by Zoe Chant
It had never been right. Misty had eventually concluded that dating wasn’t for her and moved on to focus on her work. It had hurt, but she’d told herself that that was stupid: if she didn’t like it, why was it hard to stop?
Because she’d been missing this.
Ty’s warmth enveloped her completely, his strong arms supporting and enclosing her. She felt like she could just relax, for the first time in...she had no idea how long, and he would hold her up, no problem.
“Wow,” she sighed. “I could stay like this forever.”
“Me too,” he murmured into her hair.
She frowned to herself, thinking about that. In the safety of his arms, she felt like she had hours to ponder, and like she could say anything she thought, and it would all be fine.
“I suppose I don’t see what it’s like from your side,” she said finally, a little muffled by his chest. “This feels so—safe. I’m not used to feeling safe like this. But you’re on the outside. What do you feel?”
“I feel like I have the most precious thing in the world in my arms,” he said. She could feel the throb of his voice through his body, almost more than she could hear it with her ears. “Like everything I could possibly want is exactly where it should be. And what could be safer than that?”
She smiled a little, warmed by the thought. And by the feeling of his body pressed up against hers. His arms weren’t the only muscular thing—his chest was basically a wall of muscle, and she was suddenly more and more aware of the heat of his skin underneath his shirt, the movement of his breathing. The masculine scent of him.
Misty pulled back, looking up into Ty’s dark eyes. “There’s one thing I keep meaning to ask you, and forgetting,” she said.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “And what’s that?”
“Is this a date?”
The smile broadened. “What, you haven’t figured that out yet?”
“The clues are there,” Misty admitted. “But I thought it would be best to lay it out in so many words. Just so that there wasn’t any chance for misunderstanding.”
“I would never want you to misunderstand,” he said, more serious now. “Yes. This is a date. This is, in fact, the best date I’ve been on in—”
“Yes?” she asked, as he frowned, clearly trying to remember.
“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date,” he admitted.
“Same,” she murmured.
“But I’d say this one is solidly at the top.”
Still amused, it took her a second to really assimilate what he meant. Then she leaned back even more. “Your ideal date involves running off a couple of teenaged delinquents setting of firecrackers in the woods?”
“You’re really attractive when you’re doing your job,” he murmured. “All confident and authoritative. I like it.”
She laughed. “You were the one who got them to listen.”
“Teamwork,” he amended without missing a beat. “Even sexier.”
She blushed a little at hearing herself described as sexy, even obliquely, and hoped the room was too dim for it to show.
“Misty,” Ty said, “I have never connected to a woman the way I have with you. Ever. It’s strange and it’s scary and I’ve been purposefully not thinking too deeply about what it might mean long-term, because I have a whole set life back in Los Angeles, and it’s hard to imagine it getting overturned. But it’s real. What’s happening right now is real.”
Now her heart was thundering in her chest. “You might—you’re thinking about changing your whole life? For me?”
“Am I wrong to be thinking that?” he asked. She could hear the notes of worry in his voice, and paradoxically, that steadied her. If he was just as uncertain and anxious about this whole thing as she was...
“You’re not wrong.” She bit her lip. “If you told me right now that you’d made a decision to stay here forever, I’d be so happy. But Ty, I can’t just ask you—maybe I should think about giving up—”
“No.” This time, there was no hesitation at all. “What I’ve seen since I got here—the community everyone’s slowly starting to build—the way you’re following in your father’s footsteps, continuing his legacy—no. I would never, ever ask you to give that up. You have my word.”
Misty let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Anyway,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “maybe this is all a bit premature. We haven’t even kissed yet.”
She blinked. “We haven’t.”
It was suddenly the silliest thing in the world. Why hadn’t they kissed yet, when they were talking about rearranging their entire lives for each other? Misty was laughing breathlessly when Ty caught her mouth with his.
The rest of her laugh disappeared into the incredible heat of the kiss. She forgot anything else, any thoughts or considerations or anxieties, and devoured Ty’s mouth.
God, he tasted so good; he felt so good under her hands; he smelled so good; how could any one person be such a delicious joy to every sense? She just wanted to touch him all over, taste him all over, listen to his noises and feel him shudder under her hands.
His hands, meanwhile, were exploring all over, palming her curves, slipping into the slight gap her waistband made at the small of her back and making her shiver.
“Where,” she gasped between kisses, “where can we—”
“I’m in the guest room,” he rumbled, “which is—this way—”
Misty was horribly afraid they weren’t going to make it there, because she could feel that he was hard in his jeans, pressing against her hip, and once she realized that, she couldn’t help leaning into him, grinding a little, desperate to hear what kind of noise he’d make.
He didn’t disappoint—his low, wanting groan was everything she’d wanted to hear, and it made the muscles jerk deep in her stomach. Her sensible, no-one-will-ever-see-this underwear was probably soaked. Her clit was pulsing with sensation, and he hadn’t even touched her there yet.
“Oh, God,” he said, “we’ve got to be quiet, everyone’s a shifter, they’re going to hear—”
Misty blushed at the thought that anyone out there might know what they were doing here in Lynn and Stella’s house.
But the blush was lost in the heat that had overwhelmed her body. She meant to step back, but when she put a bare inch of space between their bodies, she felt the gap like it was a thousand miles, and had to step forward again, reach up and pull him down for another kiss.
He came willingly, tasting her mouth, his tongue clever and dexterous, making her wonder what it might do elsewhere on her body.
“Bed,” she gasped, and he nodded.
“Yes. Okay. This way.” He tugged her backwards, kissing her with every step, fiddling with the buttons on her shirt. “Why is this uniform so hard to get off you?”
“That’s not really its—primary purpose—” Now that they weren’t plastered up against each other, she realized she could get her hands underneath his shirt, confirming to herself that he had a six-pack hiding beneath it.
“Stairs,” Ty muttered. “Okay.”
The stairs were a problem. Misty told herself they could reward themselves with a kiss for every stair. The problem was, one kiss would melt into another, and soon enough she was pressed against the banister, legs spread, with Ty’s narrow hips between them, half-wondering if they could just strip down right here, because she was aching with the need to have him inside her.
What is happening? a tiny, rational part of her wondered. I’m never like this. Ever.
Her doe had nothing to add, just a full-hearted wave of desire and approval.
So Misty let the tiny voice slip away, wrapped her arms around Ty’s shoulders, and opened her mouth to his next kiss, tipping her hips forward and sliding her hands up under his shirt again.
They panted together for a long moment, the ridge of his cock hard against her clit, grinding in desperate little movements. Misty was fascinated by t
he way he was falling apart, the clear hunger for her—for her. She wanted to eat it up, swallow every noise he made, every harsh exhale.
He tore his mouth away for just a moment and said, “We can do one more stair. Come on.”
Misty did not want to stop, at all, but she summoned up the ragged remains of her self-control and followed Ty up another stair. And then forward momentum kept them going, and then she could see the top, just three stairs away. “Almost there,” she murmured, and together they stumbled into the hallway.
“Made it.” She kissed him in reward.
“Not quite, it’s—down there—oh, forget it.” Ty muscled her up against the wall, unbuttoning her clothes frantically. Her shirt was gaping. Ty made a noise of frustration when he found the undershirt beneath it.
“Sorry,” Misty gasped. “It’s just an old T-shirt, do whatever you want to it.”
Ty leaned back, met her eyes, and ripped the shirt in one sharp movement, from neck to waist. A surge of excitement went through her at the sight of it—no hesitation, no struggle.
And that strength was all hers.
Right now, at least.
Misty shook that thought away and shrugged out of her uniform shirt, the pieces of her T-shirt, and struggled with the clasp of her bra. Ty was kissing her breasts, his mouth hot, sending twitches of pleasure down to her clit. “Oh,” Misty heard herself saying, “oh—more—”
Blindly, he ran his hands down her stomach until he found the button of her pants. He jerked it open, slid down the zipper, and came up to kiss her mouth as one of his hands slipped inside her panties.
Misty moaned, the noise totally uncontrollable, as his big hand found her soaking wet clit. He rubbed hard with his fingers, catching the shapeless mass of pleasure that had been gathering heavy inside her abdomen and bringing it to a single sharp point, centered on his fingers. Misty’s noises grew in pitch.
Then his hand slid down even further, his palm finding the spot where his fingers had been, massaging in circles, as one finger slipped inside her where she ached so much, filling that need and making her clutch hard at him as her legs gave way.
His other arm caught her, hard as iron, keeping her up, bracing her against the wall as he moved his hand, his finger stroking inside her, his palm moving roughly against her clit, as the pleasure grew sharper and better and better and—
“Oh.” The sound felt like it was torn out of her as she came, pleasure wrenching through her body as she convulsed in Ty’s arms, shuddering in orgasm.
“Mmm,” he said, sounding immensely satisfied. “Wow. That was good.”
Misty caught her breath, feeling like a puddle of jelly, and stared up at him. “But you didn’t—” She checked, first with her eyes, and then with her hands. “You didn’t.”
Ty groaned as she touched him, outlining the shape of his erection with one hand. “No,” he said, sounding strained. “But I wasn’t going for that. I wanted to see you come. And it was gorgeous.”
Misty flushed. I wanted to see you come. She’d never been much for dirty talk, but that wasn’t dirty so much as it was honest.
And if she was honest, she thought she wouldn’t mind hearing Ty talk dirty. In fact, the idea was making her very aware that his hand was still in her panties, his finger still inside her.
Watching her face, he stroked his finger in and out again. Misty closed her eyes in pleasure.
“You think you can go again?” His voice was low, aroused.
Misty nodded. Then she really looked around. “Maybe in the bedroom this time?”
Ty started to laugh. “I meant to get us there.”
The motion of his laughter was jiggling his arm, and the effect on his hand made Misty shudder. “Come on,” she said breathlessly, “we’d better move now.”
He laughed harder, but pulled his hand out of her pants—Misty tried not to make a protesting noise—and led the way to a door about three feet away.
Misty shook her head. “We could’ve made it.”
“I couldn’t have waited one more blessed second,” Ty said, and held the door open for her. With his dry hand.
Inside was a pleasant room that Misty was able to take in for about four seconds before Ty caught her around the waist, kicking the door shut behind him, and bore them both down to the bed. Misty almost protested, but then got distracted by kissing him again.
“Clothes,” he said into her mouth.
Misty nodded, but couldn’t quite bring herself to take her hands off of his body for long enough to undress. Ty seemed to feel the same, and this problem occupied them for a few minutes until Misty had the brilliant idea to start taking Ty’s clothes off. His jacket had fallen off somewhere in their adventures on the staircase, so she just had to pull his shirt over his head, tugging impatiently when he wouldn’t lift his arms.
“Come on,” she said, “it’s not fair. I haven’t seen you with your shirt off yet.”
That persuaded him to pull back so she could strip it off, and then she was transfixed by the sight of all of his rippling muscles, thrown into stark shadow by the moonlight coming through the window.
But she couldn’t appreciate for long, because he was getting his fingers under her waistband, pulling her pants down her hips, and she had to do the same for him. And then finally, finally, they were both naked.
Ty rolled them over until he was between her legs again, only this time, there was nothing between him and the slippery wetness between her thighs. Misty tilted her hips up, thighs spread wide, feeling wild and wanting in a way she’d never, ever known before.
He reached down, sliding his fingers through her folds until he found her opening, circling a finger around it. “You’re ready?”
“Come on,” Misty ground out, and he laughed.
“Message received,” he said, and guided himself to her entrance, then pushed in with one long, tight thrust.
Misty’s head fell back as she felt him settle inside her to the hilt, pressing up against all the aching, empty places that had been screaming for his cock. It was a relief as much as a pleasure, having him inside her, like she was finally complete.
Then he started to move, and the pleasure rose like a wave to overwhelm everything else.
Misty had never had sex like this. They licked at each other, biting and grabbing every part they could reach, grinding into one another with full desperation. Every movement sent a bolt of ecstasy through her, and every breath brought her to a higher level of pleasure.
She wasn’t sure when she started to come, exactly. It was like the throbs of pleasure just increased and increased until they were blinding, until Ty’s body, his breath, was the only thing she could think about, the only thing that existed in the world.
And at some point, Ty kissed her hard and started to shake, and she knew he was coming with her, and they fell together into bliss.
***
When Misty came to, she realized two things.
One, they’d fallen asleep. It was still night outside, but she had no idea how long they’d been out.
The second thing quickly chased any other thoughts from her mind.
When Ty had slid inside her, there’d been a feeling of utter completeness, not just in her body, but in her...heart. Her mind. Her soul. Something.
And even though they weren’t physically joined anymore, that sense of completeness was still there, a warm pulse of certainty and joy inside of her chest. Misty had never felt anything like it, but she knew what it was.
Ty was her mate.
She turned over, carefully in case Ty was still asleep.
But no, his eyes blinked open as she moved, and he met her gaze with the same sense of gravity that she felt in her bones.
“So that’s what it feels like,” he whispered, wondering. “I never thought I’d find out.”
“Me, neither,” said Misty. “I was sure I was—meant to be alone.”
Ty pulled her close, kissing her temple, holding her tight. Misty clutched at him,
feeling like her emotions were all caught in her throat.
The realization that she wasn’t alone, that she was one half of a whole, sat strangely inside her. It felt good, but raw. Like a half-healed wound she hadn’t even realized she had.
They held each other for a long time, just soaking in the knowledge that they’d never be alone again. Misty could feel him breathing against her, and the swell of love in her heart was like nothing she’d ever known.
“I thought I was meant to be—not alone, exactly, but to be helping others,” Ty said finally. “Like my sister and her husband; they have six kids, and I spent years and years being dependable Uncle Ty, always there to babysit or drive someone to practice or take the healthy ones when some of them were sick, that sort of thing. I thought that was my calling. It was part of why I became a social worker, because I liked the idea of that.”
“And now?” Misty asked quietly.
“Now—I’m not sorry I did all that, of course, I’d never undo it. But I never knew that there was so much more for me, even after that was all done.” He pulled back to look at her, a smile breaking through the seriousness, and Misty smiled helplessly back at the sight of it. That bright, sunshiney grin was hers, now, she thought.
And the man attached to it. It seemed like an embarrassment of riches.
“Well, I guess I’m moving to Montana after all,” Ty said, which distracted her from her appreciation.
“Wait, I don’t want to completely destroy your life,” she objected. “I meant it, before. Earlier.” When they’d been talking about him moving here, but it hadn’t seemed quite real. Because it was ridiculous to talk about that with someone you’d only known for one day.
But if they were mates, it all actually made sense. It all was real. She wanted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.
She wasn’t. This man was real—and his offer was real, too. He wanted to move to her home, to be here with her forever.
But—“We should both make sacrifices,” she made herself say. “It shouldn’t just be you.”
