Bear No Loss: BBW Werebear Mail-Order Bride Hockey Romance (Puck Bear Brides Book 2) Read online

  BEAR NO LOSS

  PUCK BEAR BRIDES

  BOOK 2

  BY

  ANYA NOWLAN

  A LITTLE TASTE…

  “Speakin’ of which, I see somethin’ that I want, too,” he said, his voice almost a purr as he leaned over across the arms of the chairs and caught her lips in a kiss, the first one they’d shared since the night in Cheyenne.

  She gasped as their lips brushed together and it was a sweet sound, making Memphis cup her chin with his other hand and draw her nearer for that lingering taste, his tongue slowly pushing into her mouth and twisting against hers. When they broke the kiss, both of them were breathing a little bit harder, and April’s gorgeous eyes shined with the same kind of unashamed desire that he’d seen in them the first night.

  But this time it wasn’t just something that had the makings of a one-night stand, something simple and easy. No, this time Memphis was gambling with his heart, and he hoped she was as well. Because one thing was for certain, he had already lost his to April, even if he didn’t admit it yet.

  You’ve gotten yourself in deep, Memphis, he thought with a grin.

  He couldn’t have been gladder for it.

  Copyright © 2016 Anya Nowlan

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Bear No Loss

  Puck Bear Brides

  Book 2

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use. This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Anya Nowlan. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Cover © Jack of Covers

  You can find all of my books here:

  Amazon Author Page

  www.anyanowlan.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  A LITTLE TASTE…

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  A BEAR GOAL EXCERPT

  WANT MORE?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Memphis

  “Oh my God! Don’t stop!” she wheezed as she twisted underneath his arms, Memphis’s strong palms pressed down on her hips as he lapped a trail down her inner thigh and nipped at her delicate skin a few times with his teeth.

  The squeal of approval made him growl, a throaty, needy sound that had to resonate through her considering the mewl she let out. He retraced his path back to her wet slit, the gorgeous redhead shuddering like a leaf as he leaned in slightly. He exhaled slowly, hot breath tingling across her skin and there was nothing quite as delicious as the way her back arched and her thighs clenched at the teasing.

  Memphis couldn’t help but grin, flicking his stormy gray gaze up to meet her hazel eyes—what was her name again? Amy? Alys? April?—before letting his tongue roll up over her pussy and curl around her clit. She smelled like spring.

  April. That’s it, he remembered with some obvious satisfaction, smiling privately as he sucked her clit between his lips, making her toss and turn like she was about to explode into a million pieces right under his fingertips.

  Her nails scraped against his scalp, curling around his blond hair, and he didn’t mind it one bit. Everything about this woman so far had been just right. From how she’d gotten so cutely flustered when he’d bought her a drink down at the bar in downtown Cheyenne, to how she’d blushed when he told her she was beautiful, to how she became this moaning little wildcat when he had two fingers up her pussy and his lips on her pale, blemish-free skin.

  His kind of woman, through and through. A lady in the street and the exact opposite in bed.

  I should come to Cheyenne more often, he thought almost languidly as she jolted upright, her body tensing and her eyes wild as he thrust two fingers inside of her again, twisting them and watching with warm amusement as her eyes rolled back in her head in response to it.

  “Don’t… stop…” she hissed, her hands clutching at the sheets now and her skin dappled with sweat.

  He could feel her pulsing around his fingers and there wasn’t a force on Earth that could have made him stop. Hovering over her on his knees, on top of her frilly, flowery covers, with her pleasure completely controlled by his fingertips, was exactly where Memphis Corley wanted to be. It was made better by the fact that she had no idea who he was.

  “I don’t intend to, sugar,” he said, his voice a deep, languid murmur—a gift of his Southern upbringing. “Not before you cum for me again.”

  He hadn’t even gotten to shucking off his jeans, though they’d been in her apartment for more than an hour now, easily. It was so hard to focus on his own damn pleasure when at first she’d clung to him like he was some sort of an anchor in a stormy sea when he kissed her neck and then her nipples while fingering her, and then of course now… well, look at her.

  Gorgeous. Mesmerizing. Hot as fuck, which was some sort of an accomplishment in frigid Wyoming in the middle of January. How could he not want to get her off again and again, especially when it meant she’d make those loud, high-pitched squeals of hers that left him snarling like a hungry beast, wanting to distill them in him?

  There was just no way. He had to see her cum again.

  “Relax, sugar,” he said, almost a purr, which for a polar bear shifter was an accomplishment in itself.

  “You’re not making it very easy,” April protested with a half-smile, one he met with a grin as he scooted up off of his elbow.

  His fingers pumped in and out of her slower now, the rough pad of his thumb flicking over her clit in maddening, tight circles as he kissed her stomach, her generous breasts, her neck, and finally her chin, coming face-to-face with her. April’s mouth was slightly open, her pink lips plump from a violent makeout session in the cab and then on their way from the front door to the bedroom, and her eyes were hazy with lust.

  If I could see her like this every day for the rest of my life, I’d be one lucky man, he thought, the notion coming out of thin air and smacking him over the head like a mallet.

  For a second, his hand froze in place and his eyes filled with surprise. Memphis Corley was no one-woman bear. Not by a long shot. A guy with a scar on almost every square inch of his body, plenty of tattoos to denote both good and bad decisions in his life, and a crooked grin that could only spell trouble, he was just not the kind of guy to think about settling down. Not with anyone. Certainly not with some girl he just met.

  And yet, here he was, knuckles-deep inside of her and still not getting enough of her.

  “What is it?” April sputtered, catching her lip in the most adorable way for a moment as her chest heaved heavily.

  “Nothin’,” he muttered, conjuring a smirk on his lips, though claiming that he wasn’t a tiny bit rattled by that left-field thought would have been a wild and inaccurate statement.

  Instead of thinking about it some more, he went in for a kiss, pulling April to him by the back of her neck
and crushing his lips against hers. His tongue snaked inside of her mouth and he held her in the kiss as he plowed his thick fingers inside of her tight pussy again, every motion making a satisfying wet sound as she pooled around him.

  Immediately, the small tremors that he’d so enjoyed before started up again and April caught him by the arm with one hand, holding on tight as she breathed quick and short breaths. Her body twisted both against him and away, but Memphis wouldn’t let her wander too far.

  “Cum for me, sugar,” he said, capturing her lower lip for the slightest second and pressing down hard enough to make her yelp but not to hurt her more than that.

  When he kissed her again, feeling the strain of his rigid cock against the front of his jeans, she finally gave him what he’d wanted to see again. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, starting to throb as her muscles tightened and her breathing turned into one, drawn-out scream that Memphis muffled with his mouth, a smile perpetually tugging at his lips.

  “That’s it,” he said softly, not ceasing the way he pounded into her, but leaving his thumb to taunt her clit less now as he eased her down, letting her back fall on the covers.

  He maneuvered himself next to her, propping his chin on his hand as he watched her slowly thrum down from her orgasm, her voluptuous, curvy body like honey to him—irresistible. Without thinking much of it, he dipped his head to slink the tip of his tongue around her ear, slipping it along the delicate skin behind it and being rewarded with a fluttery gasp in return.

  “That tickles!” she said, half in protest and half in encouragement, or that was at least how Memphis chose to hear it.

  Slowly, he pulled his fingers from her, though he pressed them against her swollen lips and let them graze along the softness of her belly and then up between her breasts before bringing them to his mouth. He cleaned them off like she was the best thing he’d tasted in a long time—and truth be told, she was—all the while aware that she was staring up at him with a mixture of surprise and good old-fashioned lust.

  “So you’re ticklish. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle, letting his hand rest on her stomach now, his big palm flat over it.

  She was no small woman, with lush thighs and an ass that he could hold onto, and he would have been lying if he said that it wasn’t the first thing that drew him to her. But he’d stayed past the first drink because she was a combination of sweet and sassy and seemed completely oblivious to all the moves that usually worked in his favor. She’d barely even given him a look when he dropped his name, something that usually was followed by fawning gasps and women hooking themselves to him like he was the new coming of no-cal ice cream.

  Memphis Corley, one of the best shutdown defensemen in all of the National Shifter Hockey League, had never been shy about using his considerable name recognition in his favor, and with this girl he’d been glad to find that it barely impressed her at all. A bear could only deal with so many puck bunnies before getting his full of them, after all.

  The only thing she’d mentioned after they’d briefly discussed why he was in Cheyenne—which was for training camp—was that her roommate was a big Chicago Bluehawks fan and apparently had a little crush on him. Memphis had stated that he would prefer April to have the crush, but you couldn’t win them all. She’d grinned. He’d patted himself on the back for a good comeback.

  “Keep it in mind for what?” she asked, quirking a brow at him.

  “For later, obviously.”

  “Later? I don’t think my body could take a later,” she admitted with a smile that just about swept him off his feet.

  Good thing he was lying down.

  “Oh, I can make you want later,” he said, stealing a kiss from her lips.

  The whimper she let out as she kissed him back made his fingers curl against her tighter, pulling her to him. It was late as hell, and he was supposed to be back in the hotel sleeping so he’d be ready to climb on the bus the next morning and start the hellishly long trip back to Shifter Grove, Idaho, but as far as Memphis was concerned, April was worth at least one sleepless night.

  Frankly, he was pretty sure that if he didn’t get to fuck her really soon, he might just lose what bit of sanity that hadn’t been pounded out of him by choosing professional hockey as a career path.

  Things were just getting interesting, with his palm cupping her heavy breast and his thigh shoved between her legs, April writhing beneath him as they made out, when a sudden crash somewhere in the apartment made April scramble out from underneath him.

  “Shit,” she whispered, practically throwing herself out of the bed as she dove for a bathrobe. “You’ve got to get out of here, now!”

  April tossed him his shirt as she rushed to the door leading into her small bedroom, hitting the lock just as a hand fell on the handle.

  “April? What’s going on?” a slightly muddled female voice called, knocking on the door. “Let me in! I have vodka and gossip!”

  “Why? What’s going on? Jealous girlfriend?” Memphis questioned with a frown, peeling himself off her bed more than a little bit reluctantly as he pulled on his shirt.

  They’d never gotten through undressing at the front door so his boots and jacket had made it to the bedroom as well.

  “No, just… it’s the roommate I was telling you about,” April said, her cheeks lit with a blush that had to be equal parts mortification and the aftermath of his talented fingers. “She’ll kill me if she finds out I had you here. Just… you need to go. We have a pact... no men in the apartment and… ugh.”

  April pulled a hand through her hair and Memphis shoved his feet into the boots, adjusting his cock in his pants and cringing through the process. He shrugged on his jacket while the mysterious roommate pounded on the door again, her voice getting whiny now.

  “Apriiiil!”

  “In a minute, Nicky!” April called back, flustered.

  Memphis caught her in his arms and pulled her close for a moment, kissing her on the mouth as if he had all the time in the world. He was pretty sure he could scare the living hell out of any fangirl with one well-placed growl, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to go against a woman’s wishes. Even though every fiber in his body wanted to toss April back on the bed and fuck her so hard she’d forget all about any lost sense of morality she might have had.

  “I wanna see you again,” he said, keeping his voice as quiet as he could.

  “You’re leaving tomorrow though, right?” April asked, though he caught the hint of a smile that crossed her expression when he said it.

  “I am. But we have games all over the place. I’ll send you tickets,” he said with a grin, squeezing her for a moment before letting her go. No way was he done with her yet, which was another surprising change to his usual modus operandi. “Now, how am I supposed to get out of here?”

  “Window. Fire escape,” April said, her sense of urgency returning as she ran past the bed and opened the window up as wide as it would go, motioning toward a rickety fire escape ladder outside.

  Memphis looked at the ladder dubiously, glancing from her to the window, before shrugging his shoulders slightly and squeezing through it and into the chill of the winter night.

  “You’re gonna show up, right? You wouldn’t leave a guy out in the cold, Miss April, now would you?” he asked, waggling his brows at her.

  “Just get out of here,” she laughed, but she leaned out of the window for a second to plant a kiss on his lips before slamming the window shut and scooting to the door again.

  Memphis shook his head with a sigh, beginning his descent from the third floor, with his dick still hard and his mind revolving very pointedly around the pretty little thing he’d had in his arms a minute ago. And how she wasn’t there anymore and how that bothered him like nothing else could.

  You must be getting old, Memphis, he mused wryly as he dropped down the last ten or so rungs on the ladder, the snow squelching under his boots.

  But that didn’t make him want to see her again an
y less.

  CHAPTER TWO

  April

  “April! What is this bullshit that I’m reading?” Sally Tarley called from across the hall, rousing April from her seat like a bullet to the brain.

  She’d just been daydreaming of a very long, very detailed scene involving her favorite polar bear hockey player, who hadn’t stopped popping up in her thoughts every chance he got lately.

  “Oh, someone’s in trouble,” Nicky commented with a sly grin, which looked a little bit too eager to see April get reamed by her boss.

  “Coming, Sally!” April shot back, grabbing her pocketbook from the desk and running into Sally’s office.

  “Close the door, April,” Sally said with a sigh that verged on exasperated, throwing her a look that was all vinegar.

  April complied with a frown, closing the door that was usually kept open and sinking into a chair across from Sally with a very pronounced feeling of dread. Tarley Events was one of the biggest event-organizing and marketing firms in all of Cheyenne, specializing in lavish affairs that usually ended with at least some B- or C-lister drinking too much champagne and making an ass out of themselves in front of clamoring paparazzi.

  As much as April would have wanted to claim that to not be the fault of the company, she knew that Sally Tarley didn’t shy away from anything to get a good buzz going for her events. More than once, April had found herself doing things she didn’t quite find palatable because of it. It didn’t help much that her heart wasn’t entirely in it when it came to her current employment, but that didn’t make Sally’s foul moods any easier to bear.

  “What’s wrong?” April asked, flipping open her notebook and finding a page that wasn’t filled with scribbles of that one novel she dreamed of writing but by the looks of things would never get to.

  “I was going over the marketing drafts you made for the next St Paddy’s Day Ball and I have to say, this shit is atrocious! Please stop thinking that you’re some writing savant here. I don’t need a thousand words on why someone should go to the event, I need taglines! Catchy! Punchy! In your face! Not this… whatever this is,” Sally said, holding up April’s carefully organized proposals in a misshapen heap in her hand.