What a Bear Wants Read online

  What a Bear Wants

  Nikki Winter

  Copyright Notice

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Introduction copyright © 2013 by Nikki Winter

  Editor: Novellette Whyte

  Cover Artist: Nancy Grayson Donahue

  Published by Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any e-books away.

  Publisher Note:

  This is a work of fiction and may contain descriptions of adult situations, explicit language, and scenarios. These stories are for adults only. Please keep this out of the hands of people under the age of 18 years old.

  Other MMP Stories by Nikki Winter

  One Shot Too Many

  Under the Christmas Tree with Drea Riley

  Talking Dirty with Drea Riley

  Dedication

  Listen…I can’t even begin to express how many times I wanted to find a corner and gently rock myself to sleep while holding Mr. Monkey during the making of this story. Let me just tell you, that if it were not for baby Jesus, Billy and Janet, I would be in a psyche ward right now. I can’t say thank you enough, you two. You kept me on track when I started to have one of my moments of canine anxiety. Your bears are well deserved and I wouldn’t trust them in the dirty hands of anyone else but you…myself excluded. Friends, Romans, Country men…I hand you a tale from one shifter loving heart to another. I hope you find as much humor and joy in this story as I did.

  --Nikki

  Contents

  WHAT A BEAR WANTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU!

  Chapter 1

  from: Fallon Wilder

  to: Ransom Mckenna

  date: Wed, June 13, 2012 at 4:35 PM

  subject: STOP YOU PUSHY BASTARD

  Listen, I dunno if this is hard to comprehend because you’re slow to think and quick to act, because you spent too much time in the hash tents in the 70’s, because Satan clearly has a hold on your capabilities to rationalize and behave accordingly or because you’re simply one psychotic overgrown Rupert reject but read this clearly. I. Will. Not. Sell. Wilder. Lodge. To. You. Or to anyone for that matter. Got it? We clear? Are you understanding the words that are coming out of my proverbial mouth? Good. Great. Fucking awesome. Oh and the next time you want to send chocolates to someone who’s ass you’re attempting to kiss, evaluate the fact that said person is a canine. Good day Mr. McKenna.

  Well wasn’t that blunt? And incredibly adorable? Ransom McKenna sat back in his office chair, a smile slowly curling his lips as his eyes traced the email from one cranky, incredibly adorable, she-wolf. He rather admired the fact that Ms. Wilder hadn’t gotten an assistant to do her dirty work. No, no, she told him to fuck off all on her own. What man in his right mind wouldn’t admire how eloquently she’d done it; managing to insult him, bring up a questionable past of drug usage and insinuate that he was in league with Lucifer. Most potential business conquests would’ve given him a generic—“We’re not looking to sell at the moment but we do appreciate your interest. Should we so choose to in the future, we will contact you about your proposal.” But it was quite clear to Ransom that he wasn’t dealing with most potential business conquests.

  Fallon Wilder was more than a little different. Rather than continue to coast casually on the gift baskets, flowers, and subliminal messages he’d sent her, she’d cut to the chase; obviously tired of his not-so-subtle approach. Cute. Really cute.

  Most would tell him to be careful with her considering her reputation amongst the packs and prides. Apparently Fallon was what many called a cold, temperamental bitch who didn’t care about anything aside from her pack and her lodge. She didn’t date. She had no interest in mating and males who survived sex with her were generally too afraid to speak a word of it after. It was quite clear to him that she was trying to perpetuate that very persona.

  Yet, what Ms. Wilder didn’t realize was, Ransom didn’t care. Not in a malicious, cold-hearted way. It was in his nature not to. Grizzlies never paid much attention to anything if it didn’t involve mating, sleeping or prey. And like his father, his father before him, and the one before him, Ransom never released his prey. At least not until it stopped all that goddamn twitching and mewling. From his very first hunt Ransom learned an essential lesson—guard your balls and go for the jugular.

  He had no interest in damaging Fallon’s throat, he simply wanted the beautiful land she’d dug her paws into and refused to release...like a dog with a bone. Wilder Lodge had caught Ransom’s hard to gain attention just a few short months ago when it was featured as one of the top ten getaways in the world—more specifically the shifter world—above one of his own in a popular magazines. Shifters were a hard group to please, even harder to get a compliment out of, so the fact that she’d managed to not only gain a spot on the list but take Ransom’s in the process made him take notice.

  Well that and the picture of her beside the article. If he were being honest her face was truly the first thing to give him pause. Fallon Wilder wasn’t a fashion model by any means and every fiber of Ransom’s being was drawn to her because of that small fact alone. After googling as many images of the elusive she-wolf as he could find his inherent curiosity had finally been satisfied. No, Fallon wasn’t a supermodel but she was no less beautiful than any woman gracing one of the billboards or covers that he regularly saw.

  He couldn’t guess her exact size but she had to be at least six feet tall with a build that was more than a bit athletic yet noticeably feminine with heavy breasts, a toned waist and well-curved hips. Her face was sweet, innocent almost. Wide, doe-brown eyes, a button-like nose and a full sinful mouth pulled her high cheekbones and clefted chin, all covered in a semi-sweet chocolate tone, together. Her features were perfectly symmetrical which Ransom found interesting because he’d read once that in both nature and the human world of aesthetics, symmetry was what drew one being to another. But he knew that symmetry had nothing to do with what he wanted from Fallon. It was the glint in her eyes and the shape of her lips as they bowed into a faint smile for the photographer who had taken the picture for the article.

  That look was purely predatory. A challenge almost, to both the beast and businessman that resided inside him. A challenge that Ransom was willing to accept. He’d been managing the real estate branch of the McKenna Sleuth since he’d graduated with an MBA and had gotten licensed in at least seven different states. Ten years later and thus far his sleuth owned twenty different resorts worldwide, several hotels and more than a few rental properties because of him. He wanted to add Wilder Lodge to that list. And possibly add Fallon to his very large, very sturdy bed.

  The thing of it was, she was clearly a bit testy when it came to the subject of selling. If he remembered correctly, that land had been in her
family for a very long time. The sleuth member in him could respect that, but the real estate tycoon...not so much. He wanted that property. And he wasn’t too inclined to give up his prey without a fight. If he had to bat his opponents around until they simply lay there, shuddering and panting, waiting for him to either finish them off or get bored and leave, then so be it. And no, he didn’t think that qualified him as clinically insane.

  Ransom sat and scanned that email again, then without hesitation, he wrote a response...

  from: Ransom McKenna

  to: Fallon Wilder

  date: Wed, June 13, 2012 at 5:15 PM

  subject: Re: STOP YOU PUSHY BASTARD

  There are a few quick facts that I believe you should know about me Ms. Wilder. Firstly and most apparent, I’m. A. Bear. Which means everything you just typed with your cutesie, wittle paws is completely irrelevant to me. But because I’m bored and I feel the need to entertain myself, I shall address all your comments in order. I’m slow to move because I lumber, so that completely rules out your “quick to act” theory. Grizzlies aren’t big on the quick movements unless it means we eat faster. Because honestly, food takes up a disturbingly large portion of our brainpower. I have no idea how old you think I am but I was never old enough to be in a hash tent in the 70’s. The 80’s are a different story...don’t judge. This is a no judgement zone. By the way...how old are you? No, no, don’t get offended. I’m sure you carry it well. You should be aware that Satan and I could never get along so we went our separate ways years ago. It was for the best. Don’t cry for us. I appreciate you mentioning Rupert. It brought back memories of the days where I could roll around and grab my toes without someone being concerned enough to call my special doctor. And I don’t consider myself overgrown. Like the mighty men of the McKenna dynasty from a land way before time, I, happen to think of myself as well proportioned. Do with that last fact what you will. If you think I’m giving up on Wilder land that easily, you my cutesie wittle pup, are in for such a rude awakening. Oh and if you prefer I send you something else in place of the chocolates...such as Bambi’s mother on a platter...I can always do that...

  With a grin he hit the send button, ready to get up and find someone to bring him food. Ransom stopped when his Macbook dinged with one new email.

  from: Fallon Wilder

  to: Ransom McKenna

  date: Wed, June 13, 2012 at 5:25 PM

  subject: Re: Re: STOP YOU PUSHY BASTARD

  Fuck. You.

  Ransom had to be honest, it was the first genuine laugh he’d had in months. Months! He was so entertained! Good for Fallon! She’d accomplished something big here. And no that thought did not make him a narcissistic bastard!

  ***

  “Arrogant son of a bitch!” Fallon Wilder roared storming through the lobby of Wilder Lodge, ignoring the stares of several guests as she reached the front desk.

  Anoki Redwolf jerked up from under said desk, where he most likely had been reaching for new keycards for arriving vacationers. “It wasn’t me!” he screamed, backing away and waving his hands. Her employee then proceeded to grab Fallon’s assistant, Cade Adrien, and use him as a body shield. “Take him!”

  “No, no, no.” Cade shoved Anoki away, managing to put distance between himself and Fallon. “Don’t take me. Take someone much less attractive, who has nothing to live for.” With those words, he ran.

  She swung her gaze back to Anoki who was standing very, very still. “About those naked pictures I left in your room—” He started.

  Fallon looked up to the ceiling then back to the floor. “Wait...what?”

  “—I simply thought—”

  “Anoki,” She cut in. “I’m not talking about you being an arrogant son of a bitch.” His tension seemed to fade. Until she added, “Although I did sell those pictures to the highest bidder via shifter ebay. You’ll be getting a call from some lovely older she-wolf by the name of Babs sometime this week.”

  He looked slightly outraged before he shrugged and replied, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Fallon rubbed her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not a whore.”

  “Are we talking about the societal standard, biblical standard or legal standard because—”

  “Forget I asked.” She shook her head slowly. “Just forget I asked.” Looking around, she questioned, “Where’s Cree?” She hadn’t seen her best friend all day which wasn’t very beneficial considering she needed someone to bellow all her problems to.

  “Finishing up the five o'clock ride on Forest Hollow.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Anoki blinked innocently. “Because it’s on her activity sheet this week.”

  “And precisely how did it get there,” Fallon walked closer to her pack member and manager. “When I know I put it on yours?”

  Fallon generally had her employees split tasks amongst themselves. Being that Cree was better at the water sports such as kayaking, rafting, and fishing, mountain biking, hiking and rock climbing was generally left to Anoki to manage along with a handful of her other pack members. Summer in Glenwood Springs was their busiest time at the lodge. That was generally when they were hit with a multitude of prides, packs, and bear sleuths, all ready to experience the great outdoors with the convenience of five-star meals and enough electricity and hot water to power New York. The activities at Wilder Lodge ranged from onsite hunting to golf and plenty of day camps for cubs and pups to enjoy while their parents got some down time.

  He shrugged casually. “Perhaps she wanted to try something different.”

  “Perhaps I want to use my jaws to clamp down on your throat until you stop whimpering.” She replied just as casually. “Don’t bullshit me Anoki.”

  He tried to give her one of his classically charming smiles. “Fallon—”

  She simply gripped him by the crotch and walked him backwards until they were in the privacy of his older brother Makya’s office before she kicked the door closed with her foot.

  The head of security and her beta calmly looked up from the multitude of screens he watched on a daily basis, glanced at the pair and went, “Heh.” Then just as calm, he went back to studying those screens.

  “Are you not going to question why this vicious female is gripping my important bits, clearly intent of twisting them off like a bottle cap?!” Anoki cried.

  “Nope.” Makya answered.

  “Inconsiderate bastard!”

  “Mak,” Fallon said over Anoki’s incessant screams. “You wouldn’t happen to know why Cree took Anoki’s place on the bike trails today would you?”

  The large wolf smirked and retorted, “She wanted to have an excuse to escape should your homicidal rage unleash itself when you find out that the Jericho brothers have been sniffing around on the property again.” He nodded towards Anoki. “Dumbass over there thought he could lie to you better than our little Cree can because he generally doesn’t get as flustered as she does while trying to keep you distracted.”

  “Unh-hunh.” Fallon stated slowly. She released Anoki. “I completely understand.” Then she started for the door, not making it even five steps.

  “Fallon no!” Anoki, the bastard, literally sat on her after Makya put her in a nearby chair. “You cannot go around using Gladys on neighboring wolf packs.”

  In the rational part of her mind, she could understand his concern since they all knew Gladys was her prized Remington hunting rifle that she occasionally used to bring down a deer but she still jerked around beneath his weight. “I can when I’ve told them repeatedly to stop crossing my goddamn territorial lines!” Two of the bastards clearly did not get the message. Brody Jericho needed to knock his siblings together until they developed the same common sense that he, himself, had. He left his brothers to their bullshit, never participating and it was a deadly move. Especially when Fallon’s patience was beginning to wane. They had an amicable relationship but that co
uld change if she killed his siblings.

  Fallon highly doubted things would be this way if their father was still alive but the pack elder had passed some time ago due to an infection that had set in after sustaining serious injuries during a dominance battle with a younger wolf. In the end Victor Jericho had walked away with that wolf’s throat in his maw but just weeks later his win seemed to be pointless when his sons had to takeover.

  “We already dealt with it!” Anoki grabbed her wrists. “Mak tell her we already dealt with it!”

  Makya stood before her, arms folded across his chest. “We already dealt with it.”

  Fallon stilled at his tone. “How?”

  A smile curved his mouth as he stared down at her. “Slapped them around a bit.”

  “Just a bit?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe more than a bit.”

  “Enough to make Aaron cry.” Anoki added mentioning the youngest Jericho brother and staring off as if he were reliving it. “And boy did he cry...”

  Relaxing back into the chair, Fallon calmed considerably. “Why not just inform me of this? Why hide these things from me?”

  Anoki’s brows winged. “It may or may not have to do with the fact that the last time we informed you of something, you nearly blinded one of the elderly.”

  “One time. One fucking time and you never let me forget it! The bitch was in my way!” Fallon growled.

  “She was seventy!” Anoki argued.

  “And had a mean right cross! What was I supposed to do? Get pummeled by the geriatric? Do you not believe I have pride?” Fallon gritted out.

  Rolling his eyes, he finally stood, releasing her. “The point is, that the brute,” Anoki pointed to Makya. “Handles these things. Continue to let him handle these things.”