Shifters in the Snow: Bundle of Joy: Seventeen Paranormal Romances of Winter Wolves, Merry Bears, and Holiday Spirits

by J. K Harper

  My level-headed, oh-so-nice Gina, her eyes shining with a feral need to protect what was hers.

  Me.

  Deep down she knew.

  And, damn, it was hot.

  She sucked in a breath, searching my face as though I held the answers. Not a hint of fear. Not a single tremor.

  Wait…

  I scented the air, dragging in her intoxicating smell until it sat heavy on my tongue. Lilac and mint, sweet with a bite. But underneath, twining through the delicate notes…her desire. My cock thickened, her scent squeezing me tight.

  Fuck.

  My nails dug into my palms, the primal urge to press her against the wall and take what her body offered riding me until I could barely think. Breathe. Stand.

  “Admit it.” It was a growl. A plea. Almost a command.

  Her chin jutted out. “Admit what?”

  I swayed forward, testing her reaction.

  She didn’t recoil.

  “That it bothers you.”

  “It shouldn’t.” Her chest swelled with her breath, dragging my eyes from her face. Her legs bumped against the small bed.

  What I wouldn’t give to feast on her. To lay her down and lick and suck every inch of her delectable body, to trace and learn every curve until they were etched into memory. To lap at her sweet pussy, tasting and savoring every moan, every breathy cry, until she splintered into pieces in my arms.

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”

  Resting a hand on the bed behind her, I leaned closer. “Like what?”

  “Like you want to kiss me.”

  “Why not? Would it be so bad?”

  Her jaw tensed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

  An invitation?

  “Yes.”

  A low growl vibrated in my chest.

  She shook her head. “I mean, no…God, I don’t know!” But she didn’t flinch, didn’t move away.

  “How about I don’t kiss you?”

  She froze. “What?”

  Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice?

  “Do you trust me?” Staring into her eyes, I willed her to make the leap with me.

  “Yes. But I shouldn’t,” she added.

  Ignoring the spark of pain her words caused, I continued, “I don’t want to kiss you.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Then, what do you want?” Exasperation and confusion clouded her gorgeous face.

  Ralph’s words ringing in my ears, I gritted my teeth and laid my cards on the table. “I want to eat you.”

  To my utter dismay, she burst out laughing, the kind of belly laugh that had her clutching her stomach while her shoulders shook.

  “Uh, Gina?”

  Wiping tears from her eyes, she blinked up at me. “Wait…you were serious?” Uncertainty drew lines around her eyes, creasing her brow.

  Fuck. Here goes nothing. “I want to lay you down on the bed and lick you until you scream.”

  The lines deepened. “Like a popsicle?”

  Sweet motherfucking hell! Was I going to have to spell it out? Though the image she spun had a groan spilling from me and my cock straining for release. “Like my favorite popsicle, but between your legs, sweetheart.”

  “Oh!”

  Her open mouth had me regretting my offer not to steal a kiss, but if I was right, she needed this. “Has a man never made you come?”

  She blushed. Her silence was enough of an answer.

  “Has a man never worshiped you with his mouth?”

  Her breath puffed out against my cheek as her flush deepened.

  Anger tore through me as her silence revealed more than words possibly could. That in her short life, no one had ever taken the time to show her what loving could really be like, the true pleasure that could be given, as well as received. “Oh, sweetheart…let me show you. Let me give you this.”

  “Jack, I—”

  She was going to say no. “I don’t expect anything in return, this is all about you.”

  Stiffening, a wariness crept into her voice. “Why?”

  She hadn’t said no. I chuckled, wincing. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t plan for blue balls, but I’ll live. It’s not the end of the world, but you not feeling the pleasure another can give—that I can’t live with.” I shrugged, trying for casual. “Think of it as another new experience, something out of your comfort zone. If you don’t like it, you don’t ever have to do it again. But it you refuse…you’ll never know.”

  Her eyebrows rose at the hint of a challenge. “That’ll be two things.”

  “Keeping count, sweetheart?”

  “It’s starting to look like I might have to around you.”

  “Is that a yes, then?” I held my breath.

  The silence grew, her lips twisting as a million thoughts flew through her eyes, but her arousal hadn’t faded, only grown with every suggestion. I knew she wanted what I offered—craved it—but would it be enough? “Jack, this can’t go anywhere. You and me…it just can’t.”

  One stumbling block at a time. “Okay.”

  More blinking.

  Then, she sat down on the bed.

  Chapter 13

  Gina

  Shit, shit, shit! What the hell had I just agreed to? I hadn’t been thinking straight, that was it. With his soulful green eyes and big, broad, muscular chest taking up all available real estate, he’d charmed me.

  That was it. I’d been suckered by charm.

  Nothing to do with the thought of that big, broad, muscular chest burying between my legs. Or what that charming tongue could do, given the chance.

  Nope.

  But he was right. I’d never had an orgasm not given by my own hand. And even then, they were sparing. Not worth the bother. I honestly didn’t know what all the fuss was about.

  So, why did I say yes?

  Because his soulful green eyes had made me a promise, that he’d reveal all the secrets, show me why women craved this kind of attention from a man.

  Something I knew nothing about.

  Liar, the voice whispered inside my head. You crave him.

  “Gina?”

  Not having realized I’d closed my eyes, I blinked them open. “Yes?”

  “We don’t have to do this…I would never force you.” Doubt had crept into his voice.

  That was the final straw. I tried to think of one reason why I shouldn’t…and came up blank. Rule of three. “I want to.” And, right then and there, I did. I wanted to feel like every other woman out there. To not feel broken. “I need to understand…” My voice broke, my carefully erected walls rocking in their foundations. “I need new memories.”

  Eyes suspiciously bright and jaw clenched, he stared at me for a long moment. “I can do that, but if you want me to stop, tell me, and I will.”

  I believed him. I knew he wanted me—I could read it in the tension lines bracketing his mouth, the hint of pain in his eyes. Oh, and the suspicious looking large bulge he was packing in his jeans. Yeah, I’d looked. I wasn’t dead.

  But I believed he’d stop. That he’d only do what I asked. Nothing more. No matter how blue his balls got.

  Taking a deep breath, I laid down on the bed. The ceiling was a bland cream, no cracks, no cobwebs, nothing to distract me. The breath left me on a shudder, my hands stroking the cool vinyl.

  He cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair and leaving it in a messy tangle.

  I turned my head, catching his eye. “What’s the matter?”

  He gestured at me laid out on the bed. “This…it’s not right…”

  “Do I need to move? Get undressed?” My hands flew to my blouse, plucking the buttons open.

  His mouth dropped open, his eyes widening until I wondered if they were going to pop right out of his head.

  Exhilaration rolled through me, spurred by the knowledge that little old me had put that look in his eyes. He wanted me.

  His fingers twitched by his
side, curling into his palm as though to contain themselves. Heat blazed in his eyes, silver sparking at the edges until it consumed the calm green.

  Screw that, he wanted me.

  Something bubbled inside my stomach, an unfamiliar feeling that had my heart flipping in my chest. My hands fluttered against my chest, fingers curling into the soft cotton and brushing against the lace hidden beneath. Moisture heated at my core, my thighs clenching against the foreign sensation. Denim that had hugged, now felt constrictive. Cotton that had concealed, now formed a barrier I didn’t need. I wanted his eyes on me, wanted that look to scorch my skin. To burn away the layers of shame and disgust I knew I shouldn’t wear…but did.

  What had started as what the hell am I doing? had metamorphosed into a plain hell, yes!

  Gripping the edge of my blouse, I pulled it open. “Is this better?” I said, not recognizing the low, husky whisper as my own.

  He swallowed, the ridges of his knuckles turning white. He didn’t breathe a word. In fact, I wasn’t sure he was breathing at all.

  “What about this?” My hand trailed down my stomach, over my softly rounded belly, to play with the button on my jeans. My eyelids lowered, until I was watching him through a veil of black, the room fading until there was only him.

  “You’re killing me, sweetheart.” It was a low growl, an admission of the control I held.

  The power I had over him. I relished it, savored it like a sweet wine. “This is unfair.”

  He jerked like I’d physically slapped him. “What is?”

  My low chuckle sounded unlike anything I’d ever uttered before. “You’re still wearing your shirt.”

  Who was I? Where the hell was this coming from?

  He grunted with what looked like surprise, then the corner of his mouth curled up in a small smirk. “I can fix that.” Tugging his shirt out of his jeans, he flicked open a couple more buttons, giving me a glimpse of firm, tanned skin. Reaching back, he tugged it off over his head.

  This time, it was my mouth that fell open.

  Thick, flat pectoral muscles hugged an impossibly wide chest. Ridges of abs formed hard ropes around his stomach, leading down to a flat expanse arrowing down into his jeans. But it wasn’t his muscles that held my eyes, it was the trail of dark hair, a fine dusting leading from his chest, down, across his belly button, to his waistband.

  Mouth dry, I peeled my tongue from where it was stuck to the roof of my mouth. Damn. I was pretty sure I was drooling. He was so much more than I’d imagined. Bigger, stronger, sexier…

  Jack the doctor had gone, and in his place stood a man who looked like he knew how to work with his hands. The man from my secret fantasy. The one who’d be as happy chopping wood, sans shirt, complete with dirt streaked, gleaming skin, as he would be pinning a woman against a wall and having his wicked way with her. Throwing her over his shoulder and carting her back to his cabin in the woods for an afternoon of fun. Or a week. Or maybe a year.

  The man looked like he had stamina, that’s for sure.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” I whispered.

  The smirk faded from his lips.

  Summoning my courage, I blurted it out. “I want you to kiss me.” I needed him to kiss me. So much, it physically hurt. The thought of not feeling his lips against mine, of not tasting him… It would be my first proper kiss, a first I had held close and dear, hugging that last remaining innocence tight. But I wanted to let it go, with him.

  At his gesture, I scooted over on the narrow bed, against the wall. He lowered his large frame so he was laid, resting on his side. Head braced in his hand, elbow cocked, he stared down at me, his eyes telling me I was doing a shit job of hiding the thoughts flying through my head. Tracing a finger across my cheek, he circled the corner of my mouth, then back up to tuck a strand of hair behind my cheek.

  Silence stretched between us, the creak of the bed, each breath the only disturbance in the quiet room.

  His eyes stayed on my face, steadying me, searching me as though he wanted to make sure.

  I forced myself to speak, to shatter the spell. “It’s just here and now. You understand, right?”

  “I remember,” he replied in a steady voice.

  Much steadier than I was feeling, my nerves already shot to pieces. I was clinging on by a thread, my heart playing rat-a-tat-tat inside my chest. I was with a man and I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t fighting for my life. I wasn’t retreating to that place inside my head, where no one could find me. I wasn’t drugged and flying high. I was here. Now. And I wasn’t scared.

  I tilted my head, willing him on.

  It was as if he’d been waiting for my signal, his head lowering, his lips brushing across mine in the softest of touches. Like warm silk, firm and smooth, but ever so soft. A contradiction in itself. How could he be so soft, when he was so hard?

  His breath heated my skin, feathering across my lips as if waiting for permission to continue.

  I closed the gap, pressing my lips against his in a clumsy parody of what he had just done. Flesh sealed against flesh, breath mingled, skin heated. I brought my hands up to his chest, smoothing my way across hard muscle, nails digging in as his lips parted under mine, firmly coaxing mine to follow his lead.

  A shudder ran through him, his big frame shaking under my hands as I allowed him entry, his tongue darting out and sweeping into my mouth on a groan.

  It was foreign. Strange. Erotic. Hot. So hot I was near melting in his arms, near begging him to never let me go. To keep this feeling forever.

  Forever.

  I stiffened.

  He froze.

  I pulled away, eyes anywhere but him. Tugging my blouse closed, I shrank back against the wall that blocked my escape.

  I had no right thinking of forever. Wishing for it. Not with my secret.

  Chapter 14

  Gina

  “Gina?” His voice was a low rumble, the vibrations traveling on the air and tugging at that place low in my belly.

  “This was a mistake.” One I would treasure forever. But a mistake.

  “You’re wrong.” He stated it firmly, but frustration warred on his face.

  “You said you wouldn’t push me, that if I wanted to stop, I could.”

  He blew out a long breath, closing his eyes briefly in what looked suspiciously like pain. “And you can. I will. But it wasn’t a mistake.”

  It was pain. The tell tale marks dug into his skin, tightening his jaw and brightening his eyes. I had done this to him, pushing him to this. I had to make him see why. “I have something I have to to tell you,” I blurted out.

  “So do I.” Steely resolve had darkened his eyes. Without another word, he rolled off the bed and onto his feet. A brief smile at the way I couldn’t peel my eyes away from his chest, then his resolve was back. “Shall I go first, or you?”

  Seeing as he probably wouldn’t want to talk to me once he heard my story, I motioned for him to continue, making quick work of sliding my buttons shut and adjusting my blouse back into place. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I watched as he paced the room, agitation clear in his jerky movements, from the hand sliding through his hair, to the sharp turn when he reached the wall.

  “Jack, what is it?”

  Spinning on his heel, he took a deep breath. “Do you know what a true mate is?”

  Unbidden, my hand flew to my neck, sliding beneath my blouse to caress a familiar rough patch of skin.

  “No. Not that. Never that.” Anger sparked in his eyes as he glared at the hidden scars, where I had been savagely marked and mated by Lizzie’s father.

  And the baby’s father.

  “Then no, I’m not sure I do.” I had an idea, sure. I’d seen the mated pairs in the Smithrock and Colstone packs, how they were together, how much love and affection they shared. But I didn’t pretend to understand it. How could I? I’d been mated against my will.

  “Shifters believe in a goddess, some call her The Mother of All or Mother Nature, humans refer to
her as a he, there are many other names for her around the world. It is said that when she created us, choosing the soul of an animal and pairing it with the soul of a human, before she blessed us with a body, she paired us with another. Our soulmate. The one who would complete us; mind, body…and soul. Our animal half recognizes the twinned soul, and when we join together, it is known as a true mating. A thing of beauty and joy. A bond is formed between the two that can never be broken, soul to soul.”

  What he described sounded so… “Wow.” It was inadequate, sure, but how could I begin to understand something so opposite to what I had known? “Why are you telling me this? I’m human—” I stopped, before the longing welling up inside of me reached my voice. A longing I shouldn’t be feeling. It had to be the kiss, it was still affecting me.

  He held my gaze. “You are my true mate.”

  I slid off the bed, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. “Me?”

  “Yes—”

  I sidestepped around him, backing away. “I can’t be! You’re wrong.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You don’t want me for a mate—”

  “I do.”

  “What about Lizzie?” I blurted out, trying to make him see.

  “What about her?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “She’s not yours.” I clamped my hand against my side, resisting the urge to brush my stomach as a reminder. I didn’t need to; the baby was never forgotten.

  His brow furrowed, frustration squaring his jaw. “I would love her.”

  He would? Could he love the baby? Again, my hand inched toward my stomach. Halting it mid-motion, I forced my shoulders to relax. “Why would you? How could you?”

  He shrugged, but tension lay thick under the forced gesture. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s a child—your child—and hopefully, she’ll be mine, too.”

  A chasm opened up inside of me, filled with yearning and hope, the walls truly beginning to crumble as he poked a crack in the foundations. “I—I need to think. Lizzie will be finishing her studies for the day, I need to get home.” Lurching for the door, I yanked it open.