Bearly Camping by Lynn Katzenmeyer

Author:Lynn Katzenmeyer [Katzenmeyer, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2020-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I woke up to the sound and smell of bacon cooking.

My eyes flew open to an unfamiliar room that reeked of sex, and now, bacon. Oh god, I had sex with Ebsen. And oh lordy, it was so good.

I sat up, I was in his bed, the quilt from the night before was on the floor next to scraps of what had been my underwear. Sun streamed through patchy plaid curtains covering a window in the door. I could see an open-door hinting at a bathroom. I slid out of the bed and ran in.

My legs were sore and there were small purple bruises on my hips from where Ebsen had grabbed them the night before. A different kind of soreness but pleasing all the same. I used the facilities and washed myself as best I could in the sink. I didn’t want to presume I could use his shower. It was bad enough that I had slept over without asking.

I cracked open the bathroom door and saw the flannel shirt Ebsen had been wearing the night before. I slid it over me, groaning when I remembered he’d ripped it off, so it only had two buttons left. I swam in the shirt but was covered enough to suit me.

Ebsen stood in the kitchen, his back to me. At some point between when I fell asleep and now, he’d found a pair of green plaid boxers. His foot was tapping as he hummed a 50s style dance song to himself. He moved a stack of bacon from the pan onto a plate already heaping with bacon. His shaggy hair was mussed from sleep and his back had sprinkles of the tawny hair that carpeted his front. He was adorable.

I should have taken him up on his offer to bed me sooner. I thought as I walked up behind him and stole a piece of bacon from the plate.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” I said, taking a bite. I couldn’t contain my groan. This was the best tasting bacon I’d ever eaten.

“Good morning, Ranger Ebsen,” Ebsen mimicked my voice, “Thank you so much for fucking me senseless when I could hardly contain my slattern ways.”

I snorted, “Slattern? What are you a hundred and eighty?”

He winked, “No, shifters age just like humans, thank you very much. I just happen to be cultured.”

He motioned with his spatula to a small table with two place settings, a massive stack of pancakes, a pile of sausage and two glasses of orange juice.

I was surprised by the spread. My stomach gurgled, betraying any chance of denying my hunger.

“You’re cute in my shirt, Firebug,” Ebsen purred as I walked to the table. He fished more bacon out of the skillet and brought the plate over.

I blushed but put a short stack of pancakes on my plate.

“Try them with honey,” Ebsen offered, sitting in the chair opposite me.

“You cook breakfast for all your conquests?” I asked with a playful smirk finding the honey as he’d suggested.

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