A Taste of Honeybear Wine (BBW Bear Shifter Standalone Romance Novel) (Bearfield Book 2) by Jacqueline Sweet & Eva Wilder

Author:Jacqueline Sweet & Eva Wilder [Sweet, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance
Publisher: Guilty Treasures Press
Published: 2015-06-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Bearly Keeping Their Pants On

Alison’s forehead itched where the queen had kissed her. They’d been out of the citadel two hours, making their way through disused paths more suitable for deer than people. Or whatever Michael was. Thinking about the cold burning itch where the queen’s lips had touched her, or the soreness in her neck where the crazy bitch had grabbed her kept her distracted from the elephant in the room.

She was Michael’s mate.

The queen had said it and Michael had agreed, but there was no way Alison could talk about it. How do you bring something like that up? How do you make room for it in your heart? Shouldn’t they, like, date or have at least one meal together? She lived with Drew for years before the idea of marriage became a possibility. She’d known Michael for what, a day? It was impossible.

And yet.

She wanted to touch him again. The electricity that shot between them was real. The way he looked at her was very real. And the way he made her feel deep down was extremely, hotly, wetly, urgently real. She needed to touch him again. To smell him. To get naked and rub herself all over him. The heat inside her was becoming unbearable. She had a wicked sense of what it would take to quench the heat and she knew Michael would gladly give it to her, but how could she?

They were fated to be together. Alison knew the truth of the words in her blood. She’d known from the moment he touched her, even if she didn’t have the right words for it then. She wanted to ask him what it meant, to talk it over, but since leaving the Raven Queen’s Hot Topic Goth-er Than Thou Lair of Eternal Blackness and Slinky Dresses, he’d been quiet, saying only what he needed to. Michael didn’t seem mad at her, not at all. He seemed embarrassed, worried even.

The kiss burned on her forehead.

Once, as a little girl, she and her sisters had been watching that Christmas Story movie. The one with Ralphie and the parade of misfortune? There’s a scene where he dares his friend to stick his tongue to a frozen telephone pole and he does. And it sticks and hilarity ensues. Well, her older sister Diana did not believe that would happen. “No way,” she said. “That’s not how tongues work.” She was ten years Alison’s elder and to a four year old, the epitome of worldly knowledge. So when Vivian, the next oldest, decided to argue the point they decided a practical experiment was in order. The sisters went to the freezer, where their mother had approximately nine thousand cans of frozen lemonade cooling, awaiting some summer day. Alison couldn’t remember the exact details, but the sisters had talked it over and come to the conclusion that the metal lid of a can of freezer juice was the closest they could come to a wintry telephone pole and for some reason, Alison had to be the one to stick her tongue to the can.

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