A Mate For The Bear: BBW Paranormal Alpha Shifter Romance (Bear Brides Book 4) by Natalie Kristen Page A
Authors: Natalie Kristen
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pulled him down and
kissed him. “I'm so glad it's you, DJ. I love you,” she
whispered.
They made love again,
sweetly, lovingly, their bodies moving and pulsing in time to their
matching heartbeats.
Joyce had never truly
believed in the notion of soul mates. But now, as she took Dalton
deep into her body and felt his heart beating against hers, she
couldn't help marveling at how well they fitted together. Dalton had
been her friend before he was her lover. He had been there for her
when no one else would stand by her. Joyce's breath caught when she
realized that she loved him even before she met him.
They were more than friends,
more than lovers. They were two halves of a whole, two hearts
finding each other in the dark and becoming one at last.
“You...are my love,”
she whispered against his lips. “My mate.”
CHAPTER
TEN
Joyce cleared away the coffee
cups and breakfast plates from the table. There was a smile playing
on her lips as she remembered the night and the morning she'd spent
with Dalton.
After working up a huge,
healthy appetite with a night of sensual pleasure and passion, they'd
padded downstairs about an hour before dawn feeling peckish. It was
still dark outside, but Dalton's kitchen was warm and bright. The
golden glow in the kitchen could be from the pretty ceiling light, or
perhaps her world just seemed better and brighter now that Dalton was
in it.
They had worked seamlessly as
a team getting breakfast ready. As she put on the coffee pot and
pulled out eggs and sausages from the fridge, Dalton got to work
making his famous buttered toast. Even before the sun was up, they
were already enjoying a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages
and toast. When they finished eating, they sat at the dining table
with their big mugs of coffee and just talked. They told each other
about their past, their dreams, hopes and fears. They opened their
hearts wide and let the other in. There was no holding back, no
hiding. They easily picked up the threads of their online
conversations and it was like chatting and catching up with an old
friend. It was really, really nice. Easy, relaxed and honest.
As the sun came up, Joyce
watched the morning sunlight play on the light brown streaks in
Dalton's tousled hair. Her breath hitched when he looked up and
smiled at her.
He was the most wonderful
person she knew, and he was everything to her.
Dalton had left the house at
around eight. He had given her a quick, sweet kiss at the door. “I
love you,” he murmured into her hair. He smiled down at her,
his eyes sparkling with joy. “Before you came, this house,”
he gestured at his big bungalow. “...was just a house, but
now, it's a home. It's our home.”
Joyce waved until his pickup
truck was out of sight. For work, Dalton usually drove his trusty,
old pickup truck. It would be out of place and downright silly to
drive the Jaguar to a landscaping work site.
Joyce closed the automatic
gates and started her chores around the house. The hours passed
quickly, and she found herself whistling and humming while she
worked. She liked keeping house, and even during her brief, troubled
marriage to Felix, she had tried her best to make their tiny rented
house as cozy and homely as possible. But one person did not quite
make a home. And in that marriage, only one person was putting in
the effort, doing all the work and fighting to keep the marriage
afloat. It takes two hands to clap. Joyce paused and leaned against
the mop, squinting at her reflection in the shiny marble floor. She
was reminded of a Zen question she'd once heard but never really
understood: What is the sound of one hand clapping?
“One hand clapping
isn't a clap,” she huffed and said aloud to her reflection.
“It's a slap!”
Joyce grabbed the mop and was
about to start on the stairs when the doorbell rang once.
She went to peer out the
window and saw a man with a big parcel in his arms at the gate. The
man was in blue overalls and a cap was
kissed him. “I'm so glad it's you, DJ. I love you,” she
whispered.
They made love again,
sweetly, lovingly, their bodies moving and pulsing in time to their
matching heartbeats.
Joyce had never truly
believed in the notion of soul mates. But now, as she took Dalton
deep into her body and felt his heart beating against hers, she
couldn't help marveling at how well they fitted together. Dalton had
been her friend before he was her lover. He had been there for her
when no one else would stand by her. Joyce's breath caught when she
realized that she loved him even before she met him.
They were more than friends,
more than lovers. They were two halves of a whole, two hearts
finding each other in the dark and becoming one at last.
“You...are my love,”
she whispered against his lips. “My mate.”
CHAPTER
TEN
Joyce cleared away the coffee
cups and breakfast plates from the table. There was a smile playing
on her lips as she remembered the night and the morning she'd spent
with Dalton.
After working up a huge,
healthy appetite with a night of sensual pleasure and passion, they'd
padded downstairs about an hour before dawn feeling peckish. It was
still dark outside, but Dalton's kitchen was warm and bright. The
golden glow in the kitchen could be from the pretty ceiling light, or
perhaps her world just seemed better and brighter now that Dalton was
in it.
They had worked seamlessly as
a team getting breakfast ready. As she put on the coffee pot and
pulled out eggs and sausages from the fridge, Dalton got to work
making his famous buttered toast. Even before the sun was up, they
were already enjoying a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages
and toast. When they finished eating, they sat at the dining table
with their big mugs of coffee and just talked. They told each other
about their past, their dreams, hopes and fears. They opened their
hearts wide and let the other in. There was no holding back, no
hiding. They easily picked up the threads of their online
conversations and it was like chatting and catching up with an old
friend. It was really, really nice. Easy, relaxed and honest.
As the sun came up, Joyce
watched the morning sunlight play on the light brown streaks in
Dalton's tousled hair. Her breath hitched when he looked up and
smiled at her.
He was the most wonderful
person she knew, and he was everything to her.
Dalton had left the house at
around eight. He had given her a quick, sweet kiss at the door. “I
love you,” he murmured into her hair. He smiled down at her,
his eyes sparkling with joy. “Before you came, this house,”
he gestured at his big bungalow. “...was just a house, but
now, it's a home. It's our home.”
Joyce waved until his pickup
truck was out of sight. For work, Dalton usually drove his trusty,
old pickup truck. It would be out of place and downright silly to
drive the Jaguar to a landscaping work site.
Joyce closed the automatic
gates and started her chores around the house. The hours passed
quickly, and she found herself whistling and humming while she
worked. She liked keeping house, and even during her brief, troubled
marriage to Felix, she had tried her best to make their tiny rented
house as cozy and homely as possible. But one person did not quite
make a home. And in that marriage, only one person was putting in
the effort, doing all the work and fighting to keep the marriage
afloat. It takes two hands to clap. Joyce paused and leaned against
the mop, squinting at her reflection in the shiny marble floor. She
was reminded of a Zen question she'd once heard but never really
understood: What is the sound of one hand clapping?
“One hand clapping
isn't a clap,” she huffed and said aloud to her reflection.
“It's a slap!”
Joyce grabbed the mop and was
about to start on the stairs when the doorbell rang once.
She went to peer out the
window and saw a man with a big parcel in his arms at the gate. The
man was in blue overalls and a cap was
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