Chapter 19 #2
“Then you better be fucking quiet,” he said, his voice a dark command that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
His lips crashed into mine, hot and demanding, stealing the air from my lungs as he backed me into the room.
The door clicked shut, and his hands were everywhere—tugging my sweater over my head, unbuttoning my jeans with a roughness that made my pulse spike.
His mouth followed, kissing a searing path down my neck, my throat, my chest, until he was teasing the edge of my bra with his teeth.
I gasped, too loud, and his hand clamped over my mouth, his eyes blazing.
“Quiet,” he ordered, the alpha in him undeniable as he peeled away the last of my clothes.
His fingers found me, slick and ready, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me as he stroked with deliberate, torturous precision.
“So wet for me,” he murmured, his mouth closing over a nipple, sucking hard enough to make me arch off the bed.
I bit my lip until it stung, trying to stifle the moans as his fingers worked me, pushing me toward the edge with ruthless skill.
My thighs trembled, my body clenching around him as I came, a silent cry trapped behind my teeth.
Bear’s control was fraying, his breathing ragged as he shed his clothes, revealing the hard lines of his body, every muscle taut with need.
He was thick and heavy, and when I reached for him, my fingers trembling as I freed him, his low growl sent heat pooling low in my belly again.
I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth, savoring the way he hissed my name, his hand fisting in my hair as I teased him, slow and deliberate, then faster, bolder.
“Fuck, Becca,” he rasped, his voice a mix of reverence and desperation.
The bed creaked as he pulled me up, flipping me onto my back with a strength that made my heart race.
He knelt between my legs, his eyes locked on mine as he spread me open, his touch both possessive and worshipful.
The first thrust was deep, relentless, and I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he set a rhythm that was raw and unyielding.
The bed groaned with every movement, and I struggled to stay quiet, my breath coming in sharp gasps as he drove me higher.
His hand slid between us, finding my clit, and I bit his shoulder to muffle a cry as pleasure tore through me, sharp and blinding.
“Shh, baby,” he growled, his mouth crashing into mine, swallowing my screams as I shattered again, my body clenching around him.
His thrusts grew erratic, his own release chasing mine, and he kissed me deep, desperate, muffling us both as we came undone together, the bed creaking one last time before we collapsed, tangled and breathless.
We lay there, his arms wrapped around me, his heartbeat slowing against my back. The snow kept falling outside, a soft hush beyond the window, and the house was quiet, the others none the wiser. For now, it was just us—warm, wild, and perfectly, dangerously alive.
Early morning light filtered between the blinds… The air was cold but I was tucked under a blanket with Bear’s arm heavy around my waist. My phone buzzed.
Caroline:
Okay. I’ve been stalking your feed and you’re glowing. What’s going on??
I smiled and typed back. Long story. Short version? Might be falling for a mountain man with a beard and a gun.
Falling?? Babe. Already?
Too soon, right?
I mean... not if it feels right. Snow and danger are aphrodisiacs. I’m coming to visit. I need to see this guy for myself.
Before I could answer, my mom called. Bear opened one eye… laced his fingers through mine.
“Becca! Finally. Stanley is depressed. He misses you.”
I blinked. “Stanley is a dog, Mom.”
“Well, he’s very sensitive.”
“And?”
“So, we’re coming out. Early. Me and Stanley to Margie’s.”
“Wait, what?”
“Oh, and FYI—your ex has been stalking my socials. Liking random posts. I think he’s looking for pictures of you.”
My stomach sank. But I glanced at Bear, his hot eyes already on me… his lips next.
“Gotta go, bye, mom.”
Let Huntley look. I wasn’t his anymore. “Babe?” Bear drew me back into his arms… the smell of percolating coffee was already wafting up the stairs.
“We can’t” I giggled, slipping out of bed. Tonight is the big fundraiser. I need to start getting ready.
“I hate the holidays,” he muttered.
“I’ll make it up to you later,”I winked before shutting the door to the bathroom so I could shower.
“Bear!” I shrieked as he surprised me ten minutes later with a hard smack on my ass and a steamy kiss.
“I’m out. See you later, babe.”
My body was still thrumming hours later as I replayed the last few days. I didn’t know what Christmas Day held for me this year, but I knew I was definitely on the naughty list.
The Jingle Jam started as a last-ditch effort to save the community center’s winter programming.
Now, it was turning into the event of the season, and somehow, I’d become the unofficial ringleader.
I was neck-deep in last-minute decorations, vendor check-ins, and a hundred questions from volunteers when the entertainment for the evening fell through.
Two of the band members had Covid. A sweet apology text and a shrug emoji. I stared at my phone like it had personally betrayed me.
Margie stood nearby, arms crossed, tapping her foot. “Well?”
“I’m calling in reinforcements,” I muttered.
I dialed Jinx.
“Sup, sugarplum?”
“I need a Christmas miracle. I need the MC band tonight at the Community Center Jingle Jam.”
“You talkin’ about our rowdy-ass clubhouse band? With Pico on drums and Bear on guitar? I mean— I can do a badass lead vocal…”
“Yes. That one.”
He whistled. “You want the Outlaws performing at a town fundraiser?”
“I’m desperate.”
He laughed. “You got it. Tell Bear it was your idea. He’ll say no, but we’ll show up anyway.”
I hung up, heart racing, half from nerves and half from knowing what kind of stir this was going to cause.
By five o’clock, the community center was buzzing like a kicked beehive. Word had spread faster than fire on dry pine — the Appalachian Outlaws were performing. In leather kuttes.
Every woman in town, single or married, had pulled out the stops. High boots. Red lips. Lashes you could land planes on. The energy was electric, the kind of giddy chaos that usually precedes prom or a bachelorette weekend. Except this was our town’s version of a rock concert.
I upped the cover charge to twenty dollars at the door.
People still lined up around the block.
Caroline showed up right as I was lighting the candles on the tables.
“Holy. Hell.” She looked around, wide-eyed. “This is a fundraiser?”
I grinned. “You’re just in time.”
She wore black suede boots, a short holiday green dress with a plunging neckline, and that glint in her eye that meant she was up to no good.
“Which one is Jinx?”
I pointed.
“Perfect.”
I ducked into the office-slash-dressing room to change.
I pulled on black faux leather jeggings that hugged every curve and slipped into a red shimmery camisole top that clung to my body like it was painted on.
I let my hair down, gave it a tousle, and added a swipe of cherry red lipstick.
I topped it all with a cropped black faux-fur vest.
Naughty elf chic.
When I stepped out, Caroline let out a low whistle. “Bear is gonna die.”
He almost did.
He was already at the front doors helping manage the line, looking stupid sexy in black jeans, his kutte, and a thermal henley that clung to his chest. When he turned and saw me, he stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes roamed over me like he was drinking me in, slow and appreciative. Then he mouthed, “Holy hell.”
Butterflies. Instant.
He made his way through the crowd, wrapped one arm around my waist, and pulled me close.
“You’re dangerous, baby,” he growled against my ear.
“And you’re late,” I teased.
He smirked. “Blame Pico. He forgot his drumsticks. Again.”
The Jingle Jam was already a success by the time the Outlaws hit the stage. Caroline was behind the raffle table, flirting outrageously with Jinx, who was eating it up like candy.
Pico had spiked the punch bowl when no one was looking. I figured it out only after half the PTA moms started dancing like they were back in college.
Bear stayed close, alternating between managing the crowd and managing me—his hands on my waist, his lips brushing my neck, his low voice promising me things that made my thighs press together.
I was supposed to be working.
But damn, he made it hard to focus.
He caught me staring during the band’s second set—him on rhythm guitar, looking like he’d been born on stage, rough and effortless.
He winked. My knees nearly buckled.
I tried to hide in the kitchen for five minutes of peace, but the matriarch of the women’s club found me.
“Young lady,” she said, pointing her cane at me. “This is the best fundraiser this town has seen in twenty years.”
“Uh… thank you?”
“I’m offering you the job. Permanent. Full-time. Director of Events. The center needs life, and you’ve got it.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“You’re ours now.”
Then she waddled off like she’d just declared me mayor.
By ten p.m., the band was winding down. The crowd thinned. Couples danced. Kids napped in corners. Someone handed me a spiked eggnog. I found Bear leaning against the wall near the mistletoe.
He pulled me in close.
“You saved the night,” he said, brushing a kiss along my jaw. “Didn’t know my girl was a miracle worker.”
“Didn’t know my guy was a rock star.”
His lips found mine, slow and deep, right under the mistletoe. I felt his hand press against the small of my back, grounding me in the middle of this glittering, chaotic, perfect night.
“Let’s get outta here,” he whispered.
“I can’t,” I sighed. “I’m the boss now.”
“Damn right you are.” He kissed me again. “Still gonna steal you away later. Just so you know.”
I grinned. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart, baby.”
And he did.
Later that night, when the halls were dark and the decorations dimmed, he found me alone in the office, unzipping my boots. My feet just needed a minute.
He closed the door, locked it, and kissed me so hard my back hit the desk. “We can’t here.” I giggled.
“Yes, baby, we can. Remember that night at Margies, out back in the snow? You came so hard at the thrill of maybe getting caught?” His lips skimmed my neck and his hands were parting my thighs so he could step between.
“Yesss,” I groaned as his hands snaked under my camisole. But then my walkie talkie chirped. “Back to work, big guy,” I kissed him hard on the lips, my hand cupping his beard. “I’ll see you later on the dance floor.”
“Fine,” he huffed. “But I’m gonna need a minute here.”
I blew him a kiss as I redid my boots and sashayed out.
It was the best damn Jingle Jam this town had ever seen.
And it wasn’t over yet.
Then, right before the final song of the night, Jinx stepped up to the mic.
“I wanna dedicate this last song to a very special lady in the crowd. I happen to know this is her favorite.”
The band struck up “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”
Bear pulled me into his arms before I could even react.
“Dance with me, baby.”
We swayed, surrounded by twinkling lights and the sound of laughter, lost in each other. I rested my cheek to his chest, his hand warm on the small of my back, and for a moment, nothing else existed.
After the last chord faded and applause broke out, Caroline practically skipped up to Bear. “You must be the infamous Bear. I’m Caroline. Becca’s best friend, partner in crime, keeper of secrets, and now your biggest fan.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That right?”
Before he could say more, Jinx dragged Caroline under the mistletoe and kissed her so hard she squeaked. Cheers went up.
Pico banged his beer bottle on a table. “After party at Margie’s!”
Margie flushed. “Oh, my…”
But I could tell she loved it. Loved all of it. The noise, the mess, the life. After years of sitting out, she was finally living again.
And so was I.
Margie looked stunned, then laughed, cheeks flushed. "I swear, I’ve been sitting life out for years. And then you people showed up."
I wrapped my arms around her. "This is the Christmas we all needed."
Back at the house, the chaos mellowed. Everyone warm, tipsy, tangled up in laughter and leftover cookies.
Margie pulled me aside at one point and said quietly, "I was so lonely, Becca. I didn’t even realize how much. This... this is the first time I’ve felt alive in years. Thank you."
I hugged her tight.
Later, after everyone had crashed in various corners of the house, I pulled Bear aside.
"I want you to come for Christmas," I said, nerves fluttering. "Mom is bringing Stanley and Ray… And I... I want you there."
He stiffened.
"Hey," I said. "What is it?"
He looked at me, eyes dark. "Nothing. It’s just... the holidays. Family. That’s not usually my thing."
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but it stung a little.
Before I could say more, he grabbed my face in both hands and kissed me so fiercely I forgot my name.
Then he smacked me playfully on the butt. "Good night, baby."
I laughed, breathless. “You want me to come home with you, don't you?"
"Always."
"But Caroline's here, and Margie says there's not enough room—“
He nodded. "Tomorrow, then. I’ll take you both up the mountain on the snowmobiles. You’ll love it."
I smiled. Tomorrow sounded perfect.