Matched To His Bear: An M/M Mpreg Shifter Dating App Romance (The Dates of Our Lives Book 2)

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “Hardly.” I was so not going into my sex life with him.

  “Then why are you here and not boinking his brains out?” He held the cup out for me and I snatched it. “Isn’t that how it is with true mates?” And there it was again—the longing. He didn’t show it often, but when he did, especially now that I saw what he was waiting for, I felt for him.

  “He had a work thing.” I sipped the coffee. “Nutmeg?”

  “Cardamom. I’m trying out new flavors.” He shrugged as if most people spiced up their coffee. And who knew, maybe they did. I was happy with convenience store hours-old coffee. Never got into that fancy stuff. “And you are deflecting.”

  “Fine. I’m stressed about how to tell him about me, and my bear is already impatient, as you know, and he...let’s say not marking him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

  “Come.” He walked around the kitchen counter and straight toward his bedroom with me trailing behind.

  “This better not be an attempt to get kinky with me,” I teased.

  It wasn’t.

  He took me into his closet and through a secret door, the one only I knew about since I was the one who helped build it, to the tiny room that held all his important things. To anyone accidentally discovering it, it resembled what you might expect in an attic, but it held more than just his mother’s old recipe cards and his father’s collection of gemstones, and his childhood stuffies. This was where he kept the books of old. Sure, he had some in his office to look the part, but the ones he kept back here were the ones that held our oldest history.

  “You think the answer is in here?”

  “I think it’s the best place to start. What was it my mom used to say about reinventing?” He set his coffee on the small stand that held the lamp that lit the room.

  “She told us we made school a thousand times harder because we always were reinventing things instead of researching first.” And she’d been right every stinking time. “So let’s crack these books.”

  We spent the next hour in silence as we skimmed through generations of our history. We probably should be more well-versed in it than we were given our positions. And long after the coffee was gone and my eyes starting to tear up from the dust, Soren stood up and announced, “I’ve found it. He already knows...he just doesn’t know he knows.”

  “What?”

  “Here.” He handed me the book he was reading and showed me a passage.

  Of course fate wouldn’t send them in unprepared. They sent them in with a dream—all I had to do was help him connect it back to me.

  As if anything was ever that easy peasy.

  Thirteen

  Gabe

  Fingers crossed this won’t drag on. I pressed send and walked into the meeting room. But as the head of department listed the items on the agenda, my wish for a speedy conclusion vanished. And I couldn’t message Brad unless I excused myself for a bathroom break, which was frowned upon.

  My boss reminded me of Corey sometimes with his dos and don’ts, including the usually unsaid but understood one about peeing before class and meetings. He treated us as a father would with kindness and generosity, but the flip side of that was he also saw us as kindergarteners.

  “Gabe?”

  “Ummm,” I replied, my thoughts drifting back to the night at Brad’s.

  “You have an opinion? This concerns everyone.”

  “I do,” I moaned and gabbled. “It was good. So good. Best I ever had. The only way to describe it is magical.”

  “Interesting response.”

  Returning to earth with a bump had me thinking that voice wasn’t Brad’s. And not Corey’s either. Who else would I be spilling the deets to about last night? I blinked and glanced around the huge table.

  At least ten pairs of eyes were fixed on me. There were open mouths, some sniggers, a few colleagues with pale faces, and others sporting red-tinged cheeks. More than one was staring at the ceiling while others shuffled papers.

  Opposite me at the other end of the table, the department head, who was my immediate boss, pushed the black-rimmed glasses up his nose and sniffed. His piercing gaze had me squirming in my seat. “I’ll pass your opinion on to Jane Austen next time she invites me for tea,” he barked.

  The repressed chortles, coughs, and clearing of throats in the room told me I’d fucked up. Oops! I scratched my ear as a flush betrayed my embarrassment. My boss’s face bore the shadow of a smile so I suspected I still had a job. “Sorry, what was the question again?”

  “The curriculum for second semester, Gabe. We’re overhauling the reading list and debating suitable novels for the first-year students.”

  “Right.” My foremost passion was English literature from authors in non-English-speaking countries. For too long, courses, such as the one I taught, had restricted themselves to the same fifty or fewer novels that were considered great literature. But with Professor Reid’s support, my courses explored previously little-known authors. The richness of the language, the culture, and the emotion they put on the page invigorated my love of the written word.

  This was my area of expertise and I could rattle off the pros and cons of authors and their writing styles without checking notes or doing much research. Though I had a comprehensive list on the computer screen in front of me.

  Luckily, a knock at the door had my boss dealing with an urgent matter and he paused the meeting for ten minutes. I raced into the hallway with my phone as a colleague handed me a book he’d borrowed. I feverishly texted Brad. Sorry. Running so late. Eat if you’re hungry and I’ll grab something on the way.

  I paced over the scratched wooden floor, worn smooth and scuffed by hundreds of students and faculty over the years.

  I miss you.

  His reply gave me the warm fuzzies, and I considered taking off, pretending I was ill. But I was an adult with a grown-up job and responsibilities no matter how much my dick urged me to head to Brad’s place.

  I’m hungry.

  His short response puzzled me. With my finger hovering over the screen and wondering how to reply, my phone chirped a second time.

  Ravenous!

  He was a man of few words, but were we still discussing dinner?

  But not for pizza.

  That one had me squirming.

  For you.

  He was eking out his replies. Teasing me. Getting me hot when he knew I was with other people. Butthead!

  I want to eat you.

  I raced to the stairwell hoping I’d be alone as my dick hardened.

  Put my mouth on you.

  Sweat dotted my hairline.

  Shove my cock up your ass.

  I tugged at my tie as it was choking me.

  And make you squirm.

  “Jesus Freaking Christ!”

  I adjusted my cock and leaned my head against the wall as my quivering hands had me making typo after typo. I… wnt… u bit cant git ut of eating. I mean meating. Meeting! “Godammit!”

  “Mr. Rafferty, are you ill?”

  “Professor Reid,” I squeaked. “No. Just overcome with emotion.” Thankfully my colleague had returned War and Peace, and I waved the book at my superior.

  “Ahhh, yes. The saga tugs at my heart each time I read it. You are a valuable addition to the faculty, Mr. Rafferty. Our students are fortunate to have such a worthy junior professor on staff.

  “Thank you.”

  Placing my hands in front of my crotch, I trailed after him back into the room, counting the seconds and minutes until I was in Brad’s arms. The remainder of the meeting passed quickly, and I sensed everyone was eager to leave. I murmured goodbyes and waved as I hurtled down the stairs and headed to my car.

  But I hit rush-hour traffic, and as I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, I called Brad. I had to hear his voice, especially if he was whispering the ways he was going to take me. I yanked at my shirt as the guy in the car beside me gave me an odd look.

  “Meeting over? I hope you’re naked.”
>
  “I’m in the car jammed between other vehicles. Taking my clothes off isn’t an option.”

  He huffed. “And I’ll repeat, are you naked?”

  “What? No. There’s a guy in the car next to me giving me weird looks.”

  There was a growl on the other end of the phone which transported me back to when I was naked and so was he. “If he glances in your direction again, he’ll have to deal with me.”

  I steered the conversation away from him possibly beating up a stranger and asked, “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Naked.”

  There was a clunk followed by a rustling. “Now I am. Your turn.”

  “Oops.“ I gulped. “We’re moving,”

  “Liar.”

  “No really,” I protested.

  My palms were bathed in sweat as I was swept back to when his huge length slid inside me and his scent claimed me along with his hands and cock. But as I struggled to stay in the present, memories dragged me further back to that day at the airport when the aroma had my eyes swimming with tears. I lost control of my thoughts as images of my dream floated in front of me. I batted them away as I inched the car forward.

  “Gabe? Are you still there?”

  A sob escaped my lips.

  “Gabe? What’s going on? Is it that fucker in the other car?”

  I blurted out, “Is that you, Brad? Do you come to me every night in my dreams? Why don’t you show yourself?” I was on a roll and couldn’t help myself. “And the airport? Were you stalking me?”

  “Gabe?”

  Traffic had slowed again, and I rested my head on the wheel exhausted, regretting I’d babbled nonsense, and yet relieved at having put into words what had been niggling me.

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  “It’s okay.” And it was. I was headed to him. “Cars are moving. I’ll be with you soon.”

  He was waiting outside his place when I arrived. Sadly, not naked, though the neighbors were probably relieved. He brushed tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “What’s going on? Did something happen at work?”

  I leaned on his shoulder as he led me inside. “No. I’m just tired,” I fibbed. “It’s been a long day.” A loud rumble emanated from Brad’s throat, and he got a weird expression on his face, as he had at mini golf. He pulled away from me, cleared his throat. “Beer or wine?”

  “Wine, please.” I lay on the couch, a hand resting over my head. He’d been gone a while, and I opened one eye, and not seeing him, I stood up and took a few steps toward the kitchen. He was leaning over the sink, talking to himself.

  “You’re not making any sense,” he said. “It was just a dream. Means nothing. I refuse to put my trust in a fantasy no matter what was in the book.”

  He slammed his hands on the counter. “No, you shut it.”

  I flung myself back on the sofa as Brad’s scolding voice reached me, “Stay where you are. Who’s the boss here?”

  Tiptoeing back to the sofa, I grabbed a cushion and covered my face. My earlier outburst over the phone had drained my energy. He’s grappling with something big. I peeked at him again and noted him shaking his head and raising a clenched fist. Talking to yourself wasn’t odd. I did it when I was wrestling with a problem. Unlike me. My dream has merged fantasy with reality. So on the weirdness scale, I was numero uno.

  Fourteen

  Brad

  My bear had gone and lost it, pushing at me so hard I was arguing with his sorry ass out loud. And the dumbest part—I knew he was right and yet I still argued.

  Not right about the marking him here and now. No. On that he was hella wrong. But the part about Gabe already knowing but not. Yeah, that part was correct.

  Gabe had dreamed of me just like the book of old said he would, and what did I do? Panic. Great. Just freaking great.

  And then...because why not make matters worse, I pushed through my connection to Soren as Alpha and told him to get his sorry ass here. I mean, really? Fight with your bear and then telling your alpha what the fuck to do was pretty much the dumbest combination of moves I’d ever made.

  And yet there I was, doing exactly that.

  I walked back to see Gabe, not liking him so far away, and found him cowering on the couch, hiding behind a cushion.

  “Gabe, honey, are you okay?” I asked, seeing full-well he was not.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt.” He pushed the cushion down and onto his lap. At least he wasn’t scared of me, which had been my biggest worry when I first caught a glimpse of him with that thing covering his face.

  “I was just—you weren’t interrupting. I was talking to my boss.” Which was true even if not by the means he’d assumed.

  “I didn’t see the phone.” Because there wasn’t one. “Do you need to go to work?”

  “No. It wasn’t a work thing. He’s coming here, though.” I sat down on the edge of the couch, and he flipped around snuggling into me.

  “This okay?” he asked.

  “So much better than,” I reassured him, leaning back to make it more comfortable for him. “You’ll like Soren.” Please let that be true.

  His body tensed up. “I thought it wasn’t like that with him. I don’t share.”

  “It very much isn’t like that with him, and if you think I want anyone else’s lips near you...I haven’t made my intentions clear...” He settled a bit.

  “Want to tell me about what happened in the car?” I asked. I only heard bits and pieces of it, but there was no mistaking that he had dreamed about me and that it somehow clicked on his ride over here. I hated that I wasn’t with him when it happened.

  I hated that I had to call my best friend instead of being alpha enough to show Gabe who I truly was.

  “Not really.” He sighed, his weight now fully on me. “I just...I’ve been having a dream since...for a while now.”

  “And you think it’s about me?” It was. I could feel it in my bones. My bear could also, only his solution was rather different than my own, and I needed to keep him at bay which was the only reason I pretty much gave my Alpha an order. Normally that was not something Soren would tolerate. If I shifted for Gabe now, the probability of me having any control over my bear was nada.

  “I didn’t say—oh, I kind of did say that. Can we not talk about this and just be for a minute? I feel calmer here like this, and I want to enjoy it until your friend comes.”

  I didn’t hate that he was jealous of Soren even if he had not a lick of reason to be.

  We stayed like that until the rumble of Soren’s truck echoed in the driveway. “He’s here.” I kissed the top of his head. “And remember, this doesn’t change anything.”

  “Not helping,” he mumbled as I stood up to answer the door. Great. I was making it worse.

  Soren was standing at the threshold wearing a shit-eating I told you so grin.

  Whatever. As long as this all worked out and I wasn’t left without my mate, I didn’t care.

  “Come on in and meet Gabe.” I walked back to the couch to find Gabe standing, eyeing down Soren to which my Alpha laughed.

  “Asshat,” I growled at him, putting my arm around Gabe to reassure him.

  “Sorry.” Soren toed off his shoes. “I’m preparing for a deposition so I don’t have a ton of time.” He pulled off his shirt and Gabe curled into me.

  “Not my thing,” he reminded me.

  “Not mine either, omega.” Soren started to work his zipper. “But I have things to do, but also I need to help my sorry excuse for a Beta out.”

  “He’s not a beta. Trust me.” Gabe came to my defense thinking Soren was somehow insulting me by calling me by the wrong designation. Which he wasn’t nor would he. We valued all of our den, alphas, betas, omegas, non-designated alike.

  “It’s my job.” I held him closer. “Like a title.” He just nodded into me as Soren dropped his pants down and stepped out of them.

  “What he said. I’m the Alpha, he’s my Beta, and we are all exactly as
you dreamed.” Soren met my eyes and I gave him a subtle glance. “We are all—” and just like that he shifted in front of us.

  Gabe screamed out, “That’s not my bear. He’s not. He’s not my bear.” And his knees buckled as he slipped out of consciousness.

  My eyes went to Soren and his face registered what I was feeling. Shock that Gabe had fainted. Surprise his heart hadn’t stopped beating. Relief he hadn’t run away screaming. I stroked Gabe’s cheek willing him to be okay physically and to open his eyes but also dreading what would happen when he woke up.

  Soren immediately shifted back as I scooped him up. “That could’ve been worse.” He shrugged as he reached for his clothing.

  Easy for him to say. I felt as though I’d been put through a wringer and I gulped mouthfuls of air, wishing my pulse would slow. “How so?” I grumbled, putting my cheek near Gabe’s face to make sure he was breathing.

  “He knew I wasn’t his bear, meaning—”

  “He knows my bear.”

  “Exactly.” He pulled on his jeans and then, as if changing his mind, took them off again.. “Now let’s get him awake. I wasn’t kidding about the deposition. The Hanson case is proving to be a pain in the ass.”

  He was so calm about the whole thing. Of course it wasn’t his mate. It was mine.

  And he knew my bear. Not just that I was a bear, but enough to recognize that Soren, who looked remarkably like me in bear form, wasn’t me.

  Everything was going to be okay.

  Probably.

  No, it was. Fate didn’t make mistakes.

  That doesn’t mean I couldn’t.

  Soren walked out as I kneeled in front of Gabe wondering the best thing to do next and came back in with a cup of tea and honey, which he handed to me.

  “Now wake him up,” Soren commanded as he shifted back into a bear. I had no idea what he was up to, but I trusted him with my life—and my mate.

  Fifteen