Caleb's Mate

by Becca Jameson

  “Wow. Aunt Marge was a bit of a hoarder.” Elena reached into her box and pulled out a gorgeous silk scarf. She draped it around her shoulders. “She had style. I wonder why she kept all these scarves in the attic.”

  Caleb came closer and grabbed the ends of the scarf, pulling her forward until she was flattened against his chest. His lips brushed hers before he responded. “Marge wore a scarf every day of her life as far as I know. I never saw her without one. She was kind of elegant. She had hundreds. I bet her bedroom has dozens, and when she got tired of them, she put them up here.”

  Elena ran her hands up and down the length. The material was sensual. The swirl of purples and oranges was gorgeous. And the man still holding the ends was enticing.

  “Hmmm. I could use these when I’m ready to kidnap you and drag you back to my den. Or was it a lair?” he teased.

  She trembled. The thought of Caleb restraining her with silk scarves brought naughty images to her mind. Her breath came out in shallow pants. He was standing so close. He smelled so good. Intoxicating.

  Caleb gave another tug and then lifted his hand to tip her chin back. His expression was intense. “I was kidding. But…” He cupped her face. “Your body responded intensely to my suggestion. I can smell your arousal.”

  She swallowed. Damn her traitorous body. And how had she managed to get tangled up with a man who could freaking smell her mood?

  Admittedly, she realized she could sense his too. He was as aroused as she was at their suggestive conversation. Either she had a keen sense of things too or he brought it out in her.

  Still cupping her face, he reached into the box and pulled out another scarf. He danced the ends up and down her arm, over her shoulder, and across her cheek. With every stroke of the silk, she leaned closer to him, unable to stop herself.

  His voice was gravelly and deep when he spoke. “I didn’t peg you for someone who would enjoy bondage.”

  Her entire body shuddered. “I’m not,” she lied. “I mean I never thought about something like that, nor have I ever done it.”

  “Mmm. Scarves can serve so many purposes.” He draped it over her eyes for a moment, making her suck in a breath. “Blindfold…” He trailed it back down her arm. “I could tie your wrists behind your back or to a headboard…”

  Her heart rate picked up. He needed to stop with the suggestions. Every time he spoke, she grew more aroused. This thing between them was palpable and unnerving.

  He glanced at the box. “There are a lot of them. I bet you would look fucking hot wearing nothing but silk scarves, crisscrossing over your breasts and between your legs…” His voice trailed off again.

  Her panties were soaked. Her nipples stiff. She grabbed his belt loops. “You’re seducing me.”

  “Yep.” He circled her wrist with his fingers, the silk dangling from his hand. “I think we should take a few of these back downstairs with us when we go.” He leaned in and kissed her neck, right behind her ear.

  Elena moaned, tipping her head to one side to give him better access. “Why would we wait to go back downstairs?” she asked in a voice she didn’t recognize.

  He froze for a moment, and then kissed her neck again, a low groan coming from his lips that vibrated through her and pushed her toward a maddening need. No man had ever, in her life, had this effect on her. She had never felt this level of arousal or this all-consuming desire to strip off her clothes and let him have his way with her.

  His tongue trailed down her neck to her shoulder, and then he managed to wrap the scarf around her wrist with the one hand. He pulled her arm behind her back.

  She gasped as her head fell back and her eyes slid shut. It was like a scene from an erotic romance novel. Rays of light crossed the room from two round windows on one side of the attic. The warmth from the sun combined with her rising desire made her feel almost faint.

  She never wanted it to end. This…thing. This need. It was amazing.

  Caleb slid his other hand from her face to the small of her back to grab the scarf and tug her trapped wrist farther behind her. His other hand flattened on her ribcage and smoothed up until he stroked the underside of her breast with his thumb. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  She couldn’t find the words to respond. Her brain was totally mush. And she gasped when his hand continued higher, cupping her breast, molding to it. Her gasp turned to a sharp cry when he flicked his thumb over her nipple.

  “Jesus, baby. That’s so hot. I had no idea it would be like this.”

  She lowered her gaze to blink at him. What did he mean?

  He kissed her lips gently again. His every move was so precise. When he gave her nipple a light pinch through her tank top and bra, she rose onto her toes and arched into him. Her lips fell open. She didn’t care that she was so uninhibited. She wanted more.

  His hand slid away from her breast and down her back next, leaving her bereft of the intimate contact. But when he cupped her butt and squeezed, she whimpered.

  Suddenly, his lips were pressed against hers again. Urgent this time. Demanding. A kiss even deeper than the one they’d shared downstairs. No one could walk in on them here. It would be noisy coming up the stairs. Besides, she couldn’t hear any voices. She assumed Layla and Hunter were still outside.

  And then her thoughts of being caught making out disappeared in a heartbeat because he slid his fingers between her legs from behind and cupped her sex. Expert fingers that stroked directly over her clit and between her folds. Even through the layers of denim and silk panties, she lost her mind.

  Her body was on fire, every inch of her begging for more. For anything he would give her. She gasped and then moaned when he pressed harder, rubbing her pussy through the layers. It didn’t matter that there was a barrier between her sex and his fingers. He knew just where to touch her.

  Her breath caught, and her mind swam. His tongue teased the edge of her lips when she could no longer concentrate on returning his kiss. He hummed into her mouth as he continued to torment her with those amazing fingers.

  She wanted him to undo her jean shorts, tug them down, fuck her. Anything. Everything. Now. Please. God.

  But he didn’t relent. He just kept rubbing her until she realized she was going to come. Standing in the attic, clothes on. A cry escaped her lips, and her eyes fluttered shut again when he picked up the pace, pushing her to the edge and then over.

  Waves of pleasure consumed her, making her legs give out as the spasms continued.

  Caleb held her up though. She couldn’t have fallen with his hand cupping her crotch.

  He slowly eased off the pressure as she came down, and then his mouth was on hers again, devouring her as she found the brain cells to return his kiss. She could feel his erection against her belly, but the two of them were pressed too closely together for her to reach for it. Besides, one hand was trapped in the soft material of the scarf at her back. The other was gripping his belt loop.

  She was gasping for air when he released her lips and slid his hand back to her ribcage. His mouth trailed back to her ear. “Sexiest moment of my life,” he whispered.

  She shivered in his arms, suddenly embarrassed by what she’d just done. Heat raced up her cheeks as she tipped her head down to set her forehead against his chest.

  Caleb released her hand and held her tightly against him, kissing the top of her head. “You’re intoxicating. The attic is filled with the scent of your come. It’s ambrosia.”

  She winced. More heat. More embarrassment.

  He reached for her face and tipped her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. His brows were drawn in concern. “You okay? Did I pressure you?”

  She shook her head. “No. God, no.”

  “But you’re stressed now. I can sense your mood change.” He looked beyond worried.

  She swallowed. “Caleb, I’m embarrassed. You just made me come with my clothes on as if I’m easy. I’m not. I don’t do that.”

  “Come?” His sexy smirk was back.


  She shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean no. I’ve never come like that before.”

  His smirk turned into a smile. “Through your shorts?”

  She scrunched up her face, finding the will to be honest with him. “With a man.”

  His eyes shot wide. He grabbed her shoulders and held her a few inches away, searching her face. “You’ve never had an orgasm with a man?”

  She winced. Did he have to make such a big deal out of it? She glanced away, mortified at the admission.

  Caleb groaned. “Christ. You’re so damn precious. I’m never going to let you go.” He pulled her against his chest again and held her tightly. For a long time he simply rocked her slightly back and forth.

  As her heart rate returned to whatever its new normal was, she noticed it was in sync with his. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed that either. Was that a wolf thing?

  Finally, he leaned back and cupped her face. The scarf had fluttered to the ground, forgotten. “Please tell me you’re okay. I didn’t mean to rush you. You were so damn aroused and pliant, and I could smell your essence. It filled the room and drove me crazy.”

  She gave him a smile. “I’m good. Better than good. Now I know I can orgasm with a man.”

  He winced. “Baby, you can only orgasm with one man. Me. For the love of God, I can’t wait until you internalize that fact. In the meantime, please promise me you won’t let anyone else touch you.”

  She nodded. He was so serious. But who the hell did he think she was going to be making out with? She hadn’t had sex in two years. She doubted she would meet two people in Canyon Springs in the same week and start fucking everything that walked.

  He cleared his throat when she didn’t respond fast enough. “Elena, I don’t care how much time you need to accept that we belong together. I’ll give you all the time you want. Hours. Days. Weeks. Whatever you need. But I’m not going to give up.”

  She bit into her bottom lip and then released it. “I hope not. That was… I don’t actually have words, but I’ve never felt that intensely. Not with anyone. I’m starting to believe you. But you have to understand this is crazy. People don’t smell each other across a room and then fall in love and live happily ever after. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  “It does for shifters.”

  She watched his expression. It was so simple for him. She slid a hand to his chest. “Okay. I believe you. But I’m not a shifter. And I need time. I have a life. An apartment in Chicago. A job. I can’t just drop everything and run off to your den.” She grinned at the last part, hoping he grasped her teasing tone.

  She was also full of shit. Nothing in Chicago was luring her back. She could give it all up in a heartbeat. Hell, this house was so damn interesting that it was growing on her. She wanted to explore every inch. Like a journalist. Maybe there was a story in this old house.

  Caleb kissed her nose. “I’m patient.”

  She giggled. “You are so not patient.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, but I’ll try. Let me spend this time with you. Let me help you dig around in here. Just give me that.”

  She nodded. There was no way she would send him away. A piece of her would be missing if he left. And that alone scared the hell out of her.

  Chapter 11

  June 17, 1976

  * * *

  Dear Mabel,

  * * *

  Mom just called to tell me the news! It’s a girl! And you named her Sara! I love that name so much. I bet she’s adorable. Mom says she will send me pictures as soon as she gets them developed.

  I bet you and George are over the moon. I hear she has the whitest blond hair and brown eyes. I can’t wait to see the pictures. Mom says you’re thinking about taking a year off from teaching. That sounds like a smart idea. They’re only a baby for so long.

  Sending virtual kisses to all ten fingers and ten toes. Give her a big hug from her Aunt Marge.

  * * *

  Love, Marge

  * * *

  “I want to see you shift,” Elena declared, taking Caleb off guard.

  “Of course. Any time.”

  “I mean now. Take me someplace. My skin is crawling. I need to get out of this house. Take me where you like to shift. Show me.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, gauging how wise it might be to let her witness his transformation so soon. He hadn’t even won over her heart yet. Was it wise to risk scaring her into running from him?

  “I’m a big girl. I won’t freak out. Promise.”

  “For someone who thinks it’s odd that I can scent all kinds of things, you do realize you read me pretty damn well, too, don’t you?”

  She shrugged. Damn cute. “Your expressions are pretty obvious sometimes.”

  He hesitated. “You sure you want to watch me shift already?”

  “Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

  “No. Unless I scare the hell out of you causing you to leave town and never come back.”

  She giggled. “I promise not to leave town. Not until the end of the week at least.”

  He lifted a brow. “I thought you were considering two weeks.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Hey, I need those two weeks.” He prayed he wouldn’t need all of fourteen days to convince her she was his. His cock wouldn’t be able to take that.

  “Semantics.”

  “Don’t joke about something like time. You’ll give me a heart attack.”

  She rolled those darn sexy brown eyes again. “Take me to your den. Show me where you sleep for the winter.”

  He laughed harder now. “I’m not a bear, baby. I’m a wolf. And I’ve told you I don’t have a den. I have a regular house like anyone else.”

  “Again, semantics.” She jerked free of him and stumbled backward, bumping into a stack of boxes and causing the top one to tumble to the floor.

  Caleb expected the sound of something fragile to shatter. When it didn’t, he blew out her breath and leaned over to pick up the box where it landed on its side. The lid had popped open, and what looked like stacks of envelopes threatened to fall out.

  Elena bent down next to him and picked up a bundle of letters, a rubber band around the stack. “Wow. Marge really was a hoarder. She even kept old letters.”

  Caleb leaned closer and pointed at the address on the top one. “This one was to your grandmother.”

  Elena gasped, twisting her head to look more closely. “That’s my grandmother’s address,” she murmured before flipping through the stack. They were all to that same address. And written to the side of every one was “return to sender.”

  “My God,” Elena whispered. “Marge wrote to my grandmother, and Mabel returned every single one.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “Very.” Caleb opened the flap on the box farther to reveal dozens of letters. “Let’s take these downstairs with us.”

  Elena nodded. “Do you think I should read them? That seems so…personal.”

  Caleb smiled at her. “You’re a journalist. Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”

  “Yeah, but these letters weren’t written to a stranger. They were written to my own grandmother from the aunt I never met.”

  “We’ll take them with us. If you feel like reading them later, you can.”

  Caleb grabbed Elena’s hand and helped her to standing. Next, he lifted the box of letters and stacked the box of scarves on top before he headed for the stairs.

  Elena giggled. “We’re taking the scarves too, huh?”

  “Yep.” He spun around to climb down them in front of her. When he hit the second floor, he drew in a breath and realized they weren’t alone in the house. “Hunter and Layla must have come inside. They’re downstairs now.” He set the boxes on the floor.

  “How the hell do you know exactly where Hunter and Layla are located? I can’t hear anything.”

  Caleb glanced up at her ass as she came down the ladder behind him. He loved that ass
so much it took every ounce of his control to keep from grabbing it, stripping off her shorts, and feasting his eyes on her naked skin.

  She jumped down the last wrung and turned to face him. “Caleb?”

  “Oh, right. You asked me a question.” He smirked.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I got distracted.” He pulled her front against his and kissed her nose. “I can smell them, baby.”

  “Right.” She drew in a breath. “You know that’s weird, don’t you?”

  “Nope. It’s totally normal for me. And it’s not as if I can tell exactly where they are, but they’re in the house, far enough away that I’d say perhaps the basement.”

  “Can you smell more specific things?” she asked with hesitation and a slight wince.

  “Yes.”

  She cringed now. “Which means Hunter can also smell me.”

  “Yes. Maybe that sounds strange to you, but it’s normal for us. We can scent people’s arousal anywhere we go. Or their fear or even sorrow. Sometimes it can be helpful. Other times it’s annoying.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and then released it. “Is it safe to go find them, or are they having sex?”

  He smiled. “They haven’t had sex. It’s safe.”

  Chapter 12

  December 24, 1988

  * * *

  Dear Mabel,

  * * *

  It’s Christmas Eve. The holidays are always the worst without you, and they are especially hard this year knowing Dad is no longer with us. Even though I saw him infrequently in the last several years, it still hurts.

  I hate when I call Mom his booming voice isn’t in the background asking how I am. He was always so joyful. I bet it’s hard on Mom not having him around, especially during the holidays.

  When I spoke to her earlier, she tried to sound upbeat, but I could hear the sadness in her voice. She said she would be spending Christmas day with you, George, and Sara. I can’t believe she’s twelve already. She’s getting so big. I cherish the pictures Mom sends me.