Sawman Werebear (Saw Bears #4) by T. S. Joyce

don’t.”
    “You’re not playing fair.”
    Brighton knelt down and pulled her jeans to her ankles, then steadied her as she stepped out of them. Slowly, his eyes looking up at hers, he leaned forward and grazed his teeth against her bare thigh, then kissed her skin, drawing up gooseflesh where his lips touched her.
    “I’m going to kill the man who hurt you,” he whispered, promise in his voice.
    She believed him. After seeing his terrifying animal, she knew he was capable of dark deeds.
    “I like the way you look,” he said, drawing his hand up the back of her knee.
    “Even when I’m too skinny?” she challenged him, throwing his words back at him.
    He stood, then brushed his lips against her neck. “When you let your bear out, she’ll let you eat again like you need to.”
    Her breath was coming in fast, shallow pants now as she reveled in the feel of his beard against the sensitive skin of her throat.
    “Inhale deeply,” he demanded. “You smell that? The bitter scent is your fear. Fear the man who claimed you has caused. The heady scent, though, that’s arousal. Yours and mine.”
    “Yours?” she squeaked out.
    He slid his fingers down to her wrist, then placed her hand against his rigid erection that pressed against the seam of his jeans.
    “Whoever said you were a plain Jane is blind. You aren’t plain to me. You’re beautiful.”
    His bicep flexed as he dragged her hand up the length of him. Her breath stuttered as she imagined how much pain his thickness would cause her. Confusion swirled inside of her. Fear overpowered desire, and she took a step back, clenched her hands by her side, and hated herself for being so bad at this.
    “I don’t think I’m ready for this,” she murmured, eyes on the ground as shame burned up her neck.
    “Good,” he whispered, feet planted right where they’d been.
    “Good?” She looked up, the frown on her face so deep, her forehead ached.
    “This will work best if you can verbalize what you do and don’t want me to do. What you are and aren’t ready for.”
    “And what is the this you’re talking about?”
    “I told you. I’m going to make you better. I think you can’t shift because of several reasons, but the big one is that your bear was born during trauma. And next, I think she’s submissive. Really submissive. I think you need to lighten that bag full of demons you’re carrying around before she’ll force her way out of you.”
    “That sounds painful.”
    He made an anguished expression as he swallowed, then forced his whisper again. “Which part? Dealing with your demons or your bear forcing her way out of you?”
    “Both.”
    His smile was nothing shy of sympathetic. “I know you can do it.”
    And that right there was the most important six words she’d ever heard. She didn’t know everything about Brighton, not yet. But now she knew enough. He was a good man. Trustworthy. Brighton wouldn’t hurt her.
    “Connor Crane bit me.” It was the first time she’d uttered his name aloud since it had happened.
    Brighton froze, his eyes going wide. “Connor?”
    “I know you know him because he was with you that night at Sammy’s Bar, and he came in with you to eat at Boomer’s the second time I saw you.”
    Brighton backed up a step, shaking his head slowly. “No,” he whispered. Agony in his eyes, he sat heavily into his chair and looked up at her.
    Get rid of her demons, Brighton had told her. Well, Connor was the biggest demon in her life. She sat on the edge of the rocking chair seat and clasped her hands in her lap. The chilly air bit into her skin, but she didn’t care about that now. Red, hot fury was creeping over her just thinking about the humiliation Connor had put her through.
    “Momma said my virginity was the only thing that would secure me a marriage someday, on account of my unsightly face and twig legs. She hits the bottle, and then she makes jokes about me, and it was the same a couple of days before I went to see