Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  “They wanted you to kill her on your dad’s orders?” she gasps.

  “My father wanted her gone, and the higher ups told me to do it!” I growl, my anger still seething after all these months.

  “Jesus Brig, it was supposed to be about saving people,” she says sadly, laying her forehead against my chest when emotion overcomes her.

  “Yeah, well, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

  “I have to go back there, Brig. I know you don’t understand, but—”

  “No, I don’t. Because you won’t tell me!” I growl, shaking my head when she opens her mouth. “I don’t blame you, okay. I haven’t exactly proven trustworthy, have I? Look, let’s stay here for a bit, just until you’re stronger, and we figure out what to do. We may as well get the worst of the snow behind us,” I say and sigh, looking out the window where new flakes are already falling.

  “Okay.”

  Her easy acceptance has me grinning for many reasons, the most prevalent one being that I really do want to spend a few days with her, having hot sex and pretending that we have a shot at something.

  I know it’s not reasonable of me, but for just a few days I want this female to be mine, truly mine, before I have to let her go. I don’t want to do it, part of me knows I can’t do it, but for now, I want happiness. Happiness is me pretending that we’re just a normal pair of shifters, enjoying life before she goes home and lives happily ever after, while I leave and disappear into the wild.

  “Come on, female. Let’s go outside and see if you can shift and heal. I’ll do a perimeter check while we’re at it, and then maybe if I am really lucky, you’ll let me check you out when we get back,” I suggest sweetly, making her lips twitch.

  “We shouldn’t get involved. You know that, right?” she asks, her voice soft and vulnerable.

  Stroking a hand down her bruised cheek, I smile and shake my head, knowing that she’s right but not wanting to care or acknowledge it.

  “I know that I want you, Barbie Kendall. Jesus, I hate that name, female, and I know that I have wanted you for far longer than I care to admit. I’m leaving here soon, disappearing where no one can come at me ever again, and I don’t want to do that and spend the rest of my life wondering what we could have been together. Maybe I’m wrong here and you don’t want me, if that’s the case, fine, I step back and won’t mention it again, but if you do want me, then you owe it to us both to give it a shot,” I tell her solemnly, swallowing when my wolf howls his denial.

  “I—”

  “Don’t owe me a thing here, so don’t think that I’m going to use the life debt against you. I was trying to be a bastard when I threw that in your face, babe, nothing more and nothing less. Right here and now though, it’s just me asking you to want me back,” I say, going out on a limb even if it makes me feel like a total pussy saying this stuff.

  Beebee swallows, drops her head back down, and curls her hands into my skin, the tight grip telling me how conflicted she is and how vulnerable I can make her if I try.

  I like this side of her. Hell, I like every side. Her bubbliness, her stubbornness, the anger and violence she’s holding in her tiny body, and this side, the female who is alone and afraid and doesn’t want to be hurt again.

  This side, I like a lot because it makes me feel like a male knowing I will keep her safe.

  “I want you too, Brig. I’ve wanted you for a long time now. I just…I don’t want this to ruin me. Maybe I won’t have much after I leave here, but leave me with something good, okay? Don’t make me want this and then send me back with pain inside me,” she begs, breaking my heart for the fear my actions have caused.

  I did this. I made this female feel as if she can’t trust in me, so I don’t blame her one bit for feeling this way.

  “Baby, all I’ll give you for the next two weeks is pleasure, and I promise you, we will think of a way to fix this. Together,” I vow, leaning down to kiss her cheek to seal the promise. “Now come on, that ass is hideous, you need to shift and run a little, let your animals heal you, and I need to make sure we’ll be safe here for a while.”

  Taking her hand, I lead her out of the cabin and into the crisp morning air, letting the worries go and replacing it with excitement and a healthy dose of lust.

  For the next while I am forgetting that instead of staying to fight for my pack I’m leaving to live my life and I’m going to forget by getting lost in the body of a tiny little mixed breed with eyes that captivate me and a body that makes me hard as hell.

  “Come on, baby brat!” I yell, laughing when she narrows her eyes at the nickname, the reason I called her Beebee to begin with.

  My B.B, baby brat of the finest.

  “Shut up, elitist prick! For the next while we’re not elite or mixed or even a deserters or fugitives,” she quips, jumping down to grab a pile of snow and toss it at me. “We’re just two people on vacation, having hot sex and not caring how cheap it sounds.”

  I laugh, lunging after her when she leans down to grab another pile of snow, her bark of surprise turning into a squeal when I tackle her and take her down to the fluffy ground.

  “Deserters, huh?” I mock growl, pinning her down to shove snow in her face and down the neck of the thermal shirt.

  She screams, wiggling around until I’m trapped in the cradle of her thighs, my dick hitting her bared sex and filling when she wiggles again, only stilling when she feels the hard length against her.

  I’m grinning wickedly when she stops and blinks up at me, her eyes going round before they go lazy, filling with desire.

  “Oh my, what a big…you have, ” she whispers, making me bark a laugh against her mouth when I lean down to kiss her.

  The first touch of our lips sends a zing of awareness through me, a spark that makes me so hard it hurts. I grind my cock and open my mouth over hers, licking into her slowly so that I can enjoy the plush softness of her lips and that first taste of her that bursts over my tongue.

  I taste coffee and something sweet that makes me dive in for more, the kiss becoming heated the more I taste her. I’m so gone in the kiss it takes me moments to realize Bee’s pushing at my shoulder and wiggling beneath me, only not for my dick, even if it’s trapped against her and rubbing all the right spots.

  “Shift, heal, hot sex,” she moans, titling her hips up when I push down and run the head of my dick against her hard clit, the scent of her arousal shooting fierce lust through my senses.

  Forcing myself to move and groaning when her heat is no longer against me, I push up and bring her with me, leaning down to peck her lips softly.

  “Shift, heal, hot sex,” I agree before loping off to check the perimeter and get this done quickly.

  Hot sex.

  That’s all I think about as I run through the snow barefoot and use the cold to calm down.

  Hot sex.

  With Beebee Kendall, my dream girl.

  Chapter Six

  Beebee

  I’m still panting and regretting my decision when I watch Brig jog away, his bare upper torso flexing and that fantastic ass bunching with every step he takes away from me.

  I watch until I can’t bear to see that sexy sight anymore and calm myself, closing my eyes to call on my wolf. The animal is rearing to get out and get healed, the smell of my pain driving her nuts before I call on the change and open myself, accepting the transformation.

  The initial shift isn’t great for me and never has been because two animals vie inside me trying to get out simultaneously. As usual, the wolf wins out because I let her, shoving the cougar back to stop the conflict.

  It’s always like this, I think, feeling my bones pop, skin stretch, and blood heat to boiling point. I always have to fight them. Sometimes, I let the cougar win because sometimes she’s just what I need. She climbs trees, stalks silently, and isn’t as wild and uncontrolled as the wolf.

  Today, I want wildness and that fast rush of adrenalin that will bring on the healing rapidly. With the food and rest, I have the
reserves to make this work—unlike yesterday and last night when every drop of me was focused on running.

  Now that I don’t have to keep my fur just to survive, I can use the animal inside me to knit bone, mend skin, and soothe the bruising. When I’m on all fours, my russet coat flickering in the cold breeze, I throw my head back and breathe, the wolf relishing the freedom even when I don’t let her run.

  In this form, I can feel more, hear more, see more than I can in skin and what I see holds me spellbound. Everywhere I look I see trees and white, the landscape a clean blanket that makes me think of fresh starts and clean slates, as if the view is reminding me just how much I screwed up.

  Flopping down into the snow, I rest my head on my paws and close my eyes, feeling the changes run through me. My ass, that black and blue mass of flesh is tingling with renewed blood flow, and my leg feels at least a little better when I flex it to test the bone.

  I don’t even register the healing cuts or bruises on my face because they heal so rapidly, but I do let myself feel the repair that takes place in my claws, the nails reattaching to the nailbed in a whoosh of glorious relief.

  By the time twenty minutes have passed and I’m as healed as I can be, I let the wind stroke over me as I call back the wolf and soothe her with promises of other shiftings.

  I’m just rolling over and reaching for the thermal when Brig comes stalking back into the yard, his step faltering when he sees me naked against the snow.

  His face transforms, going from intent male to an absolute awe that makes me feel breathless with relief and open desire. Not saying a word, keeping my eyes on his, I reach over for the shirt and pull it on, smiling when he scowls and stalks forward.

  “Not fair, I was enjoying the sight of your ass in the snow.”

  “Well, I was freezing my lily-white ass off,” I quip, laughing when he throws me over his shoulder and starts stroking my ass and squeezing the soft globes.

  “Can’t have this ass cold, now can we?” he purrs, making me wiggle, and man, when he runs his hand over my globes and down, softly stroking the tiny area where my sex peeks out between my thighs…

  Usually, I’m not that confident about my body, having been with one male who commented about what I look like, as if I’m not perfect or some shit.

  I stopped him mid-head, slapped him so hard he lost consciousness for a second, and left with my perfectly beautiful vagina dry as a bone. Loser.

  “Bee?” Brig asks, shaking me slightly so that I realize we’re in the cabin and I’ve been lost in my head thinking about what is about to happen.

  I haven’t had sex in months, not after that idiot made me feel bad about myself, and no, it’s not just that I’m self-conscious now, it’s that I just stopped and thought, Hell, if I can walk away from meaningless sex that easily, I probably shouldn’t be having meaningless sex.

  I’m self-conscious, afraid of what I feel for Brig, and so scared that this will ruin me forever in a way that means I won’t ever get over him. I long ago stopped dreaming about Fated mating, my thinking being that I won’t get one because I’m a freak. I have two animals. Most people think I’ve settled on one, and that makes it easier, but what will a male say if he knows I can kick his ass in two forms.

  “Beebee?” he asks again, making me blink and look up at him, my throat working when I see the extreme color of his eyes, his animal making them pulse electric shades of blue at me. “Babe, if you don’t want to do this—”

  “I do. I really do!” I rush out, shaking my head with a smile. “I’m just a little nervous now that it’s happening. I haven’t exactly slept with tons of guys.”

  Brig smiles, liking that, I think, and leans down to place me on the bed, his arms caging me in as he leans over me.

  “I don’t think that’s a bad thing, Bee, and trust me, baby, it’s not up to you alone to make this good for us both. Now stop worrying and get naked, female. I want to taste that little fold between your legs—badly.”

  The purred growl has me rising to do just that, my hands shaking as I pull off the shirt, my lack of underwear getting me down to skin in mere seconds.

  Once I’m naked, on display and fully open to him, I see Brig pause and look me over, the way he bites his lip while his eyes flash blue making me tremble and soak between my thighs.

  The way he’s looking at me is carnal, a blazing arrow of heated stare that tells me more than words he likes what he sees. Breathing deeply, my breasts heavy, my sex aching, I sit down on the bed and lean back, laying myself out for his eyes in a way I haven’t done before.

  I feel vulnerable and strangely excited by it when I raise my legs and open myself, showing him every part of me.

  “God, baby, you’re so fucking pretty,” he says on a groan, his muscles going tight as he stands completely still and just stares at me.

  His eyes go all over me, my breasts, my sex. Hell, I think he goes between it all at least three times before he growls and lunges, his body coming over mine in a fluid flow of graceful aggression.

  His mouth lands on mine, tongue licking into me with a quick slide he repeats over and over again before he clamps a hand to my jaw and angles me, opening me wider.

  When he spears his tongue into mine and sucks it into his mouth, I almost shoot off the bed it feels so good, as if electricity bolts from the point where our mouths meet straight to my clit.

  The longer he kisses me, the more aroused I become, the way he flicks at my tongue echoing in my sex in pulses of heat.

  “You taste so good. So sweet.” He moans when I pull away to draw air into my lungs, my body on fire for him now.

  I am not just aching between my legs now; it’s a throb that feels like a hammer strike every time it beats through my sex. Moaning, and so wet I can smell myself, I arch my back in offering, silently pleading for more.

  “Tell me what you want, baby,” he groans, looking down at me with eyes that blaze brilliant blue.

  “Touch me.”

  “Where, baby? Tell me.”

  I blush, my face heating when he grins but take his hand in mine and places it on my breast, gasping out a cry when his fingers close over the globe, his index finger and thumb pinching at my nipple and sending shocks to my core.

  “Just a touch, baby?” he teases, watching my face when I blink, the pleasure-pain of the pinch making me sigh and plead for more.

  “Brig.”

  “Nuhuh, Beebee. If you want it, you have to tell me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do to you? Do you want me to suck you here? Bite your nipples?”

  Yes! Do that! I plead silently, my cry of frustration ringing out and making him smile seductively.

  “What about your sex? What do you want me to do, baby? Should I…?”

  He reaches down, his words trailing off when his hand skims onto my mound, pausing on the soft skin just before he reaches my slit. I almost scream when he tickles me there, the touch too soft and not close enough to my pleasure center to do anything but drive me crazy with anticipation.

  “Brigger.”

  “You know what I want to do, Bee? I want to spend hours here,” he croons, lowering his head to suck my nipple and nip the tip with his teeth.

  I lose all sense when he does it and push myself closer, crying out breathlessly when he sucks and sucks and sucks, switching between my other breast until he has me so needy I’m trying to hump his hand and rip his hair out.

  “Does that feel good, baby?”

  “Brigger! Oh God, do it!” I moan, writhing to get his hand to move down.

  “Do what, mishcia? Tell me, my little brat, what do you want?” he chuckles.

  I can hardly breathe, think, or form a coherent thought. All I know is that I am burning between my legs and the scent of his arousal is so strong I can smell his pre-cum without seeing his dick.

  I want touch, his mouth, his length splitting me in two.

  I need it.

  I—

  “Tell me, sweet baby, please. I’m so hard for
you, Bee. All my animal wants is for me to push you open, plunge deep, and release everything I have into you. I want…I need to make this good. Tell me what you need,” he says on a growl, the sound a plea more than a demand.

  “Anything! Everything. Please, Brigger, I’m burning inside. I feel as if I’ll die if you don’t touch me!” I cry out, my sex pushing forth an embarrassing amount of moisture.

  I can’t even feel embarrassed though because before I can cry out again Brig is moving, his hands spreading over the inside of my thighs and pushing me open.

  He groans when he sees my sex, and any embarrassment I could feel dies a quick death when he growls how perfect I am and closes his mouth over me.

  Heat.

  I feel heat and smooth, silky flesh meet mine, his tongue lapping first at my entrance and then up to my clit before slipping down again. He laps at me, as if he loves the taste pooling at my opening and can’t decide whether to suck on my clit or suck me up.

  I don’t care right now, not when the pleasure mounts, not when he thrusts a finger into me and latches onto my clit with great, sucking pulls of his mouth.

  I love it the ferocity, the animal growls, the way his fingers dig into my thighs so hard I know he’ll leave little bruises there, his own personal mark just for me.

  I build, fast, with every suck and flick he makes against my clit, my eyes rolling back in my head when he curls his finger inside me and scrapes over my spot, the contact making me clench everywhere at once.

  “That’s it, mella. My little mishcia. Make me give it to you, baby. Uuuh, yeah baby. Use me to get off. Push that sweet heat into me,” he says, snarling when I start moving and using his fingers to take my pleasure.

  “Brigger!”

  “Come, Beebee! That’s it, baby. Come on my hands and face. Take the pleasure.”

  His snarl is what I need to let go, the demand that last little push that sends me into orbit as my sex clenches once, twice, and then quakes in wave after wave of such pleasure that I see stars when it hits me.