This week I’m reading Eve Langlais’ Swan and the Bear. I read this book a while ago, but I don’t think I was in the proper frame of mind to truly appreciate it the first time. Since then it has become one of my favorite go to paranormals to read when I need to take a step back, relax and laugh till my abs are sore.
Swan and the Bear by Eve Langlais
Screw honey, this bear craves chocolate.
Mason, a true ladies man and a big teddy of a bear, is on a mission to protect the shifter community . Who is he to complain if that task requires him to guard FUC’s tech wizard — a curvy mocha hottie who knows how to bring him to his knees.
Jessie has no patience for a bear who flirts every time he breathes. Despite his appeal , and smoking good looks, she refuses to give in to his charm . She can’t because this swan princess is already promised to another.
When an evil mastermind sets his sights on her, will one playful bear be enough to save her feathery tail from danger? And if Mason manages to steal her heart , who will save him from her daddy — the not-so-nice swan king ?
Uhhh, you had me at “Screw honey” This book is boxy sexy and laugh out loud funny. I love Ms. Langalis’ sense of humor and the love scenes are just pure hotness. And what really makes me happy is that Jessie, the heroine, is both a swan princess AND a scientist. Beat that Barbie 😉
A few weeks had passed since Mason dropped the bait bomb on Chase and his mate, a few weeks of utter boredom as he got assigned guard duty over his brother and Miranda . More like torture. Just how many times could one couple have sex in a day? If it weren’t for their respective work schedules that spanned Monday to Friday , where they separated with long kisses and intimate gropes, Mason would have gone insane. As it was, the weekends just about killed him. Following them discreetly on nature walks so they could screw in the wilderness made him wish for winter. Watching them eye each other over a plate of pasta while they groped each other under the table made him lose all appetite. As for their stupid pet names for each? Honey bear and honey pie, gag him with a spoon. If he heard them say them one more time , he’d probably shoot himself.
And Jessie, that evil female whose presence haunted his dreams — and hardened his c*ck for a daily fisting in the shower — laughed when he complained.
“Why do I have to be in the apartment with them?” he moaned as she tapped away at her computer. Despite her numerous attempts to throw him out, he kept gravitating to her work area, drawn by the one woman who wouldn’t drop her pants for him — even if he desperately wished she would. He’d not tapped a single p*ssy since he met the beauty with the tightly clamped thighs , and not because the offers were lacking. On the contrary, the women throw ing themselves at him bordered on almost ridiculous and the more he gently turned them down , the harder they tried. They were coming at him with guns blazing, doing everything from wearing short skirts that left nothing to the imagination to gaping blouses , and even roaming hands.
Unfortunately, they didn’t stir one iota of interest. Heck, his c*ck wouldn’t even wake up, unless he accidentally thought of Jessie. One reminder of her dark eyes, her smirking lips, or her luscious ass and he became harder than a steel girder. He whacked off daily because of her, sometimes three times a day — huddled in a bathroom for privacy with the water running — and while his poor hand tired, no matter how many times he came grunting her name — her face in all its scowling glory so clear in his mind — it all ended up for naught as soon as he saw or thought of her again.
He knew the solution to his dilemma. A dip, or two or three , in the chocolate decadence that was Jessie, however, that didn’t seem to be in the cards anytime soon. He swore she secretly delighted in shooting him down. He’d lost count at this point of how many times and ways she’d said no, yet, like a glutton for punishment, he kept going back. And he couldn’t just blame his bearish curiosity. The man in him found her fascinating too.
“You need to be close by. The last time the mastermind decided to strike, cameras weren’t enough,” Jessie told him without even looking up from her keyboard. “Even though we’ve reinforced the firewall, and Frank, their bloody spy, is gone now, we’re not taking chance s this time that they’ll slip someone past us.”
“ I get that part. But, you don’t understand. They never stop.”
“Stop what?” she mumbled absently.
“Having sex! What do you think?”
The fingers flying across her keyboard stumbled and halted. “Sure they do. I mean, they’ve got to eat, don’t they?”
“They sometimes eat while doing it, ” Mason growled. “It’s like a sickness with them.” And annoying as hell since he wasn’t getting any, and yet so desperately wanted some.
“I don’t know what your problem is. I mean, you’ve spent, what, twenty years now keeping your neighbors up entertaining your lady friends? Shouldn’t you be immune to women screaming?”
“First off, I am not that old.” Although at twenty eight and creeping, he’d certainly sown his fair share of oats. “Second , it’s one thing to be involved in the creation of the screaming, another to have to listen to it. And we’re not even going to discuss the grunting. It’s my brother, after all, in there with her. It’s gross.”
“Nice to see you have some lines you won’t cross,” she replied, turning to give him a smirk that made her eyes crinkle with mirth.
“Why can’t we get Viktor to do it for a few nights?” he grumbled. “I need a good fourteen hours uninterrupted rest. I’m a bear, you know, and we need our sleep.”
“Viktor can’t do it because Chase said he’d rip off the head of anyone else, which you well know. So stop pouting like a baby or I’ll get you a pacifier and crazy glue it to your mouth.”
“I know something else you can stick in my mouth.” It slipped out before he could stop it.
“Yeah, my foot as it comes up through your ass. Now can it. Some of us are working here.”
“You are so mean to me.” And God , he loved it. Assertive, no nonsense, and so hot it made him hurt, Jessie embodied everything he wanted in a woman. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to resist him.
“Cry me a river. Go tell someone who cares.” She said it and yet, didn’t enforce it, not like she had when he first started hanging out. The first week, she’d done everything she could to get him to leave. She peppered his lunch. Bruised his shins, kidney and any other body part in each. Stole his honey crueler. Called him fat — which sent him home to do pushups and situps all night. She even tried to tell him she preferred women. That backfired when he told her that just made her hotter.
No matter how many times she acted like he was the biggest pain in her delectable, round ass, he could tell she secretly liked him, or at least tolerated his presence. He preferred to think like, though, because he’d not missed her occasional heated look when she thought no one watched. He even caught the sweet scent of her arousal on a few occasions. It gave him hope even when she treated him like he carried the plague, or a host of venereal diseases. Impossible. His shifter blood kept him clean.
“I am so under appreciated, ” he moaned dramatically.
Jessie snickered. “Gee, if only your numerous conquests could see you now, bitching and moaning like a little girl. What’s wrong? Is your new schedule curtailing your sex life?”
“What sex life? I haven’t seen a naked woman since I started working for FUC.”
“Oh, poor baby. Are you suffering withdrawal? I hear the sex emporium down the street is having a two for one sale on pocket p*ssies. ”
“Keep up the taunts and you can be part of the cure.” Ooh, that changed the temperature in the room and added a musky scent he’d love to sniff from the source. Screw the mystery of a picnic basket, he’d take what Jessie hid in her pants any day.
As usual, though, she pretended dislike. “ If you don’t like the conversation, then go somewhere else to mope. Actually, I insist. ”
“But I like it here.”
She swiveled in her chair and gave him the full effect of her brown eyed gaze, more like glare, actually. It sent a shiver through him. “Why? Why do you keep coming back to my office? I don’t like you. Hell, I’m not even nice to you. So why do you keep torturing us both?”
Because I’m a glutton for punishment. “Because deep down, you don’t hate me . You love me. Actually, you’re dying to get your hands on my body and have your wicked way with me. And I just want you to know, I’m totally fine with that. ” He leered at her and waggled his brows.
She sighed. Loudly. But at least she no longer kicked him with her steel toed boots. “You are such a freaking moron. I wouldn’t have sex with you if all the dildos in the world turned into birds and flew away.”
“You have a dildo?”
“No!” She yelled vehemently, but couldn’t hide the telltale blush in her cheeks.
“You do, don’t you?” he replied . “That is so freaking hot.”
“But I want to hear more about your dildo use. Like, do you use any lotion or just natural lube?”
He ducked as a stapler came flying his way. Then dodged as her keyboard followed. As he darted out the door, he couldn’t help his parting, “Do you use Duracell or Energizer?”
The strangled yell made him grin from ear to ear.
Whistling, his hands shoved in his pockets to disguise the fact he sported a woody, he strolled back to his cubby hole of an office. Think room dividers, one scarred desk and a pink laptop, all the FUC supply office had left when he went to get his office equipment.
Laurel Cremant is an opinionated author and reader of romance with a wicked sense of humor. RNIC was smart (or crazy) to bring her on as a blogger. Come back on the second and fourth Thursdays of each month to get her romance industry news…with a colorful twist.