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The Bear’s Capture

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Jenika Snow

Language:
English
Book Information:

Bear

The solitude had always been my companion and I accepted it, embraced it. Living on my own with the forest as my backyard had always been good enough for me.

Until it no longer was.

The quiet could be loud, the loneliness a burden. I was tired of being on my own. I wanted a wife, needed a woman to call my own.

Who I wanted was Susie.

She was sweet and kind, innocent and soft in all the right places. She made this caveman part of me rise up and take control. The things I wanted to do to her would probably frighten her, scare her away for good.

I didn’t pretend to be a gentle man. I was brutal and savage in my way of living, but when I looked at her I felt something soften within me.

It was time to man up and tell her what I wanted, that she was all I thought about, all I needed in my life.

Susie

I’d loved Bear for as long as I could remember, but I was just the grocery delivery girl, a person he barely talked to, rarely saw when I did my drop-offs. I’d always been too much of a coward to tell him how I felt, so I divulged all my longings and secrets to my best friend.

But I was tired of doing that. I wanted to be honest with him even if that ended up putting this wall between us, even if I got a broken heart.

I was willing to risk all of that to pour my heart out, to finally be honest.

I was willing to do all of that in the hopes he would say he loved me too.

Warning: This may not be a paranormal story, but it has bite to it! With a growly, celibate hero who’s been lusting after one virginal heroine, it’s time he staked his claim in all the ways that matter. Don’t worry, it’s still safe with a HEA and all the sexy goodness that goes along with it!

Books by Author:

Jenika Snow Books

1

Susie

I’d been taking groceries up to Bear Hollis’ cabin in the woods for the last two years. He was quiet, with a stony composure and cold demeanor. Despite his brisk attitude and the fact he ignored me the majority of the time, I wanted him. He was the strong, silent type, living alone, embracing solitude as if it were his best friend. I didn’t feel sorry for him, not when I could see how much he enjoyed being by himself.

I pulled my beat-up Cherokee to a stop in front of his cabin and cut the engine. I didn’t see him at first, but there were many times when I dropped off his groceries and never saw him at all. He was a lone wolf, not even wanting to come into town to do his monthly grocery shopping, and instead paid the fee to have the store send me up to deliver. I didn’t mind though, not when there were those chances of getting to see him.

Maybe that’s why I was the only one who volunteered to drop off his shit. Maybe everyone else was too afraid of the man he’d become.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit that over the years, my fascination and arousal for him had grown into something much more.

Love.

I loved a man who didn’t even look at me half the time, who probably didn’t even know my name after all these years. I was in love with a man who couldn’t stand to be around people, whose only friend was another recluse loner named Wolf, who’d just found himself a wife after years of solitude. I was insane for wanting Bear, should have just put him to the back of my mind and moved on with my life.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

I got out of the car and shut the door, standing there for a moment to see if he would emerge. When he was at home he usually came out and grabbed the groceries out of the back of my car, not saying anything but giving me a gruff grunt as if that was his way of saying thank you.

But all was still and quiet, which led me to believe he wasn’t home. I opened the back door and started grabbing the paper bags out of the backseat. There was a month’s supply of food I’d brought with me this time, mainly nonperishables, but he’d also requested fresh fruits and vegetables.

Although I knew he had a garden during the summer months, some fruits and veggies couldn’t be grown in our zone.

Taking the porch steps one at a time, I set one of the bags down and knocked on the front door. I already knew he wasn’t around, but I never just barged into his place. When there was no answer, I opened the front door and picked up the bags again before heading inside. The interior of his cabin smelled like pine, not the chemical, artificial kind, but the real wood aroma. It was the kind that told me he’d built this place on his own, cut the trees down, hammered them in place, made this his own.

Even if I didn’t know that to be true, the craftsmanship and how much effort and pride he put into building this place was evident.

It took me four trips to my car before I had all of his groceries inside. As per every other time before, I took everything out of the paper bags, not putting it away, but setting it on the counters. A part of me liked doing this even if it wasn’t my job. I felt like this could be where I lived, putting the groceries away while the man I loved was out hunting for us.

I was insane, absolutely crazy for what I wanted and how I felt.

Placing my hands on the edge of the sink, I curled my fingers around the ceramic and stared out the small window. All I saw was trees, these woods so thick and high up on the mountain that the air had a crispness to it. It was the middle of summer but up here there was a chill in the air when the wind moved through the trees.

I turned and stared at his place, having been in this home countless times over the last couple of years. To my left there were two leather chairs, worn and tattered from years of use. Between them was a coffee table, one that appeared handmade, no doubt by Bear.

The fireplace was in the center, the stone mantle dark from soot and use. There was a short hallway off to the side, the bathroom on one side and his bedroom on the other. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent of Bear mixing with the pine and the wilderness making me feel drunk.


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