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Reign: A Royal Military Romance

Page 68

by Roxie Noir


  “I’m going to ask you one more time—“

  “Or what?” Brock asked. “Or you’ll kill both of us at once?”

  Jake, still human, bared his teeth at them.

  “She doesn’t love you enough to love a bear,” Violet said. “We sent her home, and she went.”

  “Are you going to do anything about this?” asked Brock, taunting him. “Or are you going to slink off again?”

  “I was a kid,” said Jake. “And I don’t need twenty other grown men standing around to take you down now.”

  “Let’s go,” said Brock, and he began to shift without bothering to take his clothes off.

  So did Jake.

  There was a ripping noise as their shirts and pants tore off of them, ending up at tatters at the feet of two enormous grizzly bears. Just like before, they circled each other, sniffing and grunting, looking for any weakness.

  Brock was the first to lunge, his enormous bulk moving faster than seemed possible, a blur of light brown fur across the small clearing. Jake saw it coming and dodged away, hoping to catch Brock off balance as he lunged but he dodged back too far and only got a little fur when he cuffed the other bear.

  They circled again. Jake desperately wanted to attack, to send the other bear whimpering off back into the forest. Fifteen years ago he’d have done just that, but now he was older, wiser, and stronger. He knew that going in too fast gave the advantage to Brock, and even though all he could think about was finding Ariana, he forced himself to be patient.

  Suddenly, Brock rushed at him again, but when Jake reached out to meet him, he stopped. A feint, but Jake was off balanced already moving forward too fast, and he stumbled. Brock hit him hard, sinking his teeth into Jake’s shoulder as he briefly lost his footing but Jake rolled over and shook him off, panting.

  His shoulder hurt but he could ignore it, but as they circled again, he could tell that Brock noticed that he was favoring his left arm just a little.

  I have to end this, Jake thought. I’m a little bigger and stronger, but he’s been defending his position as alpha for years. He’s got much more experience.

  He ran at Brock and snapped at his hindquarters, just catching a little bit of flesh with his claws. It was a bitch move, he knew, but he had to find some way to throw Brock off. After all, the fight wasn’t about whether he was the next alpha — it was about getting Ariana back, which was much more important.

  It worked. Brock turned his head and snapped at him, putting himself off balance for just one moment but Jake used that moment. He rose up on his hind legs and so did Brock and for a few seconds Jake wondered if he’d miscalculated, both bears hanging in the balance. It felt like it could go either way and Jake pushed with all his might, trying to find purchase for his teeth in Brock’s neck.

  His back foot slipped, just a little. Jake dug his claws in and gave one last, mighty push, using every last ounce of his strength, thinking only of Ariana.

  It worked.

  Brock went over, crashing onto his side, into the wet grass of the clearing. As he went down he tried to claw at Jake but missed, on his side.

  For just one moment, he was vulnerable, and for that moment Jake wondered if he should have mercy on Brock — let him get up and go back to Alaska, without ever having to tell anyone what had happened in Washington.

  Then he thought of Ariana, somewhere, cold and alone, terrified. He thought of Kaitlyn, left for dead in a parking lot fifteen years ago.

  With one mighty swipe, he struck Brock in the head, and he heard a slight crack.

  Before he had time to think there was another roar behind him, and he turned to look just in time to see one grizzly bear tackle another, pinning the first to the ground.

  He turned back to Brock, making sure the other bear was limp, and then took in the other scene. The bear on the ground was a female — Violet.

  The bear on top was... Boone?

  He padded over to the other two, where Violet was uncomfortably on the ground, her neck between Boone’s teeth. They were both breathing hard, and Boone looked at Jake.

  Jake, as a bear, shook his head.

  Violet began to shift back. Her eyes full of tears, her gaze flicked between Jake and Brock.

  Jake looked over his shoulder, only to realize that Brock had begun shifting back as well. At the very least, the other man was unconscious. Jake shifted as well.

  “Where is she?” he demanded as soon as he could speak.

  Violet snorted.

  “What did you do with her?” he roared, his voice filling the otherwise quiet forest.

  Boone, still in bear form, snorted.

  “Let me up,” she said. She had a set of claw marks across her shoulders, and they looked painful. Jake nodded at Boone, who sat back.

  “Tell me now,” Jake demanded.

  “We sent her home,” Violet said, gently prodding at her wounds.

  “She’s not there.”

  “To Boston, you dolt,” Violet said. “We can’t just murder humans like the good old days.”

  Jake roared and grabbed her by the shoulders. Violet gasped in pain, but looked brave.

  Boone, next to Jake, snorted. He shook his bear head, then gestured toward the trees. His meaning was clear: Let’s just go.

  Jake wanted to murder both of them and leave their bodies in the clearing, but they hadn’t actually done anything to Ariana, and if Boone didn’t want to kill them either, what right did he have?

  He pointed one finger at Violet, starting to shift back. “Don’t come back here,” he snarled. “This is my territory and don’t you ever fucking come back here.”

  Violet just watched him with those cold blue eyes of hers.

  Then, he and Boone walked back into the forest.

  He took the back roads around town, driving to his cabin. While he didn’t care who saw him naked, the last thing he needed was to be pulled over in the nude with bite marks in his shoulder. At the very least, it would raise some interesting questions.

  At home, he quickly gathered more clothes into a backpack, then made sure his wallet had his credit card and ID in it. He thanked his lucky stars that he’d thought to get it from his pants, and that his new job as a ranger had required him to have a government-issued ID. Getting his birth certificate from Alaska had been a pain, but now it meant he could fly to Boston instead of taking a bus or something.

  On his bed was the shirt she’d worn the night before. For a moment, he held it in his hands, then put it to his face and smelled, deeply.

  It still smelled like her.

  Jake stuffed it into his pack, hoisted it on his shoulder, took one last look around his cabin, then left.

  On the way to the Seattle airport, he wondered if he should just call her, but thought better of it. Maybe she was still on an airplane. Worse, what if she’d decided she really did want to leave him? He knew she loved him — be believed it, deep down, even if she’d never said it back to him — but if she didn’t want to live a life where grizzly bears routinely mauled each other, he couldn’t blame her. After everything he’d put her through, it was understandable that she might want to date a normal, human, guy.

  He had to see her again, though. He didn’t think he could stand hearing her say that over the phone. If she turned him away, he would deal with it, but he had to see her one last time.

  When he finally got to the airport, it was after midnight and all the ticketing desks were closed. Jake silently cursed his lack of foresight — of course he couldn’t just show up at an airport and get a ticket to Boston at one in the morning. He should have called or something, or better, gone to bed and gotten up early. At least then he wouldn’t show up at her door looking like a disheveled mess.

  But now, it wasn’t like he had an option. Other people were lying around the airport, trying to get some sleep, on benches and in corners. Jake followed their lead and stretched out against a wall, his backpack behind his head. He fell asleep smelling Ariana on his shirt inside it.
/>   No airline had an available seat on a flight to Boston until almost eleven the next day, so Jake ended up pacing the terminal for even longer than he wanted to, eating terrible food and nearly snarling at a TSA agent. When he finally got on the plane it was a middle seat and his knees pressed into the back of the seat in front of him — it was clearly not made for anyone over six feet tall, let alone six-foot-five.

  He closed his eyes and thought again of Ariana, and he felt better.

  The flight was unpleasant. Jake had never flown before, and every time they hit turbulence, he thought they were going to crash, but if either of his seatmates thought it was strange for a tall, burly guy to look terrified at the slightest bump, they managed not to show it.

  When they landed in Boston it was evening. Right away he got into a cab — another first — and handed the driver Ariana’s address.

  “Settle in, buddy,” the cab driver said. “It’s rush hour.”

  The cab ride felt worse to Jake than the plane flight, knowing he was so much closer to her, and yet moving so slowly across this labyrinthine city. The ride cost him almost a hundred bucks, nearly everything he had in his wallet, but it led to her door.

  He got out. The cab drove off. He looked again at her address: #2.

  Jake walked up a staircase on the side of her building, trying to walk as quietly as possible. It was after dark, and he didn’t want her to think he was a robber.

  He knocked on her door, three times, loud, heavy knocks.

  9

  Ariana

  The pint of ice cream was empty, the chocolate was all gone. Normally, Ariana would have rolled her eyes at what a cliche she was, but she just didn’t care today. She’d had to leave the man she loved — desperately, whole-heartedly — behind, and she was going to eat all the goddamn ice cream she wanted.

  The episode of Friends she was watching ended, and the next one began, automatically. Then the text popped up on the screen, courtesy of Netflix: Are You Still Watching Friends?

  “Yes,” she muttered to herself, pushing the button on her remote. The theme song came on.

  Then, someone knocked on her door. Ariana looked down at herself.

  “Fuck,” she muttered. After the plane ride she’d put on pajama pants and an old sweatshirt. That had been about ten hours ago, and she hadn’t bothered to change since then.

  Well, whatever. She didn’t care who saw her like this right now. It was probably just the UPS guy with a package or something, and she was sure he saw worse every day.

  The knock sounded again, and she got up from the couch.

  “Coming,” she called, and pulled her front door open.

  Jake stood there, filling her doorframe. Ariana clapped both hands to her mouth.

  Joy flooded through her, followed quickly by terror. What was he doing here? She’d come back to Boston to save him, not so he could follow her and get himself killed!

  “You can’t be here,” she blurted out.

  Jake took a deep breath. “I understand if you don’t want me any more, but I had to see you one last time.”

  She blinked in confused. That wasn’t what this was about.

  “They said they’d kill you,” she said. Tears formed in her eyes, and she started to get choked up. “She told me — she said if we were ever together again, they were going to kill you because there was one of you and three of them...”

  “Shh,” said Jake. He smiled, and right away, Ariana felt a little bit better. He put his hand on the side of her face, and she leaned into his touch. It had only been a day, but she’d missed him so much...

  “I took care of it,” Jake said. “They’re not going to bother us anymore.”

  “Really?” Ariana whispered, her eyes bright with tears.

  “Really,” said Jake, and he bent down to kiss her.

  Ariana had thought she might never get to kiss him, but here he was, in her apartment, in Boston. She kissed him greedily, wanting to never let him go again. Her lips moved against his, and everything felt right with the world.

  She wanted him. She needed him.

  He broke away from her, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding, and she realized that he was still standing in the doorway, the door open to the chilly Boston night. With both hands, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, drawing him to her. For a moment she remembered what she was wearing, but then she decided that if he didn’t care, she didn’t.

  Jake kicked the door closed with one foot, bending down to kiss Ariana again, her lips soft and yielding beneath his. She put one arm around his neck and the other around the back of his head, pressing his face to hers.

  “I thought they’d taken you,” he said, his lips still grazing hers. “I thought you were dead.”

  Ariana kissed him desperately, her tongue questing through his mouth.

  “They said they’d kill you,” she said, between gasps for air. “She said they’d kill you if I didn’t leave, and that—“ Ariana broke off.

  Jake bent down and began planting kisses down her neck, brushing against he crewneck of her sweatshirt. “And what?” he said.

  “She said I’d never be enough for you because I’m not a shifter,” Ariana blurted, fast, all in one breath.

  Jake held her face in his hands, looking down at her, very seriously. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

  “That’s utterly wrong,” he said. “You’re everything I could ever want.”

  A tear rolled down Ariana’s face. Jake bent down, tenderly, and kissed it away.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you too,” he whispered back. Their lips met one more time, a little harder than before, and all at once Ariana felt a deep need spreading throughout her.

  She needed him, now. Still kissing him, she ran her hands down Jake’s hard, muscled chest, feeling every individual ridge there. It only made the flames of her desire run hotter. She fumbled with the top button, not willing to take her lips off of his.

  “Mmph,” said Jake, drawing his head back. “It’s a snap.”

  Breathless, Ariana tore his shirt open. Jake just grinned, and looking at him made Ariana laugh, kissing him again. As their tongues tangled together she moved her hands lower and lower, brushing through his still-thick chest hair, reaching for his belt buckle.

  In a flash, that was off too, and then she was unbuttoning his pants, reaching inside his boxers without bothering to take his pants off pants his knees.

  She found him hard already and squeezed him in her hand, hard, and was rewarded with a low, guttural groan from somewhere deep in his chest. He’d shrugged off the shirt and held Ariana tight to him as she slowly ran her hand up and down his hard member, savoring every second as she did. He was already leaking precum, a clear indicator that his desire was running as hot as hers.

  Ariana kissed the scars on his chest again, moving down slowly, intending to get on her knees but instead she felt strong hands holding her up. Jake chuckled at her.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said.

  She had no idea what could possibly be a better idea.

  Quickly, he had his pants and boxers off and stood in front of her, totally naked, a sculpted testosterone god, standing in her living room. The episode of Friends was still playing, not that Ariana could pay any attention to it.

  Then he bent down and scooped her up, and faster than she could blink, she was held aloft, in his arms. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and nearly squealed with delight.

  Ariana expected him to carry her to the bedroom, but it seemed he had a better idea — the kitchen table. All it had a was a small pile of mail and a spoon, and he put her down, gently, peeling off her pajama pants as he did, and then, as she sat up, taking off her sweatshirt. Suddenly was was naked, too, and Jake was right there, his throbbing bulk between her legs.

  “I want you right now,” she said, her hands roaming all over him. Had there ever been a more perfect specimen of manhood, she wondered? Probably not.
/>   He chuckled again and pushed her back onto the table. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle either, and he held her down at the same time that he moved his lips slowly down her neck, her collarbone, to each delicate nipple, then quickly past her bellybutton. He paused to position her knees over his shoulders, and then, his hot breath was on her mound, and he began licking her.

  Just like always, he was slow at first, his tongue dancing delicately up and down, from her entrance up to her clit and then back down, teasing her, making her ache with anticipation. She secured her hands in his hair, no longer afraid of hurting him — he was so much stronger than her, if he wanted her to stop, he could just move her hands, but he never did.

  Instead his tongue was insistent, even a little rough — Ariana could feel his need as well, his joy at being with her again. She arched her back a little, her hands still in his hair, and moaned softly, her toes curling.

  “Jake,” she gasped. That was the only thing she could think of: his name. She grabbed the side of her kitchen table with one hand as she felt herself get closer and closer to orgasm, and she moaned again, unable to keep the sound from escaping her lips.

  If anything, he licked harder and then Ariana was there, on the precipice and she hurtled over the edge, coming hard, digging her nails into the wood of her kitchen table and arching her back up off of it.

  “Jake!” she shouted. She couldn’t stop herself — it just felt so good, and so pure, that she was compelled to shout for him, out of pure joy that he was back. “Oh, God, Jake,” she whimpered.

  He lifted his head and nuzzled his face against one round thigh, and Ariana knew that she wasn’t done. She didn’t want to be done. She wanted him in her, all the way inside, to take her and for the two of them to become one, just for a few minutes.

  Jake stood, her knees still on his shoulders. He leaned over her on the table and kissed her hard. Ariana could taste herself on him, but she didn’t mind. Somehow it was sexy, and she reached down between her legs, grabbing his hard length, and positioning it right at her opening.

 

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