“Shit. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m getting all this wet stuff off you, and I’ll warm you.”
The talk is more for me than her while I rip her clothes off, followed with mine, and I hustle us into the dry bag, my body shaking as I try to relax and use our own heat to get us warm.
I’m still trying to rub heat back into her hands when I pass out.
# # # #
Beebee
I am warm.
It’s the first thing that pops into my head when I wake, the memory of the absolute cold making me panic before I feel my body, surrounded in heat and so toasty I snuggle down closer, sighing when I feel smooth skin and big arms wrapped around me.
Hhhmm, I could so just lay here forever and never move, I think, my mind shying away from ever feeling what I felt while in that water. I have never felt so much pain, despair, and plain wanting to die as I did when we were in that water, and to make it worse, I kept thinking that I should just die and save Brig the hassle of having to keep me alive.
By the time I couldn’t feel my body anymore, I just simply wanted to fall asleep and not wake up, just like that guy from that survival show warned was a point of no return for most humans.
And now here I am, I think, snuggled up beside my guy, and I still have all my fingers and toes and…and he did this, I think, sniffling when it becomes clear in my mind.
He must have gotten us both out of the water, carried me to, wherever this is, and made sure I warmed up.
“Stop shifting. My dick’s hard, and I am not fucking you with a bear curled up in the corner,” Brig grumbles, sighing and pulling me close as his breath puffs against my neck where he’s shoved his nose.
The position is so…cozy and familiar that I feel a pang of longing shoot through me, my inner mind whining for this exact thing. Forever.
She wants Brig as hers, and heck, so do I, I think, swallowing a fresh spate of tears when I have to face the fact that probably won’t happen. For now, we’re friends, as odd as it may be—and we’re lovers.
That does not a bonded pair make. No, even if a pair isn’t Fated but love each other enough to want a mating—like a human marriage ceremony…only cooler—they have to bond for it to stick.
I know a lot of pairs who are in love, happy, and more than satisfied with their mate—even if they aren’t Fated. Then again, I’ve met people who were mated for decades and swore they loved each other, only to have one’s Fated stroll in and throw it all ass over tea kettle.
Seeing those matings break up hurt because more often than not it was only one mate finding their Fated and saying ciao, leaving the other alone, heartbroken, and completely shamed.
God, that so sucks! And it would suck even more if I allowed myself to fall deeper for Brig than I already have. Because then what, huh? We decide we want to be together, mate, and live happily ever after?
No, I am so not into hurting myself that way. Not when I will spend most of my life thinking that he’ll leave me one day when his Fated lands on the scene, and he leaves me for her.
“You’re thinking. Stop thinking. It scares me when you think because you mess shit up using your skewed logic,” Brig grumbles into my ear, ignoring my gasp of outrage to lick my ear and take a nibble of the lobe.
I moan, seriously considering having sex with—
“Wait! Did you say a bear? Like a real life bear is in here?” I hiss, my voice trembling with fear when I peep over the edge of the sleeping bag and spot a smelly, completely wild, and very big bear nestled in the corner, its grumbled snores echoing off the walls.
“Don’t freak out.”
“You don’t freak out!”
“I’m not.”
“Oh my God. There is a bear in here with us!” I hiss, my eyes glued to it because I totally expect it to wake up and come charging at us at any minute.
He’d eat me first, I just know he would because these animals can smell fear, and I am terrified.
A bear! In here. With us.
“Yeah, I know. I met the big bastard when I first came in. Relax Beebee, he’s cool. Just as long as we stay out of his way, don’t disturb him, and don’t make a big enough fire to rouse him, he’ll leave us alone.”
“I can’t believe you made me sleep in a cave with a real live bear. You know a bear chased me for two miles on a run?” I hiss, elbowing him in the ribs when he shakes with amusement.
“Aw come on, baby. Don’t tell me a little thing like you couldn’t out run a cumbersome bear,” he teases.
“Bears run faster than you think. And besides it wasn’t just one bear. I sorta stumbled on a mama and her cub, so it was two against one. That cub was worse than its bitch mother,” I snarl, shuddering with the memory.
I so don’t even want to mention that it was a shifter family I mistook for a wild pair and that I had half the Tagger pack laughing at me for a full week.
Still, bears are scary and…and I don’t want to be here, and I want to yell at him, but he saves me.
“Relax, I won’t let the big, sleepy, slow-witted bear get anywhere near you, Bee. Just rest here a while and build up your strength because baby, you’re gonna need it,” he promises me in a somber tone, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting way that doesn’t bring much comfort.
I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I mean, I want to be all strong and tell myself that I could be fine in the wild, but the truth is, I don’t have the strength, the stamina, or the smarts to do this.
Heck, if it wasn’t for Brig, I would have died days ago—and that was my absolute best. I pushed myself past endurance to get as far as I did, and it still didn’t matter because no amount of trying would have saved me.
To be honest, I don’t think I can do this. I barely made it out of that river alive, and that was after passing out and letting Brig do all the hard work. It’s cold out; I am exhausted—even after sleeping—and my whole body hurts from the tension brought on by the cold.
I’ll just slow Brig down and get him killed.
“You’re not sleeping,” Brig says drowsily, turning me to face him where he’s scowling groggily.
“Brig I…I don’t think I can do this. I mean, I’m not strong enough to do this. You should just leave me and…and go to Helena and get Brie. Get the formula and go back to the pack,” I say honestly.
“Bee—”
“Don’t. You’re going to say that I can do it and we’ll be fine, but you know it won’t be. I couldn’t even hang on long enough to get out of the water,” I mumble, looking down at his chest where my fingers are idly stroking his hairless chest.
God, the male is magnificent, I think, enjoying the smooth skin and heat he puts off.
“Beebee, you can’t swim, that water was cold as fuck, and I kept us in there longer than I should have.”
“You kept us in for our own survival, Brig,” I counter, shaking my head. “It was me who slowed us down. I am more than aware that I almost killed us both out there because I can’t do something as simple as hold my own,” I whisper, shamed at my own inability.
Here I am, thinking I can be some sort of superspy, and the truth is that I can’t even swim to save my own life. I should have probably died long ago, I snort, my self-derision rising a notch higher.
“Don’t be such a whiner,” he grunts, making me gasp.
“Don’t be such a dick.”
“Well, then don’t be so pathetic. We’re not all three hundred-pound males with more stamina, Beebee! I run faster because I’m bigger and my wolf is stronger. I can hold more heat than you because I have more mass. I can survive longer because I am physically stronger than you, and no, that’s not me being a chauvinist, it’s fact. I knew you wouldn’t make it all the way, I barely made it myself, but I took the risk because I didn’t want to dump us out sooner and risk being found quicker. This way we have at least two days on them.”
“But I should have tried harder.”
“You did, baby. Hell, I don’t think any other fem
ale would have made it so far. I’m incredibly proud of you, female,” he murmurs, lifting my chin to bring my eyes up.
“What if I can’t make it the rest of the way? I can’t run as far as you can, Brig. I’m a liability.”
“You’re a rock star with a big heart and more courage than sense, female. I’m still pissed at you for putting yourself in this position, but I haven’t told you yet how proud I am that you weren’t afraid to do what is right. That pack is helpless, trapped, and any other shifter would either attack them or try to ignore their plight. You rushed in there without thinking, which tells me you care more about others than you do yourself.”
“Lot of good it did anyone,” I sniff, breathing through tears. “I got myself caught.”
“Yeah, but you had enough sense to ditch the proof and lay an escape. No one escapes, Bee. You did.” He chuckles, pecking my mouth affectionately.
“Barely. Those assholes were on my trail in the blink of an eye. Christ, it was not easy getting out of that cell. The only reason I did was because I had my piercing in and—”
“Piercing?” he barks, looking at me with wide eyes. “Where?”
“I’m not telling you—”
I’m blushing scarlet when he grins and pushes a hand under the sleeping bag to grasp a nipple.
“Here?” he purrs, making me moan and shake my head.
“Here?”
This time his finger touches my navel, circling the shallow indentation slowly, his eyes drooping with lust. I swallow, shaking my head again and gasp when his eyes heat and his nose flares, showing his arousal.
“Here?”
I gasp when he touches my clit, the tip of his finger circling the bud with slow, thorough strokes that have my hips bumping closer, needing pressure against the swollen piece of flesh.
“You had a piercing in your clit. Fuck me, baby, that is so hot!” he groans, playing with my fold until I’m ready to scream and say screw it, I don’t care if there is a bear in this cave.
“I, oh yes, right there,” I groan when he strokes down to touch my entrance. “I got it a few years ago to, oh, fulfil a bet I lost with Jules.”
Brig groans when he feels my moisture, his finger dipping into my channel when I open my legs and push closer.
“I want to see it there, run my tongue and teeth over it while I use my fingers inside you.”
That finger goes deeper, crooking and stroking against the rough patch of muscle inside my sex. The stroke sends sparks of pleasure winging through me, making me moan and pant against his lips, craving a kiss that he pulls away from to stare into my eyes.
“I’m going to replace that piercing one day, Beebee, and eat you out an hour later after it’s healed,” he promises, thrusting his finger deep when I cry out and pant against his mouth, my sex convulsing with every thrust of his finger into my heat.
“Brig.”
“I’m going to get something heavy, gold and a diamond, and put it there so that it tugs against you with every step you take. You’re going to be wet all the time, so ready for me that all I’ll have to do is push you down on any surface and slide all the way in. Would you like that, baby? Would you like to be ready for my dick all the time?” he purrs, pushing his finger deep and holding still while his thumb rubs circles around my clit.
“Yes!”
“That’s so good, Beebee, because I wouldn’t care if you wanted to or not, I’d do it anyway.” He growls, snarling when my orgasm hits and I explode, my sex sucking at his finger with long pulls of ecstatic relief.
I’m still panting, little shocks zinging through my clit when he pulls his hand away and licks it, his eyes daring me to look away. Seeing him, watching his eyes flare as he groans makes me want more, so much more.
“You’re beautiful when you come for me, you know that, mischia?” he asks softly, smiling when I shiver and reach for him.
“I love you, Brig.”
He stops my hand before it reaches his dick and shakes his head.
“This isn’t the time, Bee. We need to get going after we eat something.”
I nod, not saying anything when he rolls away because I can’t speak in case I cry. I may not have gotten my hands on him and I may have said those three little words, but I did notice one thing that makes me feel cold inside.
Brig wasn’t hard.
Chapter Eleven
Brig
I feel like a first-class prick as I pick up the pace, forcing Bee to keep up or fall behind, her insistence that I not take it easy on her driving me to keep going.
It’s been four hours of outright running, no stops, no water breaks, and no sign of weakness from either of us though I noticed about an hour ago that she’s winded and struggling to breathe.
I keep going though because, as much as I want to stop and give her a break, I know that our best bet is going to be distance. Distance from our pursuers…and distance from each other.
While she slept all through yesterday afternoon and the night, her wolf snuffling whenever I tried to wake her, I did some scouting and came up with one fact that I don’t like; we’re far from the pack—as I knew we would be, but still, it was a shock to see just how far.
That distance is going to be our downfall unless I make it up—just in case I need to call for help. Another thing, I can’t get too soft on her. This morning, the way she was downing herself, was enough to make me doubt her ability, and while she’s for once being realistic, I can’t have her believing we’ll fail before that happens.
So…I used sex to distract her, and dammit, I hate that. I don’t want to have to use it like a weapon against her, and yet I did, my blood turning cold with every stroke of my finger as I played her like a fiddle.
I felt so much shame that I didn’t even get hard, not even when her scent wafted up to me and made my wolf whine. He wanted in—badly—while I just wanted it done so that I could get us on the trail and not discuss exactly how screwed we are.
Shit.
The one thing I was counting on was making her feel nothing but pleasure, and I couldn’t get hard enough to finish the job. Shame courses through me, making me run harder, as if it’s possible to run from myself and the thoughts plaguing me.
The major one, the thing that’s making me want to howl, is that things have been so good with us that I had this unreasonable idea that we’re Fated in some way.
I mean, just look at it all in context. We have phenomenal sex every single time we come together. I haven’t ever wanted to bite a female as much as I want to bite Beebee.
Her scent, her body, every inch of her calls to me in a way that makes me want everything with her. And yet, it’s just not there. I don’t feel the stirring of my instinct, the beginnings of a bond, the need to blood her and scent mark her.
All I feel is insatiable lust when I kiss her and touch her body, the need to get in deep and stay there so strong that sometimes I have to force myself to stop before I hurt her with my passion.
That’s been bugging me since Cyrus and Rylan left, and the more I think about it, the more I panic because I know that if we pull this off that’s it, we’ll be done. I’ll have no choice but to go to Alaska while she’ll stay in the pack—hopefully. If I have any say in the matter, she won’t be behind bars.
Beebee is a female of worth, a family girl who needs all the love she can get while I want separation, freedom, a chance to shape my own life. In a way, I think I am like Bear, the Silverton Alpha’s son.
I don’t want to be trapped in a mating, and yet I long for the Fating, to feel that connection with my female. Beebee is great, and I adore her, but I won’t mate her and then one day risk having her meet her Fated.
That would kill me, and rather than risk it, I think it’s best to keep things on a level footing. Friends. Lovers. Hopefully survivors.
“Brig.”
I hear her gasp and come to a stop, twisting to see Beebee bent over and clutching her knees, her chest sawing out wheezing pants of air as he tri
es not to collapse.
“I need to drink…some water.”
Cursing, I grab a bottle from my pack and stomp her way, my irritation directed at myself because I’ve been in my own head for so long I didn’t even consider that she can’t run for long without staying hydrated.
“Here. Sorry, baby, I should have stopped long ago.”
“No, it’s…fine. I can keep going. Just needed…some water,” she pants out, downing the bottle and rising, her face hard with determination. “I can keep going.”
“We should rest—”
“No. You said it yourself; we need to make better time.” She scowls, shaking her limbs and stretching. “We’re just inside the Flathead area, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then we keep running. If we stay at this pace, we can get to the city and avoid Whitefish altogether.”
“I think we should stop overnight and rest in Whitefish. I doubt we’ll see pack there—what with the winter tourism being in full swing,” I counter, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and the pinched look around her full lips.
“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t about getting close to Greyriver, Brig. It’s about getting to Helena, so you can help me get to Brie,” she insists, handing me the empty bottle to shove into the pack.
No sense leaving anything more to scent mark the place.
“What’s the rush? Just a day ago you were okay with my plans to go close to Whitefish and the pack,” I point out, my tone changing as my frustration rises when she shakes her head.
“Because I know what you have planned Brigger, and I’m not gonna let that happen. You think you can trick me into being spotted and hauled back home so that you can go on to Helena and get to Brie,” she says and snorts, her voice going hard. “I am not going home before I have that formula.”
“You mean before you get yourself killed!” I snarl, pacing away when she just looks at me without answer. “It won’t be that bad, Bee! Hannah’s been in the cells more than a few times now, and she says it’s great. Prissy Silverton is a good cook; they won’t starve you; and I’ll even ask Hannah to smuggle you some books or a phone so you can call your parents and work things out.”
Greyriver Shifters Page 58
