2. The Storm

Two

The Storm

MARIE

I can't see shit in this blizzard! The windshield wipers move at a blurring speed, but the snow is just falling too fast. I keep switching between muttering prayers and cussing under my breath. Why did I think this was a good idea? Fine, there's a hundred-million dollar contract weighing heavily on the scale of my decision to drive through a snowstorm, but come on! Maybe Mav wouldn't have minded. An image of his scowling face flashes through my mind and I almost smile. Yeah, he would have minded. Our company is building an entire housing complex dedicated to bear shifters. A small-town in itself. With homes, parks, transportation, restaurants, and all the much needed jobs that come with such a big project.

But, of course, it was the only contract in the pile I brought to Maverick this morning, before he left for his hibernation break, that he didn't sign all pages of. And I was too flustered to notice. I guess Mav was too antsy and ready to balk out of the office to perform his usual attentive review.

The man who always closes down the building after all his employees go home dashed out at five o'clock sharp. Without a look back or a goodbye. I watched his retreating form through the glass-door of my office, taking one last longing look at his tight buns encased in one of his tailored slacks. His broad back stretching the fabric of an immaculate button-down shirt. Italian leather loafers striding toward the elevator. Mav always looks larger than life, but today his expensive clothes can barely contain his bulking form. His jet black hair and neatly trimmed beard grew in the last hours of the day. His bear was close to the surface, and I wanted nothing but to see my handsome alpha turn. Watch his already impressive form grow taller, his muscles expand under thick, dark fur. His ruggedly handsome features become the face of a wild beast.

But of course, I'll never get to see that. Maverick Ursinus is way out of my league. He's insanely rich, powerful, and imposing. The man is a catch. The most eligible bachelor of the entire West Coast. Of the universe, if you ask me.

I squint at the blurry windshield, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Reminding myself this is all I can have. All I can be for Mav. Be his trusted assistant. The woman who helps him run his business, and stands by his side in the shadows… and apparently drives in a snowstorm to make sure he doesn't lose millions of dollars.

* * *

MAVERICK

I stretch my arms over my head, yawning. I'm still in my human form, but the prickle under my skin tells me it won't be much longer now. Within a day, my hair and beard have grown as long as they would normally do in a month. My canines have elongated, my muscles bulked up, and the normally short smother of hair on my chest has spread to my entire body. My nails have grown longer and harder. And a welcomed sleepiness is spreading through my veins. I rub a large, paw-like hand over my bare abdomen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. Ones I won't mind shredding through when I most likely turn during my sleep. My bear is ready to doze off and alternate between sleep, feedings, and venturing outside for short periods of time. My dick is still fat with need for Marie, my balls heavy with the seed. I can't seem to be able to spill into any other female since I met her. But nature is taking over. My body demands these few weeks of slowing down. I walk to my cabin door, my steps heavy. The shades are closed, windows locked, fridge and cupboards stocked. I have everything I need for my stay. But just when I approach the control panel to set the alarm, I hear a noise outside. It's the muffled sound of an approaching car. I stand still and listen. Most bear shifters originating from the Tahoe Basin come home during this time of the year, and there's a severe storm outside. Someone might need help. I don't bother with shoes or clothes, with most of my skin being covered by a thin layer of fur. Stepping outside, I see headlights pointing to my cabin. I shade my eyes with an outstretched palm, squinting through the falling snow. It's a small SUV, and it's moving laboriously, but definitely toward my den. What the fuck? When the car stops, a small, bundled up form extracts itself from the vehicle, holding something to its chest. The person struggles against the wind, but finally makes it to my front porch, and when my vision adjusts to the darkness, I want to roar my fury. Because Marie Flores is standing at my door, shivering. Looking half-frozen, and offering me a teeth-clattering smile. I'm gonna fucking kill this woman! "What the fuck are you doing here?" I growl. Her smile falters, but she bravely pushes through, shaking a pile of papers in her small gloved hand. "You didn't sign all the pages of the resort contract." I'm gonna fucking tan her lush ass. Without a word, I throw her over my shoulder, ignoring her gasp of surprise, and march us inside. This female will be the fucking death of me.