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Bear Meets Girl (Pride #7)(53)

By:Shelly Laurenston

Fuck it! It was all driving her wild.
So wild she could barely see straight, her hands wiggling in those cuffs, her body writhing beneath his. Especially when she realized he hadn’t moved. He’d entered her, but now he was just ... there. Waiting. Letting her feel every amazing inch of him.
Unable to wait any longer, Cella squeezed her muscles, grinning when she heard him gasp and the muttered curse. Then his hands moved to her waist, holding her steady as he took her hard.
Yet even as he plowed into her, her wrists bound, taking what he wanted from her, Cella realized that she’d never felt safer before. More cared for.
And it was when she understood that, knew the truth of it, that she suddenly came without warning. Considering it was her second orgasm in a short amount of time, she usually needed what she liked to call a little clit love. But here she was, exploding all over the man, her body shaking and nearly twisting out of his hands. Then he was coming right behind her, the hands on her hips turning to claws, digging into her flesh but stopping before any real damage could be done.
While Cella tried to get her breath back, the bear removed the cuffs, his hands rubbing her wrists. He stretched out on the floor and Cella collapsed on top of him. They lay in silence for long minutes until Cella admitted, “You have the biggest cock ...”
Crush laughed, his hand slipping into her hair, massaging her scalp. “Why, thank you.”
“Just felt I should share that.”
“I have to admit, Cella, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your after-sex pronouncements.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Cella crawled over the bear, landing on his chest and bouncing up and down until he woke up.
“Must you do that?”
“Yes.” She laughed, kissed his neck. “I have to get to the Sports Center.” 
“No,” Crush whined, reaching for her. “Stay with me here.”
Cella batted off his hands. “Do you really want me to tell the Marauder that I didn’t show up for a game because I was busy having sex with you?”
“He’s all about personal responsibility. He’ll blame you, not me.”
“You bastard.” She pinched his nose and covered his mouth until she felt she’d gotten her message across.
“Now,” she said once she’d released him and he could breathe, “are you coming to the game tonight?”
“Of course, I am. It’s my team. And the Marauder’s playing.”
She covered his nose and mouth again, not letting him push her off until she was sure she’d really gotten her message across. “Are you coming to the game tonight?” she asked again.
“How could I ever dream of missing you play?”
“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
She kissed him and scrambled off before he could grab her and pull her back. “Do you need tickets or anything?”
“Nope. I’m meeting Conway at the Sports Center.”
“But you are coming to the locker room after, right?”
“Can I bring Conway and totally show off that I’m gettin’ it on with Bare Knuckles Malone?”
“What kind of pretend girlfriend would I be if I didn’t let you do that?”
“So we’re still going for the pretend, eh?”
“Yep. I’ll see you after the game.”
He grumbled something and turned over.
Cella stopped outside the bedroom to find Lola standing there. She’d had Tommy pick up the dog and bring it, her, whatever, to the hotel room. And Crush had been so happy when he’d seen her that Cella just knew she’d have to really face the fact that the man had a dog and that dog, no matter how unattractive, would always be around.
Cella stepped aside and gestured to the bed. “Well, go on. Since I’m not there.”
Lola ran past her, but the poor thing couldn’t leap up on the bear-sized king with those short legs. So Cella, her lip curled in disgust, slipped her hand under that chubby ass and hoisted her onto the bed.
Then, without even a thank-you, the dog ran and cuddled up next to Cella’s bear, burrowing against his chest.
Wishing she could do that herself, Cella forced herself to leave and head down to the lobby. Mario the driver waited right outside, smiling when he saw her approach.
“Hello, Miss Malone.”
“Hi, Mario.”
She handed over her equipment bags to Mario and settled into the backseat. She’d just started to relax when her cell phone went off. She dug it out of her backpack and looked at the text message.
GOOD LUCK TONIGHT, SEXY.
Grinning, Cella texted back:
I BETTER SEE YOU LATER. YOU KNOW HOW I AM AFTER A GAME. HEH.
“Yep,” Cella told Mario. “Best pretend boyfriend ever.”
“Oh, come on, Miss Malone,” Mario playfully shot back. “Pretend boyfriend, my butt. Everybody at KZS knows you’re dating that bear.”
“It’s not official or anything,” she argued.
“Lame.”
“Shut up, Mario.”
They reached the Sports Center pretty quickly considering it was nearly rush hour, and Mario parked right by the front doors.
Once Cella had all her equipment, Mario patted her shoulder. “Good luck tonight, Miss Malone.”
“Thanks.”
“Will I be picking you up after the game?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ll text you.” She walked off, heading toward the exclusive entrance. A wolf security guard was holding the door open for her when she suddenly stopped and looked over her shoulder.“Everything all right, Miss Malone? Miss Malone?”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”
Cella took one more look around, but didn’t see anything. It was just a feeling. Letting out a breath, she headed inside, smiling at the wolf still watching her. Once in the hallway, she put down her stuff and pulled out her cell phone. She hit her speed-dial and waited.
“Smith.”
“It’s Cella.”
“Yep.”
“I think someone’s following me.”
Smith was silent for a moment, then said, “You at the Sports Center?”
“Yeah. And my father and Crush are going to be here tonight.”
“I’ll be right over.”
Crush impatiently stood in line with Conway. Usually he was impatient to see the game. But for the first time he could remember, he was impatient for the game to be over so he could see a woman. Not just any woman, either. But a foul-mouthed little feline with what his foster mother would have called “unsavory family connections.” Like Peg Baissier was British royalty or something.
“You’re really liking this girl, aren’t you?”
“I specifically like her because she’s not a girl.”
“You mean because she’s a feline?”
Crush remembered to hold his temper in. “Because she’s a woman.”
“Girl. Woman. What’s the difference?”
“Ask your wife that. When the swelling goes down, let me know how well she took it.”
Conway chuckled. “Chay’s just glad you’ve found a girlfriend.”
“Pretend girlfriend.”
“Are you having sex with her?”
“None of your business.”
“That’s a yes, otherwise you’d just say no. You’re one of those honest guys.”
“You make that sound wrong.”
“Depends. And if you’re having regular sex with her, she’s not your pretend anything.”
“I don’t know if we’re that serious yet.” Or maybe he just didn’t know if Cella was that serious. She was not an easy woman to figure out; he at least knew that much.
While Crush was busy contemplating the extent of his relationship with Cella, he noticed that the crowd had grown disturbingly quiet. He looked at Conway, both of them frowning. Then he looked to his left—and into the cold blue eyes of the Marauder.
“Uh ... hi?”
The Marauder looked him over. “What are you doing?”
Crush again looked at Conway, but his friend could only shrug.
“Waiting to get my seat.”
“But this is the line for the shitty seats.” 
A bit insulted, Crush looked down at his season holder ticket. “They’re a bit high up, perhaps, but I still see the game well enough.” There. That was well put.
Well put for someone not The Marauder.
“But they’re shitty seats. We call those the shit seats.”
One of the males of the hyena clan standing behind Crush snapped, “Do you mind? We paid good money for these seats.”
The polar bear–lion hybrid only turned his head, scowl turning him into something so fearsome Crush was glad the man had never become a criminal.
“Did you just interrupt me?” Novikov asked the hyena.
“What if I did?” the hyena demanded, and that’s when Crush remembered the idiot and his Clan members had already had more than a few beers between them.
After years of being a beat cop, Crush went on instinct and grabbed Novikov seconds before those big hands were around the hyena’s throat. Conway kept the hyenas back by flashing his badge and eventually his gun.
“You’re gonna be late for the game!” Crush reminded Novikov and the hybrid immediately stopped fighting and looked at his watch.
“Shit!”
He grabbed his equipment and motioned at Crush. “Well, come on.”
Figuring he wanted Crush and Conway to keep the fans off him until he got to the locker rooms, Crush pulled his buddy and the pair followed after him.
“What about our seats?” Conway whispered to him.