Tater's Bear

Brac Pack 22

Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, Bears
Published: November 12, 2011

Watching his barn burn to the ground, the one place that brought him solace, Tater walks away. But in doing so, he is thrown into a course of events that will alter his life forever.

Olsen Lakeland has finally found his mate. Instead of celebrating, the bear is fighting to hang on to the man that he loves and stop Tater from going insane.

As the two traverse through the depths of unknown territories, the prince of vampires is on the verge of madness when he ingests blood tainted with the drug Liquid Wrath. To make matters worse, a bounty has been called on all four leaders' heads. Chaos reigns when Brac Village becomes the target for multitudes of rogues bent on destroying Maverick and his pack.

In the fight to protect and the coming together of old and new, a hybrid is born.



Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tater threw his arms over his head as he watched Olsen Lakeland walk off of his front porch. Tater kicked the front door with his booted foot, punching it at the same time with his fist.

What in the hell was going on in his life lately? His uncle was a goddamn drug dealer? What kind of crazy world did he walk into? He couldn’t believe that Maverick had found drugs in the barn that Tater had used for many years as a reprieve when he needed to get away from it all. And his motorcycle that gave him a peace of mind to work on? Gone. Burned to a crispy-fried piece of useless metal inside the barn.

“Is that you, Tater?” his mom called from upstairs. Tater rocked his forehead back and forth on the wall, laying his hands on either side of his head, using the wall to hold his weary body up. Tater sighed, looking down at his boots as he wished he was any place but here right now. Too much was happening at once, and he felt like his life was out of control.

Olsen Lakeland just walked away, out of his life, and Tater was torn between letting him go and chasing him down, insisting that the man stay. “Fuck!” He slammed the palm of his hand against the wall.

“Tater, go to bed,” his mother called from upstairs.

Tater pushed away from the wall and looked over at the steps leading upstairs. It was amazing that the fire department was outside killing the fire that engulfed the barn in flames, and his mother was in her bedroom acting as though nothing was wrong with the world.

Tater turned and wrenched the front door open, walking onto the porch just as the last of the flames were banked. His dad was out there talking with the fire marshal, trying his best to blow smoke up the guy’s ass to cover up what really happened to the structure.

His Uncle Clark had been using his barn to make some drug called Liquid Wrath. Tater had gone inside the red building, angry that his uncle would do something like that, and tried to rid the barn of the chemicals. Unfortunately, he hadn’t known the shit was unstable. Hence, his burnt-down barn. He watched his dad talk, his arms flailing around animatedly as he pointed at the barn and then back at the house.

They’d find out. The fireman would see the chemical lab his uncle had set up in there and know Tater’s dad was full of shit. Right about now, Tater didn’t give a fuck. He’d lost so much tonight already.

He gave his barn one last look, or what was left of it, and then started to walk up the dirt driveway, away from home and away from what had taken place here. His back still hurt from Maverick tackling him. The guy was too damn big to be treating Tater like pigskin. How was he supposed to know the chemicals in the barn had been explosive? They never should have been kept in there in the first place, and none of this would have happened.

Tater had no clue where in the fuck he was going as he reached the main road, but it was better than being at home right now. He watched a truck amble closer, the headlights blinding him as Tater walked down the side of the road.

He groaned when the truck’s brakes squeaked loudly, signaling that the driver had stopped. “Hey, you looking for a ride?”

Tater slowed his walking as he looked over at the rusty blue piece of shit idling across the road from him. He didn’t recognize the man, but damn if the fucker didn’t scream pervert. “No thanks.”

The pervert leaned out of his window, slapping the driver’s door with the palm of his hand. “I could make it worth your while.”

Tater could feel a tick start in his jaw. His night was already shot down the toilet. He didn’t need a pervert following him down the damn road. “I said no, now fuck off.” Tater ran a hand over his short-cropped hair, eyed the jerk for a second, and then continued his walk to nowhere.

The truck began to move backward slowly, the tires on a lazy rotation as the pervert followed him down the deserted back roads of Brac Village. “I can help you ease your worries,” the man said in an annoying, syrupy tone. “Stop playing hard to get and come take a ride.”

That’s it! Tater stormed across the road, the brakes squeaking as the pervert stopped the truck, triumph gleaming in his lust-filled eyes. Tater got right in the man’s face, pointing his finger as he growled. “Do I look like a helpless victim to you? I’m six foot two and two hundred forty-five pounds of muscle. If you don’t get the fuck out of here, I’m going to show you just how bad of a night I’ve really had.”

Tater slapped the doorframe with his hand and then crossed back over to his side of the road, walking away from the truck and everything else. Tater couldn’t understand where all his pent-up anger was coming from. Normally he was pretty easygoing.

On second thought, yes, he did.

His reprieve was burnt to the ground, taking his treasured motorcycle with it. His fucking uncle was a drug dealer that probably wasn’t going to live through the night now that Maverick had him. His father was a homophobic asshole that didn’t have an ounce of concern for anyone other than himself, and the man he wanted but was too afraid to commit to just walked out of his life.

Oh yeah, he knew exactly why he was ready to chew nails and spit them at the pervert.


Olsen ran the palm of his hand up the large and beautiful shaft as he knelt between Tater’s firm and muscular legs.

“Very nice, Tater,” he teased softly as his thumbnail dipped into the slit that was centered at the top. “Very nice.”

Tater’s chest expanded and contracted rapidly as his eyes watched every movement Olsen’s hand made. The side of Olsen’s mouth pulled back into a smile when Tater’s tongue shot out, licking his lips as his stomach quivered.

Olsen spanned his hand across Tater’s chest as he slid back, wetting two fingers, and then pressed the palm of his hand into Tater’s perineum as the two wet fingers circled around the tight muscle.

Tater’s legs pulled back and then his knees fell apart, his eyes darting around Olsen’s face. Olsen pushed both fingers deeply into Tater’s ass and then pulled them all the way out, repeating the process as Tater’s head thrashed from side to side. He twisted his hand, watching his mate as Tater groaned loudly and bore down onto Olsen’s fingers as he grazed Tater’s walnut-shaped gland.

Olsen laid his hand onto Tater’s thigh as he pushed a third finger in. He wished he had lube, but they weren’t at his house, in his bedroom. His eyes jumped from Tater to the stand next to the bed. Hmm, maybe.

Olsen kept his fingers buried deep in his mate’s body as he leaned to the side, stretching to reach the drawer. His fingers curled around the handle, pulling hard. The drawer slid out and then hit the floor. “So much for multitasking.” He chuckled.

Tater jackknifed, bent over the side of the bed, and then rolled back over, handing Olsen the lube. A brow hiked up as he smiled at his Tater. “Impatient?”

“Hell yeah.” Tater kicked his feet out as he changed positions, getting onto his hands and knees. Good lord, what a magnificent sight his mate presented to him. Olsen leaned forward and nipped both ass cheeks.

“Fuck me already,” Tater growled.

Olsen chuckled as he lubed his cock and then tossed the bottle aside. He reached his left hand out and pushed Tater’s upper body to the bed, making his shoulders touch the mattress as he curled his fingers around the back of Tater’s neck. “Submit.”

To his surprise, Tater’s arms reached up and his fingers curled around the headboard. His shoulders sank lower, and his ass rose higher into the air.

Tater’s submission was going to make Olsen’s bear break free. His canines grew from his gums as Olsen began to breathe heavily. He shook his head, trying to cage his bear. His nails slid from their sheaths as his cock grew in size. Olsen quickly moved his hand from Tater’s neck.


Olsen pinched the skin under the head of his cock, the pain reining in his bear. His cock eased back to its normal size as his nails re-sheathed. He had to gain control or his size would hurt his mate.


Olsen ran his hand up Tater’s spine as he grabbed the base of his cock with his other hand, lining it up and opening his mate up to his claiming. Olsen and Tater groaned at the same time as Olsen sank deeper.

He fought hard to make his bear heel. Olsen pulled his hips back and then slammed forward, his teeth hurting to the point of pain. His bear wanted to bite, to claim, to reestablish who Tater was to him.

Olsen gave up the fight and dropped over Tater, blanketing his back as he sank his teeth deep into Tater’s flesh.

“Olsen!” Tater cried as his legs slid further apart, his ass jutting higher, begging for Olsen to fuck him harder.

Olsen’s teeth stayed embedded as he grabbed Tater’s hips and powered into his mate’s tight ass. His cock felt like a steel fist was gripping it as he whimpered into Tater’s neck. He was losing control. The thought of his mate being hurt, of nearly dying, had him going crazy.

“I’m okay, Olsen,” Tater panted. Olsen wasn’t sure how Tater knew about the internal battle, but the words seemed to calm his bear. He pulled his teeth free, licking the wound as he tried to steady his breathing.

Olsen wrapped his arms around Tater as he slowed his frantic movements, his body moving in a gentle rocking motion as he pressed his face into Tater’s back, kissing his spine as his cock glided in and out of Tater’s soft body.

“I love you, Olsen.”

Olsen couldn’t catch the whimper before it left his lips. Tater had just made him the happiest bear on the planet. “I love you, too, mate.”

“I’m scared,” Tater confessed.

Olsen closed his eyes, thankful that his mate was reaching out to him, was telling him his fears. Olsen felt closer to Tater in that moment than he had at any other time. “I have you, baby.”