Page 18 of Mated to the Mountain Bear (Bear Protector #1)

ZARA

“ O h my god, the water’s actually hot. And the tub is huge.”

The old tub is big and so deliciously deep. I sink into the hot water, finally able to wash my dull, lank hair properly.

I let out a long, contented sigh that probably carries through the thin walls, but I don’t care. That’s far from the most embarrassing thing I’ve done in the last two days.

Ben must already think I’m a weirdo. I’m sure he’s wondering when Beau is going to come and collect the far too touchy-feely, and highly inappropriate woman who’s taken over his house.

“This is heaven,” I say to myself, sliding lower in the bubbles, my voice echoing slightly in the bathroom.

The water softly splashes and laps at the side as I move, lying back even further to dunk my head and luxuriate in the glorious heat.

“Leaving some clothes outside for you,” Ben calls out with a gentle knock on the door. It feels strangely intimate, him just a thin piece of wood away, talking to me while I sit in his bath.

“Thank you, Ben,” I whisper, smiling to myself at the thoughtful gesture. Another to add to the list of considerate, kind things he’s done for me since I landed on his doorstep despite him not wanting me here at all.

I melt, letting my muscles go floppy, and allow some of the fear from the last few weeks to melt away.

I’m relaxed and safe, even if I’m making a complete tit of myself at every opportunity.

The hot water is heaven against my skin.

As I sink deeper, all the way up to my chin, I let out a groan of pure ecstasy as the heat seeps into muscles I didn’t even realise were tense.

A dark bruise covers my hip, stark evidence of how I ended up here, and that the break-in really happened. My feet are still scraped but healing fast, and no longer sore to walk on. And right now, in this moment, I feel safe.

Because of him. Tall, dark, grumpy Ben Lennox. With abs to die for and a way of glaring at me that turns me into a rambling idiot.

Good. This is... so… good. I moan loudly, swishing my hands back and forth across the water, pausing when I hear a noise from outside the door.

“Ben? Is that you?”

A faint shadow moves as he steps back. His voice is rough when he clears his throat and speaks. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

That deep voice does something to me.

I close my eyes and rest my head back, letting my mind drift. Except the only place it wants to return to, over and over, is thoughts of Ben. And more than anything, his smell. The way it curls around me and makes my insides coil up tightly.

I moan again and clench my core to ease the ache building there. Maybe there’s something wrong with me? I need to see a doctor when I get home. Or maybe, this is what it feels like to really fancy someone.

Ben is nothing like the pretty actor types Amber dates, and who occasionally deign to speak to me. In comparison, they’re mere boys. I bet none of them can fix a water heater. Or cook food so good, it makes a woman lose her damn mind and start licking people.

This is why I’ve never reacted to someone like this before. It’s not that I have no sex drive; it’s that my body knows what it likes and what it doesn’t. And part of my brain knew that men like Ben existed somewhere, and that’s what I needed to bring my non-existent libido to life.

Watching a grumpy mountain man, who barely talks, while he fixes things, is my weakness. Is DIY porn a thing? Where you just enjoy the sight of handsome, capable men fixing things? If it isn’t, it should be.

“Calm down,” I reprimand myself.

He’s looked shocked and appalled every time I’ve touched him so far. I should probably take the hint and concentrate on getting through the next few days without making a fool of myself.

Scratch that. More of a fool of myself.

Sighing, I grab the bar of soap, the one that smells like Ben, and wash my body, letting my hands roam once more, lazily making circles around my already swollen clit. I lift one arm out of the water and watch droplets run down skin that’s already turning pink from the heat.

Heaven.

An image of Ben leaning over the tub, one hand on either side, staring down at me, flashes unbidden into my mind, and my heart skips a beat. How nice would that be? I bet he’d be thorough. He doesn’t strike me as a man who’d leave a job unfinished.

Pressing my thighs together, I stifle a frustrated moan as I imagine him kneeling down, parting my legs, and…

I cover my eyes and let my head fall back against the curved white porcelain edge as steam rises around me, fogging the small bathroom window.

Oh, I’ve got it bad. Maybe this is some kind of trauma response. I’ll have to look that up when I get back. A sudden desire to distract yourself from your actual problems with sex and food and daydreaming about getting felt up in a bathtub.

But then, as I peek out between my fingers, something catches my eye, and my moment of self-pitying is over.

A shadow at the window that doesn’t match the swaying branches brings reality crashing back. Just because I’m far away, doesn’t mean I should assume I’m safe.

I’m a fool.

My heart stutters as I sit up slowly, water sloshing gently against the sides of the tub when I move. My fingers grip the slippery edge. There’s definitely something out there.

The shadow moves again. Closer. Blocking more of the light filtering through the fogged glass. It’s solid. Not leaves. Not a branch. And not something being blown by the wind.

My pulse pounds in my ears.

He found me. Somehow, he found me, even here.

The shadow shifts suddenly, pressing hard against the window. Blue eyes stare directly at me through the steam.

I’m naked. In a tub. And he’s looking right at me from only a few feet away.

A wild scream tears out of me before I can stop it. Pure terror, echoing off the bathroom walls.

I scoot back as far as I can, desperately reaching for a towel on the far wall. It’s too far away from me yet too close to the window where my tormentor continues to stare, unmoving.

“Ben,” I call frantically. “BEN.”

Heavy footsteps pound down the hall, and the bathroom door slams open, so hard, it bounces off the wall with a crack.

Ben fills the doorframe, shoulders squared, and fists clenched, looking ready for war. His eyes scan the small space in one swift motion before landing on me.

I’m sitting in the tub, soaped up and dripping wet, and completely exposed, with one hand between my thighs and another across my chest for modesty. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. His dark eyes travel over me, taking in everything.

But now is not the time.

“Window.” I gasp, pointing with a shaking hand, before immediately re-covering my boobs. “Someone’s at the window.”

He steps in front of me, muscles coiled for action, and feet spread, ready to fight. Then his shoulders drop slightly. The tension doesn’t leave his body, but it morphs into annoyance rather than red-hot fury.

“Jerry,” he snaps, voice strained and rough. He moves to the window and bangs hard on the glass. “Goddamn it, Jerry.”

The blue eyes jerk back, tilting to the side in confusion. The glass clears, revealing a wet pink nose and grey fluffy ears. Ben glares out the window, his muscular back rising as he takes a deep breath to calm himself, pointing a finger away from the cabin in warning.

The white and grey head tips back and responds, then a loud, indignant bark fills the air.

“Just come around. Damn stupid dog.”

Jerry barks again, unhappy with the slur. After making his point, he dashes away, barking as he goes.

“A dog?” I whisper.

Ben nods back, broad shoulders rising and falling with each adrenaline-filled pant.

“That’s not a dog. That’s a horse.” My voice comes out higher than intended, with a wobble I can’t hide.

“A giant pain in the ass, that’s what he is,” Ben mutters, then moves in three quick strides to the towel rack, grabs a towel, and offers it to me without looking in my direction. “I’m so sorry. He has no fucking manners.”

“Your dog?” I’m shaking as I reach for the towel, then wrap it around myself with trembling hands as I stand, then tuck it under my arms. “It’s just a dog,” I repeat to myself, willing my frantic nervous system to calm down.

“I should have warned you about him.” Ben’s back is to me now, waiting for me to be decent before he turns around, but his fists clench and unclench at his sides, knuckles white. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little shaken.” That’s an understatement. I thought he’d found me. My heart is beating so hard, I think it’s going to come out of my chest. As I try to step out of the tub, my foot slips on the wet porcelain.

Ben moves like lightning, spinning around and catching my arm to steady me. His other hand goes to my waist, fingers spanning across the towel before curling to hold on tightly. His touch burns, even through the thick fabric, as I blink up at him, startled.

“Careful.” The word comes out gruff and ragged, but his hands are gentle.

I nod as he helps me step onto the bath mat but doesn’t immediately let go. His thumb strokes my arm, over a scratch that lingers there from my fall, and makes tiny back-and-forth movements that have my heart racing, before he seems to realise what he’s doing and pulls back.

“Jerry wanders. I don’t know if I can really call him mine.” He explains, still not looking at me directly, his gaze fixed politely somewhere over my shoulder. “He’s more of a frequent houseguest.”

Jerry’s nose bumps the glass again, leaving another wet smudge, which I now think is adorable instead of terrifying.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up inside me. I press my hand to my heart, shoulders shaking. Could my life get any more ridiculous? I’m a nervous wreck.

“He scared the hell out of me.”

His distant barks filter through from outside, but Ben is in no rush to let him in.