Curves for Her Bears (BBW Shifter Erotic Romance) (2 page)

“I’m fine. I must have drifted off to sleep.” She looked at the uncomfortable expression on his face; he obviously found it difficult to be around her. “Thank you for being concerned.”

He looked slightly mollified, and then said, “We don’t go near others unless we have to, so it is in my interest to keep you well.”

So much concern for her safety. How flattering! This she kept to herself, asking him instead, “Why do you stay away from others?”

For a moment she thought he would not answer, and then he simply said, “Because we are different.”

He went and sat down, picked up his book and began to read. She lay and watched him, disturbed by the way he made her feel, not wanting to close her eyes again because to do so would be to shut him out.

“How are you feeling now?”

Aiden came back into the room, and she looked at him properly for the first time. He was tall, and muscular, very toned and fit. Both these men must work out a lot to be the build they were. Maggie looked from one to the other; they were not related as far as she could tell. To her that left one obvious conclusion. They were gay. The reason they lived out her alone, and were “different” was because they were lovers. This left her with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

“I’m a little better. Thank you.”

He came and knelt down in front of her, and she looked into his eyes, mesmerised by them. If only he liked women she would struggle not to fall for him, there was something about him, about both of them that made her ache with need.

“No luck with the memory?” he asked, tapping his temple.

“Afraid not. Perhaps a good night’s sleep will help.”

“Probably. Do you need something more to eat?”

“No. Thank you. I am just incredibly tired right now.”

He looked concerned. “I think it would be a good idea if one of us stays with you tonight.” She looked a little worried, and he jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen.”

“I know. I’m quite safe with men like you.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” He smiled, a devastatingly sensual smile, and her heart beat a little bit quicker. “Do you need me to carry you to your bed?”

“Bed? I thought I could sleep here.” She didn’t want to impose any more on their hospitality by stealing their bed.

“Really. It’s OK. Can you walk?”

“I think so.” She slid her legs around so her feet rested on the floor. Looking up she was again surprised to see Cyrus looking at her with a mixture of distrust, and something else. Concern? Only because he did not want any trouble brought down on them, she reminded herself.

Putting any weight on her legs proved too much, she stumbled forward, only Aiden’s strong arms saving her from crashing to the floor. Surprisingly Cyrus had also leapt forward to catch her, but backed off once he saw she was safe in Aiden’s arms.

“Allow me,” Aiden said, lifting her effortlessly and cradling her against the large expanse of his chest.

She lay back, her head resting on his shoulder and allowed him to carry her out of the room. It was colder out here, the warmth of the fire in their sitting room tricking her into thinking she was OK. Now, here in the cooler part of the house she shivered, a movement Aiden noticed, and pulled her closer to him. The heat of his body did the trick; she had never known anybody give off so much body heat.

He took her to a room down the hall, kicking the door open to reveal a double bed. He placed her down on it, and then pulled the covers back for her to slide in. She did so, but it was cold and she began to shiver again.

“I’ll get you more blankets,” he said.

She lay, her teeth chattering, watching him move about the room. He opened the closet and took out two heavy blankets, having to stretch to reach them, giving her a good view of his muscular back. While she watched him she marvelled at the fact he had only a thin shirt on and did not seem to feel the cold, while she had her clothes and the bed covers on but still could not get warm.

“Here,” he said, covering her up.

He then sat on a chair in the corner of the room, he did not take his eyes off her, something she found a little unnerving. However, she put it down to him being most diligent in his task.

Still she shivered, and it became uncontrollable. Aiden got up and came to sit beside her, placing his hand on hers. “You're freezing. It could be shock setting in.”

He lifted the covers slightly and chafed her arms with his hands to try to warm her. It helped, but not enough. He looked concerned, his expression worrying her.

“Am I going to be alright?” she asked.

“Yes. But we need to get you warm.”

“Why don’t you lie by the side of me? You're body is so warm, it will help to make the shivering stop.” He hesitated, and she did not know why. She smiled weakly, and said. “You're quite safe, I won’t jump on you.”

She had meant it as a joke, but his face grew more serious. His jaw clenched, and his hands paused in their rubbing of her skin.

“Please,” she stammered.

Reluctantly he lifted the covers and slid in beside her, instantly she was enveloped in his heat. She rested her head in his shoulder, and placed her hands on his chest. Her eyes closed, she felt so warm and cosy she wanted to drift off to sleep.

It was only when Aiden’s body stiffened that she opened them again. Cyrus stood at the door, a look of absolute jealousy on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly to Aiden as Cyrus turned and quickly left. “I didn’t mean for him to be jealous of me.”

Aiden’s breathing seemed to stop, when at last he released the breath he answered. “I don’t know what you think. But it is not you he is jealous of.”

Maggie lay quite still. It was a long time until she fell asleep. Although her body was warm and relaxed her mind was in turmoil. She had misjudged the situation completely. They were not lovers, which meant she was in the bed of a very virile man, and the hardness pressing against her leg was for her. Not Cyrus.

She only hoped both men had sufficient self control not to hurt her.

Maggie stirred briefly in the night, her body turned cold, as though someone had pulled the covers off her. She half awoke, and turned over, thankful to find the warm body of Aiden next to her. Curling fingers into his springy chest hair she went back to sleep, safe and content with him there.

Morning came, the sunlight coming in through the curtains hanging at the little window. She opened her eyes and took in the room, strangely, it felt like home. There was no jolt of her memory telling her, no, this is not your room. Her memory was still missing a lot of pieces.

The steady rise and fall of the broad chest of the man lying next to her gave her some comfort. Aiden surely would not ask her to leave if she did not know where to go. However, horror struck her when she turned her gaze to his face. It was not the sweet natured Aiden next to her. It was Cyrus.

She jerked her head up, making sure she had seen right. He looked at her, and her heart skipped a beat. He made her insides turn to liquid fire, desire flickered across her face. She knew he had seen it, no matter how quickly she had pushed it aside. How was it possible to want both these men when they were so different?

Pushing herself away from him, she sat up, testing the state of her body. Her head still ached, but it was duller now, not as intense as the night before. The rest of her seemed in one piece, her legs still a little stiff, but nothing that would not walk off.

The only other thing that gave her some discomfort was her stomach, it was empty and she was ravenous. As if to confirm this there was a deep rumble, followed by a gurgling.

“Sorry,” she said to Cyrus.

Surprisingly he smiled, and her stomach flipped in a different way. He was dark and brooding, reminding her of Heathcliff. Was this her version of Wuthering Heights? She only hoped he was a bit nicer to women, but she suspected he was just as intense.

He sat up and dragged his hand through his thick hair, it was longer than current fashion dictated, but she got the feeling he was not the sort of man to follow fashion. In truth there were probably no rules this man liked to follow. Maybe she was attracted to bad boys.

Another question she could not answer.

Here she was having intimate feelings about two strangers when for all she knew she might have a boyfriend, or more. Lifting her left hand, she studied it, looking for any sign of a ring.

“What are you looking at? Does your hand hurt?”

She turned and looked at Cyrus. “No. I was looking to see if I was married. Or engaged.”

“Can you remember being married?” he asked quickly.

“No. But I still can’t remember anything much.”

He took her hand, and drew it towards him. He then, rather strangely, examined it himself, very thoroughly. She looked at the dark eyelashes fanning his eyes, they were long, and gave his eyes a softness she liked. Then her gaze went lower, taking in the fullness of his lips, wondering what they would be like to kiss.

“I can’t see any mark.”

“No. Neither could I,” she said, pulling her hand away and trying to think of anything other than how his lips would feel on her body.

He looked at her for a fleeting moment before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting up. “If you need the bathroom it’s the second door on the left.”

Vaguely pointing out of the room he got up and left, his large frame filling the door frame before he disappeared down the hallway. Maggie lay still, trying to recall the events that had brought her here, but they still would not come. Only that same sense of fear, and trying to get away from something. The only thing she was certain of right now though was that these men did not mean her any harm.

If they did, she would have found out by now. Just because they did not mean her any harm did not mean she was not in trouble, the way they made her feel was like a drug you could never get enough of. For Maggie this was like some kind of torture, would crushing on two desirable men mean twice the rejection? Would they enjoy her curves, or be turned off by them?

She could lie there no longer; she really did need the bathroom. Carefully she sat up, happy to find her head no longer pounded, tentatively she put her hand up to where she had hit it. There was a bump there, not too big, but the area around it felt bruised. When she looked at her hand, there was no blood on it, so the cut must have dried. Maybe she would get out of here today after all, away from the two men who made her feel so sexy and desirable before she got in too deep.

Walking to the bathroom, she realised this posed another question. If she had no memory of who she was, where would she go? The hospital or police station seemed the best course of action. However, the thought of being poked and prodded by strangers as they tried to figure out what to do with her did not appeal.

Following Cyrus’s directions, she did indeed find the bathroom. Standing while washing her hands, she looked in the mirror, trying to see if anything came back to her. Not a lot, sure she knew her name, and what she looked like, but that was about it. Her memories must be locked in there somewhere, but how she was supposed to get them out was a mystery. Perhaps she could get those two men to keep her, at least she would be safe, because right now the outside world seemed very scary, and she was alone.

Knowing she could not stay in the bathroom forever she went out, not sure what to do next. Going back to the bedroom, she sat down on the bed. Neither of the men came for her, so she got up, knowing that she needed something to eat. Her legs felt a bit wobbly, and her stomach definitely growled again.

Standing in the doorway, she listened, trying to figure out where to go, she certainly did not want them to think she was prying into their business by wandering around the house on her own. The only thing she could do was go down stairs and see if they were there. It was that or try the other rooms up here, but she quickly dismissed that as a sure way to end up in trouble, or in their bed.

“Stop it,” she told herself firmly when images of her and the two of them in bed filled her head. Perhaps if she had some idea of her life, and commitments, it might change the way she felt. The thing holding her back was that if there was a special someone waiting for her to come home, she was sure she was not the sort of woman who would cheat on them. Or was she? She groaned inwardly with frustration and went down the stairs, listening for any sign of the brothers.

“We still need to decide what we are going to do with her?”

Aiden’s voice drifted up the stairs, and she paused, not wanting to eavesdrop, but intrigued to know what they were saying about her.

“Keep her.” He paused. “I know you’re conscience won't let you. But you know how unlikely it was for us to find her out there.”

“You think that's an omen?” Aiden asked. When no answer came back he said, “And do you intend to tell her?”

Maggie’s heart began to hammer in her chest. She had been wrong, they were hiding something, and perhaps they were responsible for the blow to her head and her memory loss. Could she have got it so wrong? Thinking they were helping her when all along they were the ones she had been trying to get away from.

“You know that will not be easy. I don’t think she would understand.”

“Then we live a lie?”

“I don’t know, Aiden. But I sure can’t let her go like this. Where will she go? Who will she speak to who won't ask questions we don’t have answers for?”

“Let’s give it some time, see how she is this morning.”

Cyrus mumbled something she did not catch, and then there was the sound of plates being laid out on the table. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move through fear of betrayal. They must surely be responsible for her being here, if not what were they hiding?

The sounds from the kitchen grew suddenly louder, and she realised that the door must have opened and one of them might be coming out. If they caught her here they would no doubt realise she had been listening to their conversation and take action. Maybe they would lock her up, or tie her to the bed.