Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series)

by Julian, Christine

  When she withdrew from him, and refused to meet his eyes, panic chased through him. “What’s wrong, baby? No, better question, what can I do to fix it?”

  Her gaze lifted and wetness lined her lashes. “That’s a beautiful thing to say, Mason.”

  He pressed a palm to the center of his chest. “I mean it.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a man as true and devoted as you.”

  “What do you need, honey?”

  “I need to talk about what I saw.”

  “Did something scare you?”

  Her hands fidgeted in her lap. “You did.”

  Shit. The blood drained from his face. He swallowed, a little guarded. “What did you see?”

  “I’m not really sure.” She nibbled on her lower lip, eyes cast down again.

  As she searched for the words, he took the opportunity to stoke the fire back into crackling brilliance. His nerves scraped raw while he waited, worried he might be screwed and have to cough up the truth.

  She inched closer to him. “This might sound crazy.”

  “But…”

  “Mason, I saw your face change. Your body, too. You seemed to…shift. Right in front of me. I have no other way to describe it. It scared me.”

  Facing her, he affected the most non-threatening pose possible. “That sounds like it might scare anyone, to think someone is something other than what you know.”

  He held his breath, then let it out in a slow, resigned exhale. The time had come to reveal all of himself to her.

  “The truth is, Steph, when I feel cornered, or something threatens someone I care about…I turn into a bear.”

  Silence dropped like a curtain between them.

  Stephanie blinked at Mason.

  He looked so absurdly serious, like their friendship—or whatever this was between them—hinged on her response.

  A zany sensation bubbled up inside her. Her eyes crinkled.

  Then she burst out laughing.

  She couldn’t help it. The strange look on his face made her erupt into uncontrollable giggles.

  Wiping a tear from her eye, she regained her composure. “Yeah, well, when I’m scared I turn into a chicken.” She stuck out her elbows and flapped them. “Bwock.”

  In the absence of his response, she snorted and cracked up again. She playfully slapped his arm, waiting for him to share her amusement.

  Revealing a crooked grin, he chuckled. “Fair enough.”

  “Come on. That isn’t hilarious?” she asked on a final hiccup of laughter.

  He issued a primitive snarl and pinned her to the bedding. “Would be—if it wasn’t true.”

  Slanting his head, he sealed his lips over hers. His tongue sweeping possessively through her mouth made her sizzle. He broke their kiss to pull her sports bra up over her head, then he cupped one breast in his hand, the other framing her face, as he dove into her mouth again. Lips pressing, teeth tugging, tongues tangling. He made love to her mouth, and she couldn’t get enough.

  Thoughts dissolved into intense emotion, melting into heightened sensation. The way his hands searched her body, caressing her, she felt like a Michelangelo sculpture, existing for his appreciation. Never had a man touched her, affected her, to the point of intoxication. He did.

  Their kiss turned from passionate to primal. He lulled her into a hypnotic trance with his talented mouth. The only thing keeping her from an out-of-body experience was his immense, unrelenting erection against her panties.

  After a lingering kiss, he left her lips to explore the sensitive skin of her neck, behind her ear, down to the curve of her shoulder. He seemed invested in every millimeter between her chin and her collar bones, as if searching for an intimate spot he hadn’t yet discovered.

  Why he’d reignited the fire, she couldn’t guess, since the air was plenty warm. And so was he. His skin radiated heat, while his body radiated sensuality.

  This wasn’t just sex.

  How she knew that, she wasn’t sure. But this was more. They were more.

  Ambient light glowed behind his huge shoulders, offering a sexy silhouette of the hot man nibbling her neck. She imprinted the vision in her mind, determined to remember every moment of him ravishing her. She’d never been ravished. Hadn’t understood the meaning of the term, until him. Bucket list, checked.

  Gliding her fingers through his hair, she heard him groan against the top curve of one breast. So she repeated the motion, clenching her fists in his hair. That seemed to drive him wild. He attempted to inhale her left breast, moaning, massaging the generous curve in a circling path around her puckered areola.

  Then he paused, as though reigning himself in, before moving to her right breast, gently flicking her nipple with the tip of his tongue. The gentleness didn’t last. He devoured her. Cupping her, sucking hard, edging his teeth along the sensitive pebble.

  While he tongued her breasts, he nudged her with his erection. So she ran her nails lightly along his spine, luxuriating in his attentiveness. He moved his mouth lower, tracing each curve he encountered, dropping kisses as he traveled toward her juncture. He delivered scintillating swirls with his tongue. The sensations drove her wild. Before she reached climax, he positioned himself at her opening. He pressed his thumb against her quivering flesh. She hit orgasm as he entered her with a single, sharp thrust. She cried out in pleasure.

  With a long moan, he stayed still, as though absorbing her inner muscles convulsing around him. Then he began to move. He nipped her skin, inflicting tiny, stinging bites that unleashed a new realm of heightened excitement. She couldn’t remember experiencing intimacy this raw, this unrestrained, this passionate.

  After her first orgasm, Mason waited for her to ride the high before he pulled out and flipped her over.

  The firelight caressed her curves, and hunger dominated him.

  He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing—when it came to the rite, the claiming. Sexually, he had the experience to make every second pleasurable. As far as the ritual of claiming his mate, without instruction from his kind, he could only follow his instincts.

  That included the blood rite.

  He’d spent time thoroughly exploring the supple skin around her neck and shoulders earlier, inhaling her variegated scent, searching for the right spot to deliver his fanged imprint on her.

  As he embraced her head to toe, propping his weight on his forearms, he guided himself to her entrance. He lunged forward to sheath himself inside her.

  Locking their fingers together above her head, his palms covering her knuckles, he took her from behind. A wildfire raged inside, devouring each tinder of her expressive emotions. Every whisper, every sigh, every arch, every tremble.

  The flames of eternal heat engulfed him. He wedged his knee under her thigh, lifting it higher for maximum penetration.

  Nuzzling her hair aside, his mouth located the ideal place he’d found, a fleshy inch between her neck and shoulder that would bear his mark, his claim to her, for as long as they both lived.

  As his teeth scraped and primed her skin, their lovemaking transcended space and time. Excitement, weightlessness, rightness, and freedom made his spirit soar, yet he remained grounded with her as he slid in and out of her tight channel.

  Compelled to go deeper, he thrust hard.

  Instinct took hold.

  Beyond his control, his mouth latched onto her. His canines extended. He pierced her skin. Her blood bathed his tongue.

  They became one.

  In a distant part of his brain, he understood the special proteins in his saliva both numbed the place he bit while also excreting his essence into her bloodstream. Now, he was as much a part of her as she was a part of him.

  As if to seal their connection, she trembled beneath him. Perfect timing. He stroked inside her, holding back until her orgasm shook her and gripped him. He came with her, inside her, binding their fates forever.

  *

  As he held her afterward, in the fading firelight, Mason wondered
if they’d created life during their sacred act. In his world, that was entirely natural and normal. She was at the height of her cycle. His instincts had recognized that early on, which had made it so difficult to restrain himself the whole time he’d been with her. At least, until she’d met him on the same level of emotional attraction and intensity, nourishing the seed of future possibility.

  So she’d said she was on the pill. That concession had made her confident in her body’s responses. But he knew better.

  Honey, no human-made “pill” will stop my potency. That wasn’t arrogance. If the Ancestors willed it, she could be carrying the spark of life inside her right now, this very moment. Extraordinary, he thought, his soul aching for the gift of fatherhood with his one true mate.

  Holding her tighter, he appreciated the way her ass pillowed against his hips. The way her breasts mounded softly in the cup of his hand, while he held his chin in his other hand so he could gaze at her. He loved the way the firelight illuminated her beautiful body. He loved how she fit against him, cradled in the safe shelter of his arms, fast asleep.

  He loved…

  He loved her.

  His mate. His partner. His beauty.

  There was one problem. He had no experience with human/shifter mating. Would she get pregnant with his child? Could she?

  As much as he wanted that future outcome, as long as he had her, his life now held more fulfillment and meaning than ever before. A child was a gift, not a necessity. He needed her. But if he was honest, he wanted the whole package. Steph as his wife and the mother of his children. He’d never realized how paternal a mate-match could inspire him to be.

  Another issue—how would he convince her to stay? Uproot herself and leave behind her career, her friends, her entire existence to move thousands of miles away to be with him?

  An anxious, depressed sensation weighed on his chest.

  “Steph, you awake?”

  “Mmmph.”

  Not so much. “Baby, I need you to look at me. I need you to hear me.”

  Slumbrously turning in his arms, she faced him. “And I thought the man was supposed to fall asleep after sex, before the woman.”

  He cupped her chin. “What we shared is more than sex to me. I want to be with you.”

  She went very still. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “Yes.” Whatever she thought, the answer was yes.

  Her forehead puckered in consideration. “I’ve never tried the long distance thing. I’m not sure if it’s for me. Or if I’d be any good at it.”

  He stroked the creamy skin of her cheek. “You’re great at anything you put your mind to.”

  She laughed softly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Yeah, he wanted more than long distance with her. But for now he’d take whatever chance she gave him, to keep her in his life.

  “I just don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep,” she whispered. “It feels like crap when people don’t keep their promises.”

  “You’ll never have to worry about that with me. When I commit, I give it everything.” He kissed her closed eyelids. “I want to give you everything.”

  “Where did you come from?” She snuggled into him, her body warm and lush. “How did I get so lucky to stumble across you?”

  He glanced heavenward with a silent nod to the Ancients. “Mysterious forces play out in this world every day. I tend to trust, instead of question.”

  “You’re a remarkable man, Mason.”

  “Behind every remarkable man is a spectacular woman.”

  “And that’s me?” Her tone registered disbelief.

  “Yes. I want you to be mine.”

  She hesitated. “Even without promises or guarantees?”

  “Life has no guarantees. Just strings of hopeful thoughts we weave together to try to achieve the happiness we want.”

  “I would make you happy?” she asked, a little breathless.

  “More than you know.”

  “You’re beautiful.” Her words dragged as sleep caught her in its clutches again, pulling her into a dream world beyond his reach.

  “You’re everything I ever hoped you’d be.” My perfectly designed partner, created just for me.

  Gratitude welled in his heart, spilling out to form a sheen of dampness in his eyes. He’d never understood how some people could love so wholly, so completely, nothing else mattered but the other person’s happiness.

  Now, he knew.

  As long as she gave him hope, he was never letting go.

  *

  The following day turned out to be a scorcher.

  They set out on the trail early, Mason saying something about needing to get to his brother sooner than expected. Stephanie had kind of hoped they’d make love again that morning, but he appeared concerned and insistent they speed up their arrival in Haventown. His final destination, as well as hers.

  After last night’s heartfelt confession from him, about wanting her to be a more permanent part of his life, she couldn’t help a knotted tangle of disappointment. Why was he in such a hurry to get to the place she planned to depart as soon as they arrived? From there, she’d take a transport bus to the airport four hours away. She didn’t understand his rush. Unless he hadn’t fully meant what he’d said after their passionate love-making.

  Dripping sweat by ten o’clock, she groused her discontent, which had more to do with their unresolved situation than the weather. She wasn’t usually a complainer, but she needed a shower desperately. And a pause from their breakneck pace. And a refill of their water canteens.

  Instead of slowing down, Mason told her a story of a Native American man he’d known, in Haventown where he’d grown up, where his brother was now the sheriff. Mason himself had complained one day about the excessive heat. The old man, sweat rolling along the craggy lines of his face, had said, “The sun desires to be close to us today. We are blessed by its life-giving spirit.”

  In the story, the old man had turned the heat from a burden into a blessing, with two sage sentences.

  She felt humbled.

  After almost a week away from technology, air conditioning, and the comforts of her everyday life, she admitted she’d grown used to—even appreciated—this simple, natural environment. It accepted her completely, as she came, no frills or makeup or career accomplishments. It accepted her as easily and naturally as Mason did.

  She’d arrived broken-hearted. And this trail, along with Mason, had healed her.

  There was something mystical, ancient, about the forest. She loved the mystique, though, and would miss it dearly when she left. The more she considered the possibility of a long-distance relationship with him, the more she liked the idea.

  A week ago Mason’s story about accepting the stunning heat might have annoyed her. Today, she took a deep breath and found respect for the elements, the gift of beauty surrounding her, able to change her perspective of the sun as her enemy to the sun as a life-giving sustainer. She never heard the trees or grass or animals complain. No worse for wear, they dealt with it and went on with their solar-provided existence. So could she.

  These woods, the hills and glades, called to the deepest parts of her, filling an emptiness she’d never realized existed—until she set foot on the trail. She’d changed. She just wasn’t sure how much, or if she’d be able to return here as often as she wanted to, should she and Mason continue to nurture their bond.

  Two hours later, he guided her off the trail to a natural spring. “I figured we could use a refill.”

  She smiled. “It’s like you read my thoughts.”

  “I think I know you well enough to anticipate your needs.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she glanced away. What man had ever even come close to anticipating her needs? “Mason, I’m so glad I met you.”

  He tossed her a grin. “You and me, both.”

  While she watched him collect spring water at its pure source, for a split second she wondered if she
could give up everything she’d ever known for the one man who knew her better than anyone.

  After they’d each taken a thorough drink, he attached the cap of his bottled water and sent her a wink. “All good?”

  “Great.”

  He was so attentive, so nurturing. She’d never met a truly nurturing man aside from Mr. Hendricks.

  “Mason.”

  He tucked her canteen into her pack, then hooked his two canteens to his. “Yeah, baby?”

  “I was wrong last night.”

  A startled look stamped his features. “What? Why? Do you regret being with me?”

  She approached him, took his face in her hands, and drew his mouth down to hers. Their slow, sensual kiss lasted minutes. “No, not at all,” she said.

  He expressed intense relief. “Okay, good.”

  “You’re just amazing to me. Do you really want to try being together? Long distance?”

  “Yes, or I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

  This all seemed so natural to him. So easy. Like he knew they were meant for each other, but she still had reservations.

  I mean, how can I believe three days can equal a lifetime of happiness?

  “I don’t know the answer to that, baby. All I know is, I want you. I want to be with you. Always.”

  Her mouth went dry. She swallowed. “Mason, I didn’t say that out loud.”

  “You didn’t?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

  He can read my mind? “Um, why can you read my mind?”

  Beyond his serene expression, she witnessed a deliberate gleam in his eyes. “Baby, I can’t read minds.”

  She didn’t buy it. Something strange had happened just now. “You heard my thoughts. And you answered them.”

  Although he shrugged, he sent her a soul-piercing stare. “So what if I did?”

  Eyes wide, she stared at him. “There’s something about you that’s…not of this world.”

  Instead of answering her, he made himself busy reorganizing the contents of his pack.

  “What is it? You have something special, don’t you?” she demanded, enthralled with the idea that he held some kind of mystical skills—maybe Native American magic powers?—the kind that could create wine out of water, like the stuff she drank yesterday he’d called “joy juice.” He’d known something she hadn’t.