckled her seatbelt around her, lifting her hand to his lips when he had finished, and kissed it. Paris turned and looked at him, her eyes misty and red, a weak smile played on her lips, and his heart clenched in desperation. He would not be able to control himself if anything ever happened to her.

“Thank you for coming for me,” she said.

“How could I not?” he asked, his words choking in his throat. “I only wish I could have prevented it from happening at all.” He bent his head and kissed her hand again.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and then slid it under his chin and lifted his face to hers. “It’s not your fault, I’m just glad you came. It’s the first time in my life someone has actually cared that much about me.”

“I love you, Paris. I will do anything for you. And that will never change.”

She leaned forward and kissed him and the tension in his body, and the sadness in his heart began to dissipate. He let out a shaky breath, and buried his head in her lap. It was going to be all right, he had not lost her. They could overcome all of this, and be as they were, if not more.

Reluctantly he moved away from her, shutting the door firmly before going around and climbing in beside her. The engine roared to life, and he switched on the headlights, the sudden brightness blinding. He reversed some way back, and then found a place to turn around. They headed back down the track, the trees crowding in around them.

When they got back to the road, which led to her house, he indicated and began to turn.

Paris, who had been sitting silently beside him, suddenly sat up and said, “No, Wes. I meant take me home, to your house.”

“You want to stay at the bar? Are you sure, I thought you were against moving in with me?”

“Not any more. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Hey. I wouldn’t leave you. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“No. I want to stay with you. My mom will be back soon enough, and I don’t know if I want to live with her any more.”

He looked and saw the sadness in her face. He understood how she felt, because when he had heard what had happened to her he had blamed her mom. Her selfish, immature mom. “Give it some time, Paris. You'll move past blaming her.”

“Will I? It’s not just this. All my life she's messed up, dragged me wherever she wanted to go, no thought for my happiness or safety. This is the last straw.”

Wes decided this was not the time to have a debate with her about her mom. However, he would try to get Paris to make peace with her mom. He wanted her, sure. In fact, the thought of her living with him made him happy, very happy. But he wanted her to move in with him because she wanted to, not because she had nowhere else to go.

Turning the truck, he headed along the road, towards the bar, which would be filled with his regular customers. Saturday night, drunks, fights, well, someone else could deal with it tonight. His only concern was for Paris.

So when they got to the bar he used the back door, carrying her in and up the stairs to where he lived above the bar. The noise drifted up faintly, but neither of them noticed.

“I’ll run you a bath,” Wes said, placing her down on the sofa.

“Thank you,” she said.

He disappeared, and she heard the sound of water running. The thought of the warm water around her, of it finally chasing the chill from her body was so inviting she got up and headed for the bathroom.

“I don’t have any bubble bath or anything,” he said apologetically.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you have shampoo, I have forest in my hair.” She went and looked in the mirror, catching sight of herself in the glass as the steam covered it. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was that bad.”

He clenched his fists, and went to stand beside her. “It'll soon fade. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She turned to him, and instantly erupted in tears. Wes held her tight, too tight, he knew, but she was the only thing keeping him here. Keeping him from disappearing into the night to commit murder.

The water felt hot against her chilled body, she sank down into it, not caring that Wes was stood watching her. Any embarrassment over her body had passed when she was around him. She knew for sure now how much he cared for her, whatever size or shape she was.

If anything, the feelings he had for her scared her in their intensity. The look in his eyes when they had been in the forest had told her how much damage he had wanted to do to the two men who took her. There was no doubt in her mind that he would kill for her. To some women this might be a thrill, to Paris it unnerved her. In her whole life, she had never had that sort of support, or protection.