by Liza Street
“Shitty. I don’t like sleeping as a bear, but I like sleeping in the dirt as a human even less.”
“This is just because you want to talk to me so bad?”
He didn’t answer. It was more than that. He wanted to talk to her, sure, but it was more that he couldn’t settle down to sleep when he thought she was hurting, or when he felt she was too far away.
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Get dressed, and come inside.”
It wasn’t in his nature to obey an order, but an order coming from Nina? Yeah, his bear was quite happy to obey, especially if it involved getting even closer to her. He pulled on his clothes and followed her inside.
“So, talk,” she said. “Go for it. Tell me all the reasons that you apologized for screwing me.”
Her eyes flicked to the wall where they’d done it. Her cheeks turned pink.
So, she’d thought of it more than once over the past few days, too. Subtly, he sniffed the air. The memory aroused her, too. The past few days, he’d wanted to jerk off so bad, but the guilt had overcome him, and he wouldn’t let himself.
He cleared his throat. Made himself look away from her tits rounding out her worn t-shirt. “The only mistake that happened the other night was me apologizing for something that had been perfect.”
She nodded and walked to the door, opened it. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less, but thank you for apologizing.” Her voice wobbled, and she looked like she might cry again. “Now that we’ve talked, will you go and sleep in your own cabin?”
Was this a defense mechanism of hers? Asking people to leave when she was feeling hurt? He hated the idea of leaving when she was sad.
Moving slowly, he came to stand by her side. “Is that what you really want? Tell me the truth, Nina. Do you want me to leave?”
“Yes,” she whispered, but they could both hear the lie.
“Dammit, woman. Tell me the truth, otherwise I’m going to behave based on your lies. Do you want me to leave?”
She lowered her gaze. “No. I want you to stay.”
“You don’t care that I’m an old man?”
“No. How old are you, anyway?”
“Thirty-six. And you’re…?”
“Twenty-three.”
“So young,” he said, his gaze unsure.
“I’m old enough to know I want you.”
He lifted her chin, bent his face to hers, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She kissed him back, tentatively, until he gripped her waist with his hands, just enough pressure to remind her that he was serious.
With a soft moan, he slammed the door shut. After locking it, he backed them to the little sofa. He pulled her onto his lap, letting her straddle him, as he continued giving her little tiny kisses all over her face.
He wanted her more than anything. He wanted to bury himself in her, dive into her body and never come up for air. At the same time, he needed her to trust him, and to know that he wasn’t doing this just because he was caught up in the moment or because his brain was clouded by lust.
“Up we go,” he said, pulling her up to stand in front of him.
“W-what?” She blinked at him, her hazel eyes still darkened with desire.
“Hot chocolate.”
He padded toward the kitchen counter, and she trailed after him.
“You’re…kidding, right?” she said. “Kisses to hot chocolate?”
“You like both, don’t you? Your blog said so.”
She laughed. “Oh yeah, in that post where I called you an alphahole.”
“Right.” He mock-glared at her, then opened cupboards until he found her hot cocoa mix.
He could feel her next to him as he read the directions. Seemed simple enough. Heat up milk, pour into mugs, stir in the cocoa mix. But Nina was right there, a live wire of sexiness sparking with heat and igniting the need within him.
“You’re going to have to stop that,” he said.
“Stop what?” she asked, her voice too innocent, her eyes too bright.
“I want to do this right. Get to know you. Learn more about you.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she said, rapidly, “I’m Nina Michelle Vidal, and I’m twenty-three. I love to read and I run a romance book blog and I’m a mountain lion shifter and I love hot chocolate. I scraped my knee really bad when I was six and I still have the scar. I thought I was in love with someone for a lot of years but I actually wasn’t. No visible scar from that. Right now, I’m living without thinking much further ahead than what book I’m going to read next. There. Now you know me. Let’s skip the hot chocolate and get back to kissing.”
He laughed, a full laugh that started in his gut and startled him.
Nina put a hand on her hip and tapped her foot. “I’m waiting.”
“Not only are you beautiful, but you’re cute,” he said, grabbing some milk out of the refrigerator. “Tell me about the next book you’re going to read.”
While she explained the set-up of a contemporary romance that involved an indie music-loving woman and a hot professor, he finished heating the milk and poured it into the mugs. He added in the cocoa and stirred, then passed one mug to Nina and kept the other for himself.
“A hot professor, huh?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. He took a sip of the hot chocolate. Damn, this stuff was good.
“Really, that’s the only thing you heard?” Nina said. “Figures. They go on a road trip. I love road trip stories.”
“Are you on a road trip?” he asked her seriously. “Are you just passing through?”
She sipped some hot chocolate. Her hazel eyes were wide and thoughtful. “I…I don’t know. I thought I was. But I like it here.”
Jameson liked her here, too. He didn’t want her to leave. “What’s your favorite part about this place?”
She gazed at him tenderly for a long moment, then said, “Jake.”
He nearly spat out his hot chocolate. “What?”
This time, she laughed, throwing her head back, her mouth wide, eyes squinting in mirth. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, the look on your face—it was priceless. If I could’ve filmed that—”
She continued to gasp and giggle. Jameson shook his head. “If we weren’t holding hot beverages, I’d tackle you to the floor,” he said. “See who’s laughing then.”
With a flirty smirk on her face, she set her mug on the counter. Jameson growled. She was tempting him, goading him on purpose. She wanted him to tackle her.
He set his mug down, too, and growled low in his throat. “You’re playing with fire, woman.”
“Nope,” she said. “I’m playing with you.”
Without giving her any warning, he leaped forward and crashed into her. Immediately he brought his arms around her back so that when they thundered to the floor of her cabin, she was shielded from the impact.
She squirmed and tried to buck him off of her.
“Aw,” he said, “how cute. It’s like you’re not even trying.”
“Asshole.” She squirmed harder, but he had her locked to the ground.
“I think the correct word is alphahole, right?” he asked. “You think it’s funny now?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe.”
He chuckled. “It kinda was.”
Staring into her eyes, he leaned forward. Inhaled her scent of dust, flowers, and desire. “You still want this?” he asked. “You want me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he kissed her lips. He tugged her lower lip with his, then gently bit it. Nina’s heartbeat grew erratic. Her eyes shut halfway. Smiling to himself, Jameson stood up, bringing her with him. She hugged him fiercely, holding onto his shoulders. Her legs tightened around his thighs, and he grabbed her ass. He’d be fine with taking it slow, and not having sex tonight, but then Nina started giving off the same needy whimpers she’d done the other night, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
“Bed,” he said, picking
her up.
She nodded. “Yes, bed.” Her voice was breathy.
He held her effortlessly in his arms as he took the few steps to the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed and tore off his shirt, then his boots and pants.
Nina watched him, her eyes lingering on his pecs and abs until they finally locked on his cock. “I want that,” she said.
He grinned. “I know. Get naked.”
She stood up and slowly eased down her pajama shorts, leaving on her panties. They were lacy, some kind of dark fabric, he couldn’t tell in the dim light of the cabin. Then she started working her t-shirt up over her waist and held it in place so that her breasts weren’t visible.
“Tease,” he growled.
“Yep.” She laughed, then ripped the shirt away. Braless, and beautiful. Her round breasts entranced him, and he rushed forward, knocking her back onto the bed and falling on top of her. His mouth on hers, his hands everywhere he could touch—hip, waist, breast, ass, legs, drawing her up and over him.
The other night he’d been rushed and frantic, but this time he was going to go slow and savor their lovemaking. He kissed her again, thrusting his tongue in her mouth, and then breaking away to trail kisses down her neck. He stopped at her breasts and circled each erect nipple with his tongue. Nina arched beneath him, trying to guide him with her hands and legs to where she wanted him.
“Don’t make me tie you up, woman,” he threatened.
She just mewled an incoherent response, so he saved that idea for another time.
He trailed kisses down to her belly button, and then over her soft curls to those delicious, sensitive folds of her center. “You taste so good,” he said.
“Don’t stop.”
He licked and bit her legs and thighs, then settled his lips over her clit and sucked.
She arched up again, bucking her hips, crying out his name. She went limp, but her body continued to shake.
“So responsive to me,” he said, climbing back up her body again. “So perfect for me.”
She was gasping, shaking, and trying to reach him for another kiss. “Taste yourself on me,” he said, giving her his tongue again.
She sucked it greedily while he lined himself up at her entrance, then pushed his cock inside. He could feel her aftershocks continuing around him as he pressed in. She enveloped him so tightly, and when she wrapped her legs around him, he could have shouted.
Her hips met his with each thrust, her breasts pressed against his chest. He reached down, tried to grasp her clit, but it was too hard from this angle.
“Touch yourself,” he said, pulling up so he could see her better and give her more room. “Show me how you touch your clit when you’re alone and thinking of me.”
Nina moaned incoherently. She inched her hand down to her pussy and touched it, and he watched while her fingers moved in circles.
“That’s it, my beautiful Nina,” he murmured. “Keep going. Prettier than a poem. More beautiful than language.”
He thrust faster into her. The bed shook beneath them, and she cried out, her face twisted in pleasure. Her hair fanned out around her on the pillow.
So beautiful. And his. He shouted her name while emptying inside of her.
Seventeen
Nina woke to a bright spring morning. The trees were brilliant with the sun shining against them, and her body felt used in the very best of ways. She and Jameson had made love until nearly dawn, then fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
She reached for him, seeking his warmth.
He wasn’t there.
What? She sat up and looked around. The bedspread was rumpled next to her, and the pillow they’d shared still smelled like him. He’d disappeared. A sinking feeling spread through her stomach. He’d left. They all leave.
No, she told herself. Don’t believe it. She didn’t want to be thinking of it like that. Last night they’d held each other and had all kinds of great sex.
And yet, nothing could change the fact that now he was gone.
Maybe he was just out having coffee by the fire with the clan. He hadn’t abandoned her—after all, where could he go?
She went to the living room and looked out her blinds toward his cabin. None of the lights were on, and there was no movement. Out at the fire, Gemma stood with Rex, her arm wrapped around his waist.
Jameson had left. After last night, he’d left her. It was just like what Rafe had done. Rafe had promised her everything, maybe not in so many words, and then taken off afterward.
Now, Nina had woken up alone yet again.
She didn’t cry. Couldn’t cry. Jameson wanted to be with her. She should just chill the fuck out and believe that.
But her heart, her poor broken heart, didn’t know how to believe.
“Stop,” she told herself. “Stop it.”
She took deep breaths, trying to get her emotions under control. Freaking out wouldn’t solve anything, even though, in her mind, she was fifteen years old again, and she and Rafe had finally consummated what, in her naive mind, had been a long-burning flirtation that would only lead to one thing: marriage and a life together as mates in the Corona Pride. As a teenager, she’d been thinking of it ever since Laura and Mateo had gotten together. She’d been dreaming of it. And when she was fifteen, after a group run of all the teenagers together, running as mountain lions and racing through the woods, she and Rafe had split off. The two of them together had shifted to human and started kissing, and they were already naked. One kiss led to one touch led to more and more, and they’d had sex several times before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Nina had woken hours later, alone and naked in the woods. Shivering in the early morning cold.
Rafe had left her.
It had been awful waking up alone and confused and wondering if he was coming back for her.
But the worst was when he’d pretended it hadn’t happened. Nina had wondered for days whether she’d dreamed the whole thing. But she felt different. Besides, Rafe’s scent had been all over her, and she’d had to sneak into her own house and shower. It hadn’t been a dream.
But it had turned into something more in her head. She rationalized that he was pretending indifference because they were too young to be mates yet. He hadn’t dated anyone else afterward, at least not seriously, so she’d kept hoping he would come back to her and finally they’d be together again.
Of course, it hadn’t happened like that.
“Idiot,” she said to herself. “I am such an idiot.”
Grumbling, she got dressed, grabbed her purse, and headed out to Phil. She’d drive into town, get some breakfast, calm down and figure out whether all this was in her head or not. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions—Jameson had been so attentive and tender last night, and she trusted him. She just needed to get out of her own damn head and see sense.
She threw herself into her truck, slammed the door, and started the engine.
Movement from across the clearing caught her eye as Jameson raced out of his cabin, a furious look on his face. He blocked the path of her truck before she could pull up the drive.
“You can’t leave,” he said. His angry look masked something else—concern.
“Why not?” Nina swiped angrily at her eyes, furious with herself for showing what she knew to be irrational emotions.
He stomped over to her door and wrenched it open. Phil squealed in protest.
“I’m making you breakfast,” Jameson said. “Where do you think you’re going? I said I’d protect you—you can’t just leave without telling me what’s going on.”
Her face crumpled. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry, she told herself, but when he opened his arms and pulled her out of the truck, she fell into him and started sobbing.
Eighteen
Jameson rubbed Nina’s shoulder, making circles with his palm. Warming her. She was shivering and shaking, and he didn’t have a clue what was going on.
“Nina, sweetheart. Please, talk to me.”
Rex and Gemma were over on the other side of the fire pit, but they walked back into their cabin, probably to give Jameson and Nina some privacy. Now he and Nina were alone, and he pulled her closer to him and rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Come on, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s stupid,” she said. “Just…don’t worry about it.”
“No, you can tell me anything. It’s not stupid if it has you upset.”
He could feel her shaking her head. “No, it is stupid. It’s just, I woke up and you were gone.”
“Making you breakfast.”
“But I didn’t know that! I just knew I was alone after everything that…that happened. And it was too close to something else.”
Ah, now he understood. “Something happened to you like that before?”
“My first time. With a guy I loved.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen. He was seventeen.”
He kept soothing her, rubbing her back. “I love you, Nina, I’m not going to leave you. What happened between us was between two adults who know what they want. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He’d thought she was young enough to be free of heartache because she was so young compared to him. But she was one of the bravest people he knew. She’d been through a lot of her own sorrow. Grief, he realized, filled whatever ache was in you, and it hurt no matter how big or small it was. It had lasting effects.
“You feeling better?” he asked once her shaking subsided.
“Yeah.” She nodded and looked up at him, so he leaned back to see her better. “I want to kiss you now,” she said.
“You never have to ask to kiss me.”
She leaned up and put her mouth against his. Their lips met in a kiss so sweet and powerful it took Jameson’s breath away. Could he have this, every day? Could he be with someone again like this? Hell yes, he could. He might not deserve it, but oh, he wanted it, and he wanted Nina. He ended the kiss with a soft bite against her lower lip, and she shivered.
He felt overwhelmed with gratitude and a tentative hope. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I had a mate, before.”
Nina pulled away slightly to look up at him, curiosity written in her wide hazel eyes.
