The Mane Squeeze

CHAPTER 17

Lock was starting to see a pattern here. Adding a little Gwen to his life seemed to improve his meals exponentially. In addition, his parents seemed to adore her, and his sister tolerated her, which was more than Iona did with most people. So, using basic science, if he were to add Gwen to more of his life in general, she’d improve it all around.

At least that was his conclusion. And who was he to argue with basic science?

Lock held Gwen’s jacket open for her. She reached for it, and he stepped back, continuing to hold it open.

“Are you going to give me my jacket or what?”

“I’m holding it open for you.”

She studied the jacket and then him. “Why?”

“Just put your arms in the damn jacket!”

“Okay, okay!”

He helped her put her jacket on and once he had her in it, leaned down and wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“The MacRyries are so polite—except when you eat.”

“We were hungry. And you still have all your fingers and toes.”

“Barely.”

Lock lifted her in the air, making her legs swing out, and Gwen squealed.

“Lachlan, put her down,” his mother ordered, although she was smiling. She handed Gwen a take-home bag filled with leftovers from their meal. “Here you go. Lunch for tomorrow.”

“Thanks so much.”

She hugged Gwen. “I’m so glad you came tonight.”

“And thank you for covering for me.”

“Anytime.” Alla went up on her toes and kissed Lock’s cheek. “Talk to you soon?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He opened the door and they walked out onto the porch, his mother behind them.

“What about Ric?” Gwen asked.

“His car is here to pick him up, but he’s staying to do the dishes.”

Gwen stopped and said to Alla, “Ulrich Van Holtz is doing your dishes?”

“Of course. He always does the dishes when he eats here. Always a very polite boy. And unlike that idiot father of his, he has a brain.”

“Mom.” Lock chastised, although he knew his mother meant every word.

“I’m merely pointing out that the gene that controls intelligence skipped a generation in the Van Holtz household. Like red hair or blue eyes.”

Lock stood on the porch and watched as his father gazed down the street at a dark-blue van with dark windows. It was easy to spot on a small street that hadn’t had new neighbors in more than ten years. Everyone knew everyone else and strange vehicles on the block caught one’s attention. Especially the attention of curious bears. But that van wasn’t strange to him. Hell, it still had the dent on the side from his shoulder.

“Stay here,” he said to Gwen and his mother before going over to his father. “Dad?”

“That van. I think someone’s inside, but the windows are so dark I can’t tell.”

The father and son looked at each other and then back at the van.

“What are they doing?” Gwen asked.

“Being curious,” Alla replied. “My husband and son are very curious.”

Brody leaned against the van and sniffed at the window. When that didn’t seem to work, he grabbed hold of the door handle and pulled, ripping the handle from the door.

Gwen’s body jerked. “Oh.”

Lock walked to the back of the van and tugged on the door handles there…before ripping them off. Like his father, he dropped them to the ground and focused on the doors. He pressed on the two darkened windows in the back of the van with his fingertips. Nodding, he stepped back, balled his hands into fists, and slammed them forward, breaking through the glass.

The motor on the van roared to life as Lock reached into the broken windows and grasped the doors from the inside. Brody broke through the driver’s side window with his elbow and grabbed hold of that door. Tires spun as the vehicle shifted into Drive, but it sat in position for several long seconds, tires churning up gravel and dirt, until there was a hard squeal of metal and the van shot off—leaving its three doors behind.

Gwen charged down the stairs and across the street.

“Have you two lost your minds?” she yelled.

Holding the thick, steel-enforced doors in both hands while blood dripped down his arm from where he’d been cut by the glass, Lock watched her curiously. “Why would you say that?”

Lock took her back to his apartment, parking his SUV in the garage under his building. When he turned off the motor, they sat inside his vehicle until Gwen said, “How the hell did you find an apartment with parking in this city?”

Not what he expected her to say, but Gwen always seemed to surprise him. “My uncles helped me get this place.”

He got out of his SUV, and by the time he walked around to the passenger side, she was out and heading toward the elevator. Neither spoke in the elevator nor while walking down the hall to his apartment.

Once inside, he took off his jacket, hung it up in his closet, and headed off to the bathroom so he could take off the gauze bandages his mother had wrapped around his arms. His mother handled it, because Gwen wouldn’t let a very pissed-off Iona near him. “You just keep your Hands of Evil away from him, butcher girl,” she’d said plainly with a completely straight face.

Tossing the bandages into the trash, he quickly examined his forearms. The wounds had already healed up, appearing more like scratches one might get from their pet rather than the gouges they were a couple of hours ago.

Lock rinsed off any residual blood, washed his hands, and tracked Gwen down in his kitchen. Coffee was percolating in his twelve-cup coffeemaker, and she was invading his cabinets for sugar and mugs.

“I can’t believe how much ice cream you have in your freezer,” she said.

“I like ice cream.”

She shut the cabinet door and placed the small container of sugar on the table, along with a generic bottle of honey he kept for emergencies and two large mugs. Glancing at his arms, she held her hands out. “Let me see.”

Lock dutifully held his arms out and she grasped his wrists, examining his forearms closely. “They’re healing up nicely. See? I knew your mother could handle it.”

He didn’t respond, too busy noticing how close his hand was to her chest, the curious bear in him desperate to discover how her breasts would feel. Always one to explore when he had the chance, Lock simply lifted his right hand until her breast filled his palm.

Gwen froze, but she didn’t push him off.

Lock closed his hand around her breast, gently squeezing, amazed how such a simple action could feel so good.

Gwen gasped and, to Lock’s great appreciation, stepped in closer.

He used his left hand and gripped her other breast, squeezing until Gwen reached for him. Her hands dug into his sweatshirt and she tugged at it, trying to lift it. He released her long enough for him to bend at the waist, allowing her to yank the shirt off over his head and toss it somewhere.

Moments later she had those small, soft hands of hers gliding over his shoulders and down his chest. She moved in closer, pressing her head into him and brushing her hair against him in a way that was totally feline. He trembled and slipped his hands into her hair, lifting her head and tilting it back so he could take her mouth fully, his tongue and lips exploring hers as he’d been wanting to do since he met her at Jess’s wedding.

Gwen gripped his hair, her fingers holding the strands tight as her tongue met his and she moaned into him. Lock let himself get lost in that kiss, let his body take him where it would without thinking much on where it was going.

Abruptly pulling back, her eyes wide, Gwen gaped at him.

“The way you kiss,” she gasped. “You do something…weird.”

He scowled. “It’s not weird.”

“Not bad weird but,” one finger slid across his bottom lip and his entire body shuddered, “amazing weird.”

Weird was still weird to Lock, but she didn’t seem freaked out or anything. Besides, he might as well tell her and get it out of the way. “It’s nothing, really. We, bears I mean, have, uh…well, the technical term is prehensile-type lips.”

Gwen’s eyes focused on his mouth, her brow furrowed as she studied it for a long moment. “You have what?”

Gosh, this was awkward. “I mean…” Damn, what did he mean? “They can move independently. When I’m bear, they’re completely unattached from my jaw, and as human—I can kind of play with that.”

She leaned back a little more, her furrowed brow turning to an outright frown and well on its way to a healthy scowl. “Are you telling me that your lips are like…” She had this look on her face that could be a look of disgust or a look of confusion, he had no idea which one. Confusion he could handle…disgust, however…

“Your lips are like fingers?”

He swallowed, terrified he was about to lose everything with this answer, but Lock had never been one to lie about much, especially himself.

“Yeah,” he admitted, reluctantly. “I guess that’s one way of—”

She shoved and Lock moved back from her, watching in stunned silence as she ran out of the kitchen.

Gee, is that my broken heart lying on the floor? Yes. Yes, it is.

Wait. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily, was he? Simply because she didn’t understand? No way.

Determined, Lock stalked out of the kitchen, through his dining room, and into the hallway. He looked toward the front door, expecting to see Gwen struggling with the security system. She wasn’t.

More curious than panicked now, Lock sniffed the air and followed Gwen’s scent…to his bedroom.

As he walked in a sneaker hit him in the forehead.

“Why are you still dressed?” she demanded, standing in the middle of his bed. “Get naked!” Another sneaker hit him in the head.

“Uh…Gwen?”

“What? You’re asking me questions now? Why are you asking me questions now?”

Because she was freaking him out?

Gwen tore off her socks and then went for her jeans.

“What are you doing?” he asked, completely confused.

“I know, I know.” She was panting. Heavily. “You want something more organic or romantic or some other bullshit, but I don’t have time for that.”

“Why? Do you have to be—”

“I mean, seriously…how many times in a girl’s life can she hope…even dream?”

“Gwen, I don’t under—”

“I swear,” she begged while wiggling out of her jeans before she sent them flying, “you take care of me, I swear, swear, swear I’ll take care of you. I just need you to do this for me.”

And there went her panties.

“That sounds great, but I guess I’m unclear—”

“Unclear?” she snapped. “You tell me your lips function like fingers and you’re unclear? On what exactly?”

Lock took a moment to luxuriate in the wonder that was Mr. Mittens. Because, holy hell, he adored this woman!

“I see.”

“I hope so.” Completely naked from the waist down, Gwen stretched out across Lock’s bed, her feet pointing at him, and spread her legs. She fisted her hands at her side and said, “Okay, do it. Wait!” She reached over and grabbed one of his pillows, covering her face. “Okay,” she said behind the pillow, “now do it.”

Unable to help himself, Lock teased, “If you’re sure.”

The pillow slammed against the bed, and that desperate feline glared at him from beneath a mass of unruly curls. “Oh, my God! I will kill you!”

“Okay, okay.” Laughing, Lock kneeled on his bed. “No need to get crazy. I’ve got it covered.”

She made a little whimpering sound and covered her face up with the pillow again. He wasn’t sure why, but who cared? Because at this moment, in his perfect universe, he had Gwen O’Neill right where he wanted her.

Gwen caught her lip between her teeth and peeked around that pillow like a nervous virgin. She watched, barely able to breathe, as Lock hooked his arms under her knees and lifted her legs up and back, giving him complete access to her pussy. He gazed down, giving her a brief second of concern, before he licked his lips and lowered his head between her thighs.

To Gwen, there was absolutely nothing sexier than that first moment a man went down on a woman. In this case, however, she knew she’d never find anything sexier than Lock MacRyrie doing it. He’d given her that explanation about his mouth earlier as if he’d had no idea the power of what he was telling her. Did he not know that some women searched their entire lives looking for a man who’d developed the kind of talents Lock had gotten naturally from his DNA? Of course, this explained why She-bears never talked about their men. Why would they? Why would they give up the secret of their happy marriages? Only a fool would do that, and bears were never fools.

Lock kissed the inside of her thighs, gently licking and nipping the sensitive flesh. He took his time, and Gwen refused to say a word. She wouldn’t say anything that would ruin this. Not with her big mouth. Not a word. Not a syllable. Nothing.

His tongue slid inside her and Gwen’s eyes closed, her back arching a bit. Well, if nothing else, the man had the basics down, using his tongue to make her wet and crazy while he held her firmly. As he licked her, Gwen quickly forgot about anything but what he was doing to her. He teased her, taking his time, playing with her body. She enjoyed every second of it and, as she felt that first orgasm coming her way, his mouth moved and she felt his lips wrap around her clit. She groaned, the first orgasm easing through her. Until Lock did…something. Something so astounding, her entire body quaked, his lips tightening around her clit and twisting one way, then another, then tugging. Or something. Whatever he was doing, the original, slow-moving orgasm was brutally shoved away for the promise of something stronger and more powerful than she could have ever dreamed of. Gwen’s entire body bowed, her hands holding the pillow against her face out of courtesy to his neighbors. His lips twisted again, tugged, pulled, and Gwen almost shot off the bed. Her legs started to close of their own volition, but big, powerful hands pinned them down, making her eyes cross from the simple action.

Shaking, sweating, the orgasm bearing down on her yet still somehow out of her reach, Gwen allowed her body and desires to rule this moment with this man. She trusted him to take care of her, and knowing that made her groans deeper, her gasps louder.

His hands began to move, and the touch of his fingers against her skin was more intense than anything she’d ever known. Ever felt. One hand wrapped around her breast, his fingers squeezing and tugging the same as what his mouth was doing to her clit. Two thick fingers from his other hand pushed inside her, fucking her hard. He was relentless, almost brutal. But he didn’t hurt her. Far from it.

It was that mix of restrained strength with unending determination that took her over the edge. She came so hard that only his strong arms pinning her thighs down kept her on the bed, and his wonderful-smelling pillow muffled her screams.

Gwen’s body shuddered and writhed until she relaxed back, her breath coming out in hard pants. But her panting quickened, her body tightening again, and she realized as her brain cleared that he hadn’t stopped. His lips were still tugging and pulling, his fingers still playing. As the first wave left her body, the second slammed into her. The pillow went flying and Gwen gasped out his name, gripping the back of his head. She had no idea if she was trying to shove him away or hold him in place. She couldn’t think straight. Hell, she couldn’t think at all.

Every muscle of her body was taut and straining as the second wave roared through her. The pillow was no longer needed because she could barely breathe, much less scream. She held him to her as she rode out the second climax, immediately trying to push him away as it finished with her. But the bear didn’t pull back. He took her up again, his lips twisting and turning her clit until Gwen’s body snapped taut once more. Her fingers yanking at his hair, she begged him to stop, knowing she couldn’t handle more, but he told her, “Not yet, Gwen. One more.” And it crossed her feverish mind that he was speaking clearly while his lips were still working her over.

A third finger was inside her now, stroking and pushing, making her pussy feel too full. But it was the bite of pain that cut through everything and took her one more time. She came screaming with no pillow to block the sound, her body twisting and fighting as Lock held her down.

He finally pulled away, and Gwen crashed onto the bed, not realizing until that moment that only her shoulders had been resting on the mattress.

Once Lock moved away, Gwen managed to drag herself into a ball, shuddering and sweating, her teeth chattering, her body shaking, and she wondered if she’d ever recover from this.

Lock stared down at Gwen and wondered if he’d gone a bit too far. But he couldn’t help himself. The more she came, the more he’d wanted to see her do it again.

He leaned in a bit. “Gwen?” He touched her shoulder. “Gwen? Are you okay?”

Hospital. He had to get her to a hospital. Whether she wanted to go or not. Lock went to stand up, but Gwen’s hand reached out, gripping his throat. Uh-oh. She raised her head, her sweat-drenched hair nearly covering her eyes, and said, “Marry me.”

Hiding his immense relief, Lock replied, “Shouldn’t we get to know each other better?”

“What else is there to know?” she asked, her eyes gazing hungrily on his mouth, the fingers of her free hand reaching up and brushing against them gently. Lock’s eyes closed from the contact, the pleasure of it making him shudder. “I have all the information I need.”

“You do know there’s more to me than these lips, don’t you?”

“I don’t care.” And Lock laughed as she went on. “Until you I’ve only found men perfect from the neck down—and that’s only if they work out regularly and watch their carbs. But you? You’re perfect from the neck up and the neck down. You’re a god.”

“And once the euphoria wears off, you’re going to be kicking yourself.”

“Then—” she said, slapping her free hand against his face.

“Ow!”

“—the euphoria better not wear off.”

He frowned in concern. “Are you sure? Maybe we should wait a little while before we—” Lock’s eyes crossed as her hand reached down and gripped his cock through his jeans.

“I want you inside me. Now, Jersey.”

Panting, his brain unable to think past Fuck. Girl. Now, Lock quickly gripped the hand trying to get his jeans unzipped. “Wait.”

“For what?”

He had no idea. Oh! He remembered! Condoms. He needed condoms.

Lock pushed her hands away and rose up on his knees. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he reached over to his side drawer and pulled out the unopened box of condoms. He managed to tear the box open and had a condom in his hand when his zipper slid down and Gwen sunk her hand into his jeans.

He dropped the condom and choked as she gripped and stroked. Frowning, she pulled her hands out and proceeded to push his jeans and boxer briefs down to his knees.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped.

“What?”

“It is bigger.”

Lock peered down at his cock. “Well,” he offered as explanation, “it’s in a good mood.”

“You’re a grower and a show-er.”

“Gwen? Are you crying?”

“Just a little.” She wiped the tears. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, but—”

Her hand slapped over his mouth. “Silence is your friend right now.”

When he didn’t try to speak, she removed her hand and placed both on her hips. “Do you know I’m actually concerned I won’t be able to handle this thing?” A few more tears fell. “Do you know how many women actually get to say that sentence in a lifetime…and mean it?”

He kept his mouth shut, not wanting her distracted or upset. Not when he wanted her this badly.

“Give me a moment,” she said, and he was afraid she was going to leave the room to sob in private. She didn’t. She simply spread her knees wide, which lowered her down a bit, allowing her easier access to his cock.

And when her mouth wrapped around the head, he really thought he saw God and, not surprisingly…God was a bear.

Lock tasted so good. Better than she’d hoped. Especially when all she could think about was putting his mammoth cock in her mouth. If for no other reason than she wanted to see if she could swallow the whole thing.

Over the years, Gwen had found there were two kinds of men. Men who made eating a woman an art form because they were average—or barely—in size so they had to compensate. And men who were hung like horses but felt that nine-incher somehow exempted them from one of her favorite forms of entertainment.

Yet somehow that Irish luck that had kept Gwen alive all these years deigned to reward on her the highest blessing a woman could hope for. A well-hung man who loved to give his woman head.

Nirvana. She had it.

Gwen took him in her mouth, swallowing him whole. She felt the tip hit the back of her throat and she almost cried a little more when she realized she wasn’t done!

Relaxing her throat, she kept going until she’d managed to get all of him in. Lock gripped her head and it took her a moment to understand what he was fervently whispering.

“Thank you, God. Thank you.” Over and over again he kept saying it. A more complimentary mantra a woman was not likely to hear. She sucked and used her tongue, shocked when he actually got thicker inside her mouth. She growled in the back of her throat, making sure he felt the sensation of it vibrating against the tip.

That’s when she felt claws against her head and Lock pulled her off.

“I wasn’t done,” she said.

“You are for now.” Taking deep breaths, he pushed her back on the bed and grabbed the condom. She relaxed back, her elbows keeping her chest up as she raised her knees and spread her legs wide. She wanted to make sure he could see how wet she was for him.

Lock moved so fast, she only had a chance to blink before that condom was on and he was over her. He kissed her first, and the kiss was wonderfully passionate…and desperate. So desperate, she didn’t bother to try and hide the desperation building in her. Why bother when she wanted him so badly?

Gwen kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck. His thick arms gripped her under the knees and lifted her legs until they rested over his thighs. He pushed her farther back against the bed and pressed home, his cock sliding into her, filling her, making her ache and come at the same moment. He hadn’t even done anything yet, nothing but pushed inside her, but she came hard on that way-too-big cock, her mouth pressing against his chest to stifle her screams.

What was this woman doing to him? First that blow job that almost had him coming down her throat long before he was ready to and now…God, now, she was coming again. Her muscles tightened around his cock and he felt it down his back and to his toes. He gritted his teeth, ordering himself not to come yet. How unfair would that be? He was not a sixty-second man, and he wouldn’t start now, no matter how amazing Gwen’s pussy felt.

After a few minutes she stopped, her breath coming in hard pants against his nipple—which was definitely not helping—and her hands dug deep into his sides. Then Lock waited a few moments longer. He didn’t want to catch the tail end of anything, so he waited, even while it was killing him, he waited.

Finally, she let out a sigh and relaxed back. The sign he needed, Lock started slow, doing what he could to maintain control, keeping his movements even and…and…

“Oh…oh, God!” she cried out, arching into him.

Wait, wait! He hadn’t even—

But it was too late. Gwen was coming and those damn muscles of hers contracting around him were just too much. He lost it. Pressing his hands against her shoulders, Lock pinned Gwen to the bed and fucked her hard. So hard he knew he couldn’t be doing much for her, except maybe hurting her, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not when it felt this good. God, so good. Nothing. Nothing had ever felt this good be—

He barely bit back a roar as he came, his entire body jerking in time to each ejaculation. When there was nothing left to give, his body collapsed, too weak for anything more. He did, however, manage to fall to the side and not on top of her, but barely.

One of his arms lay listlessly across her chest and he cringed when she pushed it off.

“Gwen—” He had the apology on his lips, all the right words to explain how bad he felt, but she turned toward him, burrowing deep against him.

“Put your arms around me,” she demanded and he did, pulling her tight into his chest and wrapping one of his legs around both of hers. “Perfect,” she sighed seconds before she fell asleep.

Knowing she was the type of woman to tell him if she were disappointed or not, he let his worries go and fell into his own deep sleep a few seconds later.