Chapter Ten.

It had been two weeks since Todd had come after him. Taylor stood between the open balcony doors, watching as the sun began to rise over the white-capped mountains. Cameron had moved back home, but Sam had asked Taylor to stay and Taylor had.

"What are you doing up so early?" Sam asked as he moved in behind Taylor and wrapped his strong arms around him.

Taylor leaned back, resting his head against Sam's chest. "Couldn't sleep."

He left out the part where he tossed and turned all night because he had a hard and naked body next to him. Although Taylor had been sleeping in Sam's bed every night, the man had yet to make a move on him. Taylor wasn't sure if it was because of the recent trauma he'd been through. Maybe Sam felt that Taylor needed time.

He was tired of waiting. Taylor wanted a piece of Sam in the worst sort of way. He turned in his mate's arms and gave Sam what he hoped was a seductive look.

"Something in your eye?" Sam asked. "It keeps twitching."

Although Taylor was well versed in the art of sex-something he wasn't going to brag about-he'd never been any good at flirting. Cameron once described Taylor's attempts as resembling a nervous tic. He jerked and winked, and once some guy had mistaken Taylor's come-hither looks as a seizure.

"I'm winking at you, idiot." Taylor smacked at Sam's chest. "Don't you know flirting when you see it?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled. "But that wasn't flirting. That was a muscle spasm under your eye."

Taylor tried to pretend he was offended, but Sam's smile melted his heart. He struggled with the words, feeling his pulse skyrocket as he went over them in his head.

"What is it?" Sam asked. "You know I was only teasing you."

"I-" Taylor licked his lips and tried again. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. For not only showing me that one person can change another's outlook, but for facing off with a lunatic with a gun in order to help me retake my life. You make me want to laugh all the time. I can't stop smiling whenever I'm near you or just thinking about you. I look forward to every day and wonder what other things we can get into without doing serious bodily harm." He lowered his eyes. "I love you, Sam."

Sam cupped his cheek. "That was the most long-winded, sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." He kissed Taylor softly on the lips. "I love you, too, angel."

Sam grabbed Taylor's hand and led him back to the bed. "And let me show you what else we can get into without causing bodily harm."

Taylor shook as Sam lifted the large shirt over his head. Taylor loved sleeping in Sam's shirts and had done so every night since first moving in.

The heated breeze from the open balcony doors skimmed over Taylor as Sam lowered him to the bed. Sam moved closer until Taylor felt the warm brush of the man's chest pressed against his. Then Sam started kissing him softly, tenderly. And that's when the electrical storm moving around his body started sending all interest south.

Taylor whimpered into the man's mouth as he arched into him, his nipples brushing against a wall of hard flesh. Sam lifted Taylor's legs and pressed the blunt head of his cock against Taylor's entrance.

He'd been on the pill for two weeks. Taylor felt it safe to have unprotected sex. He wasn't going to get pregnant. Not that he'd shelved the idea, but right now both of them had issues they needed to work out.

This wasn't the first time he'd been with a bear. But it was so damn different with Sam. The man was tender, loving, and he gazed at Taylor as if he hung the moon and stars for Sam.

Taylor dug his nails into Sam's chest, breathing past the pain as Sam breached him. Sam's hips began to move, his thick length stretching Taylor wide as Sam pulled back and then thrust inside of Taylor.

Sam broke the kiss and then buried his face in Taylor's neck. "Son of a bitch," he whispered as he slid his hands under Taylor's buttocks and lifted Taylor a little higher. A rumbled growl vibrated in the shifter's chest as Sam leaned back onto his legs and stared down at Taylor. "Shit, Taylor, shit." His hands pulled free and Taylor glanced down to see Sam's hand smoothing over Taylor's stomach, and then his fingers were at Taylor's cock.

Taylor threw his head back and cried out his mate's name. That seemed to be some sort of trigger because Sam's thrusts deepened and a wild growl sounded in the room. The pressure was building. Taylor grabbed for Sam and Sam fell forward, taking Taylor's mouth, sending Taylor to the brink of madness. Taylor's legs came up and tried to wrap around Sam's waist but the man was too damn thick, so all he could do was leave them hanging on the man's hips as his mate rode him hard.

"I love you," Sam moaned. The heat built higher, hotter. Taylor's body was inflamed as they slid along each other.

"Sam." He cried the man's name. Sam glanced down at Taylor, and his expression was dark, feral, making Taylor lick his dry lips as Sam's canines slowly elongated. He was in heaven. He shook beneath his mate's hard stare, so aroused now, pushed so far past reality that he just didn't give a damn. "Bite me."

Sam grazed the points of his teeth over Taylor's shoulder and Taylor clutched the back of his head. "Do it."

"Hold on to me, angel."

Taylor's hands gripped his mate's shoulders as he felt the thick length of Sam's cock press deeper inside of his body. "Sam, please."

"I love hearing you beg." Sam's voice was strained, sounding as if he was holding on to one last thread of control.

Taylor forgot what he was thinking as the delicious burn filled him, reminding Taylor that Sam was deep inside of him. He writhed beneath the shifter as Sam leaned back, his eyes going to where their bodies were connecting.

"Looks good, doesn't it? Me sliding in and out of you like this?" he asked. Taylor looked up to see Sam watching him. They were in the throes of sex, yet he could feel his skin blushing with heat. Sam gave a soft chuckle. "So pretty."

"My body...I can't take it. Please, Sam, please." He convulsed underneath the man, fighting for release.

Sam began to fuck him with hard, deep lunges that had Taylor crying out his name as he felt each thrust stretching him, caressing him. Sam pushed him headlong into a flight to ecstasy, his cock powering into Taylor, filling him, stoking the already-blistering heat higher.

Taylor's stomach tightened, rippled, convulsed, and then his eyes widened as his vision blurred. The muscles of Taylor's ass clamped down onto Sam's cock as he exploded. He twisted beneath his mate as mindless pleasure tore through him.

"Taylor...god...baby..." Deep, hard, his thrusts quickened as Taylor felt spurts of cum deep inside his ass. It triggered another explosion that left Taylor gasping, fighting for breath as he writhed beneath Sam's powerful body.

He whimpered as he closed his eyes.

"Oh, no, my little goth angel. I'm not done with you yet."

Taylor's eyes snapped open. He couldn't believe Sam was still seated inside of Taylor, still rock hard.

Sam pulled his cock from Taylor's ass, turned Taylor over to his stomach, and then slid back inside.

"This time we take it slow."

Slow was good. Taylor wasn't sure he could take more of the all-consuming fire that had just ripped his body apart. Sam's hands slid over his back, and then he leaned his muscular frame over Taylor to lay soft kisses down his spine. Taylor moaned. Feeling Sam's hands on his body, his cock pushing deep inside of his ass was like heaven.

Taylor had never expected to find someone like Sam. He never thought he'd find happiness. After the hell he'd endured, Taylor had resigned himself to a half-life. Now all he wanted was for Sam to make love to him for the rest of his life.

All thoughts fled when Sam eased him onto his hands and knees. He trembled with pleasure when Sam reached under Taylor and gripped his erection, stroking Taylor's cock as he rocked back and forth, his shaft grazing over sensitive nerve endings.

"Your body fits me so perfectly," Sam said as he nipped Taylor on the shoulder.

Rocking his body back and impaling his ass on Sam's shaft, Taylor lost himself in the sensual desires heating up inside of his body. He wasn't sure if slow and torturous was any better than fast and explosive.

It seemed no matter how Sam took him, he made Taylor burn on the inside. This buildup was like a slow-burning fire, eating away at Taylor's sanity as he thrust back, groaning at the feel of his mate's thick cock filling him.

"That's it, angel. Fuck me." Sam's hand began to move faster at Taylor's cock as his thrusts deepened, becoming quicker.

Taylor clawed at the sheets, his legs spreading a little wider, his hips rotating as Sam plunged inside of his ass. "Make me come, Sam."

The man gave a low growl as he sped up, his cock pounding into Taylor's body as he released Taylor's cock and grabbed his hips instead. He lowered his shoulders, rocking his head back and forth, trying his best to just let go.

He cried out when Sam's canines sank into his skin. Taylor had never felt closer to anyone than he did to Sam, and he never wanted to lose that feeling.

Sam licked the wound, whispering in Taylor's ear, "You're my angel and I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Just when he thought he would go insane, Taylor's body shattered, his mind reeled, and his heartbeat sped up so fast that he became dizzy.

Sam howled from behind Taylor, his movements becoming uncoordinated as his seed filled Taylor once more. He gave a few more thrusts before slowing, his breathing ragged.

Sam pulled Taylor up and into his arms, nuzzling his neck as soft purrs rumbled through his chest. Taylor fought to breathe normally as Sam slowly pulled his softening cock from Taylor's swollen ass.

Something settled inside Taylor, destroying the chains that had bound him for so long. He felt free, giddy, and so in love that it hurt. Sam had seduced him not with words, but with his honesty, kindness, and boyish brand of humor that Taylor would always treasure.

Sam was his knight in shining armor. Taylor would just have to watch out for the guy's foot when he mounted his noble steed.

THE END.

COWBOY STRIPPER.

Bear County.

Lynn Hagen.

Chapter One.

"What the hell!" Wilbur sputtered as the cold water splashed over him. He blinked the water out of his eyes, trying to bring the room into sharper focus. There was a chill in the air, making him shiver as the water seeped beneath his clothes and clung to his skin.

Where in the hell was he?

"So glad you could join me." A man with piercing hazel eyes moved into view. He was imposing and a bit on the scary side. His black T-shirt stretched across an expansive chest, and his muscles rippled as he moved.

Wilbur shook his head like a dog shaking the wetness from his fur. He couldn't wipe the water away considering his hands were tied behind his back. How he'd gotten like this was anybody's guess. Gazing around the room, Wilbur noticed concrete walls, a steel door, and a large mirror like the ones used in those detective shows. Was this guy a cop? Since when did a cop splash water on people or tie them up?

Each ankle was bound to one of the legs on the chair he was sitting in. Wilbur wasn't getting up anytime soon, and his nose was itching.

"Now, Mr. Reno," the stranger said as he set the bucket aside. "Let's not waste your time or mine."

Time was going to be wasted because Wilbur had no freaking clue who this guy was or where they were. And who was Mr. Reno? That wasn't Wilbur's last name.

The last thing Wilbur could remember was leaving the office building where he worked. It had been late, and he had burned the candle way past midnight. After shutting everything down, he'd walked out into the parking lot and...

Things were a bit fuzzy from there.

The stranger slowly circled Wilbur's chair like a vulture honing in on road kill. The man's eyes were flat, cold, holding no compassion whatsoever, but then something lethal begin to stir in those hazel eyes. Wilbur had a terrible urge to scream, "Don't peck my eyes out!"

"All you have to tell me is where you stashed Ms. O'Connor, and we can end this."

Wilbur could end this sooner because he had no clue what the guy was talking about. Who the hell was Ms. O'Connor? This was obviously a case of mistaken identity. Wilbur tugged at the binding tape. It didn't budge. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know any Ms. O'Connor."

The man's laugh sounded sinister as he placed his boot on the chair between Wilbur's legs. The stranger leaned his bulky arms on his knee as he smirked at Wilbur. "Come now, Mr. Reno. Your little innocent act isn't going to wash with me. If you don't start talking soon, I can make you talk."

The stranger's voice was feral, deep, with an edge of danger that said he would go through with any threat he handed out. The man stood over Wilbur like a dark warrior who'd escaped hell. His features were closed, but his eyes still held a promise of torture if Wilbur didn't cooperate.

He was at of loss as to what to say or do. Somehow he knew denying knowledge wouldn't mean anything to this guy. Wilbur's body continued to shake as he wondered what was going to happen to him. Whether he continued to plead innocent or fabricated some story to please this man, things were looking pretty grim. Would his captor kill him? Exactly who was Wilbur dealing with?

Wilbur cried out when the stranger grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. Their faces were inches apart, the man's warm breath skittering across Wilbur's lips. It smelled minty. "Silence is not a wise tactic, Mr. Reno."

The stranger's eyes held no mercy, no understanding that this was a big mix-up. Wilbur started to tell the guy this, but his voice caught in his throat. Fear strangled him, and his head ached with the pain of the man's tight grip on Wilbur's hair.

"Where. Is. Ms. O'Conner?"

"I-I don't know," Wilbur whispered. He was staring into his own death. He fought down the urge to beg this man to believe him. If the guy killed Wilbur, who would feed his goldfish? Harry would starve to death. Then again, Wilbur had had three goldfish die on him in the past two months. Maybe he should reconsider being a pet owner.

Wilbur swallowed tightly, the move hurting since his neck was bent all the way back. On the bright side, he was no longer cold because the man was sharing his body heat with him standing so close.

"Do you really want to play this game with me?" The man's fingers tightened painfully. "Trust me. You don't want what I have to offer."

"Could you offer me a bathroom? I really have to go." Wilbur tried to forget about his bladder, but the asshole yanked at his hair again, and for some weird reason, the move made Wilbur's bladder twinge. Strange but true. "Easy," Wilbur shouted. "That really hurts, you know. You have very bad manners."

The guy snarled as he released Wilbur. "Fine, we'll do things the hard way."

Wilbur wasn't sure what that meant. The man left the room, slamming the door behind him. When the bastard didn't come back, Wilbur glanced around and said, "Hello? Can anyone hear me? I'm tied up, and I really have to pee."

Nothing.

Dang it.

He tried to scoot his chair across the floor and had made it about an inch when the door swung open. The stranger was back. There was another bucket in his hand and a piece of cloth.

"Have you ever heard of dry drowning?"

"Not really. Would that require a wetsuit?" Wilbur's skin was starting to itch as the exposed parts began to dry. He really needed his hands free so he could scratch. He was ready to throw himself sideways so he could fall to the floor and scoot across it like an inchworm just to have some friction on his skin.

"We'll see how witty you are when I'm finished with you." The stranger set the bucket aside and came toward Wilbur.

Wilbur tried to move his chair away, but he wasn't fast enough. He threw his head to the right and then the left when the guy tried to put the cloth over Wilbur's head.