by Vivi Andrews
Puppy love. That’s what everyone thought it was. It probably didn’t help that he’d had a crush on Mara in school. But this was not a crush. Not anymore. He was not a teenager and this wasn’t a fling.
Even Ava, his baby sister, didn’t treat him like a grownup. By human standards, Michael had been an adult for years. In his lion form, his mane had fully grown in. He wasn’t an adolescent by any definition of the word, but they wouldn’t stop treating him that way.
Just a crush. Nothing serious. Because Michael wasn’t capable of being serious. He was just a kid. A flirt.
“No.”
“Michael?”
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the lion pressing against the inside of his skin, goading him. He’d been ignoring the beast riding him for too long. “I’m not a cub.”
“I never said—”
“I’m sick of being treated like a child. None of you have any faith in me. That’s fine. But you don’t get to decide my life for me.”
He would prove he was man enough. Prove he deserved Mara. Show her she didn’t need to go anywhere else to find a mate. The right mate for her was right here.
The lion inside him roared in agreement.
Michael bolted down the path as fast as his human legs would carry him, ignoring Ava shouting his name. Rational thought had been burned away by instinct and need. He would go to his mate, prove himself to her, convince her to stay. The beast urged him on, hungry for dominance and the scent of her skin.
Mara was his. They both knew it. Tonight, he would hear her admit it.
Chapter Seven
Mara couldn’t sleep. She should have been resting easy, secure in the knowledge that she’d made the right decision, put herself on the right path, but she couldn’t seem to stop thinking of Michael.
She couldn’t stand the way they’d left things. Of course their relationship had to end, but she didn’t want his memory of her last words to him to be whatever she’d said. She couldn’t even remember now what she’d thrown at him before running away. All she could remember was her frustration.
She had to talk to him. They could part as friends, at least. And he was her friend, as unlikely as that seemed. Over the course of the last few months, Michael had become one of her best friends. She would miss the way he could make her crazed with lust, but she would also miss the lazy conversation in the quiet hours before morning. They would talk about everything and nothing. Nonsense conversations that hadn’t really meant anything, until she realized how much they meant to her.
He listened to her. He didn’t always understand her—they came at life from such different angles—but he always listened, with such intense concentration, bringing everything he had to puzzling her out.
Through the stillness of the spring night, she heard footsteps rushing up the path to her house. A fist pounded on her door and Mara hesitated for a moment before going to open it.
She was safe, protected here in her pride. But would she have that same confidence in another pride? Or would she have reason to fear an unexpected knock in the small hours of the morning? Doubt seemed to be wrapping around every aspect of her plan.
She knew who would be waiting on her front porch before she opened the door, but she made herself walk slowly. Michael often surprised her. They’d played out this moment dozens of times before and the thought that this would be the last shortened her breath. Mara wanted to drag out the feeling of nervous anticipation, to live in it forever.
As soon as she turned the knob, the door sprang open. He stalked through, grabbing the door from her hands and flipping it closed behind him. The sheer size of him made her breath catch. He exuded strength, his blue eyes lit from within by the force of his determination.
“We aren’t done yet,” he growled. Michael caught her around the waist, jerking her forward, and she fell eagerly into his arms. His body slammed hard into hers. His mouth was rough and demanding, dragging against hers hungrily. He closed one hand around the back of her neck, kneading her nape with firm pressure as his kiss turned the world inside out. Everything was pressure and heat, every touch a push, as if he could press his will into her until she was nothing but his.
She tugged at his shirt and he ripped it in two, flinging aside the pieces. Mara gasped, more turned on than she cared to admit by the sight of the animal driving him so hard. He was out of control and her only thought was bring me with you. She wanted that wildness. If this was going to be her last time, she wanted everything. She wanted all the insanity in his blood to be rushing through hers too. Only if she got it all would it be the closure she needed.
Their clothing only lasted a matter of seconds, and then they were flesh to flesh. He was so hot his skin seemed to burn right through hers, branding her with his scent, his need. He pivoted, pinning her between his body and the wall. Mara cried out, surprise and arousal blending in the sound. He was so strong. For a man with no control of himself, he was in perfect control of her.
Michael caught her wrists, trapping both of them above her head with one hand. “Admit it,” his dark voice rumbled into her ear before his mouth slid down the side of her neck. His sharp teeth nipped at the sensitive point where her neck met her shoulder and Mara moaned.
“Admit…what?” she panted, arching into his touch as his free hand cupped her breast, plumping it then sharply tweaking her nipple. Sensation shot straight to her pussy. She pressed her thighs together, wet and wanting.
“You need me,” he growled against her skin, licking his way down to her breasts, teasing flicks that made her writhe. He shifted his hand to torment her other breast and sucked the nipple he’d released into his mouth.
“Michael.”
“Admit you love me.” He took her other nipple into his mouth, catching it gently between his teeth. His fingers speared between her folds, sliding to either side of her clit and curling just barely inside her. Mara gave a ragged gasp. She was tuned to his touch, primed to do nothing but feel, all thought long since abandoned. Her only coherency was the need for more. Michael released her breast and lowered himself to his knees. A devilish smile quirked his sexy-as-sin mouth and her heart stuttered. More.
Michael pressed her back against the wall and hooked one of her knees over his shoulder, so she was completely open to him. His hand held her pussy, inches from his face, though his fingers stayed still and he made no move to bring her over the edge. Mara squirmed in his hold, urging him to give her the rhythm she needed.
“Michael,” she murmured breathily, his name both praise and plea.
He leaned forward and flicked his tongue across her clit. Mara gave a short, sharp shriek and her hands locked on his shoulders for balance. He was the only steady point in her world. He lapped against her again and she nearly saw heaven. Need built underneath her, coiling like a spring.
“Admit it, Mara.”
What was she supposed to be admitting? She could barely remember her own name. Right now she’d admit to being the Queen of Sheba, as long as he didn’t stop what he was doing.
“Yes,” she moaned, the only word she knew.
He set his mouth against her, sucking her bud into his mouth. The delicious pressure popped inside her and she came in a rush, sobbing his name. Pleasure rippled through her limbs, making them feel heavy, but Michael wasn’t done. He kept sucking and teasing her clit until she was back on the edge of need before she had time to come down.
He brought her again, a fast, hard, shuddering orgasm that wrenched through her, bone-deep.
In a moment of pleasure-induced clarity, Mara remembered why they were here. Their last time. She wanted it to be good for him. He’d already made it beyond good for her.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, palming his scalp and pulling him back. He put his thumb on her clit, as if marking his place, rubbing it in a slow circle.
“Come up here,” she pleaded. “I need you inside me.”
He shrugged her knee off his shoulder, rising so quickly he had her leg w
rapped around his hip before she had a chance to lower it. He caught her other leg and lifted her, settling both her legs circling his waist. Mara wrapped her arms around his neck, expecting to feel him pressing into her, but Michael surprised her. Always surprising her…
He spun them away from the wall, crossing to the bed and lowering her gently onto her back on the mattress.
Something in his care, his tenderness, brought tears to her eyes, but Mara blinked them away. Michael was wonderful, but even if this was their farewell, she refused to cry. He pressed a kiss onto her lips, so soft and sweet it was more the promise of a kiss than a kiss itself.
She wanted more than promises she would never be able to redeem. Mara sank her hands into his hair again and pulled his head down to hers. She feasted on his lips, drawing on them and rolling her body in a sinuous wave beneath his until they were both back on the sharp edge of need.
He notched himself against her entrance and Mara released his mouth on a moan. “Last time…” she panted. “Make it good.”
An odd flicker passed through Michael’s eyes, but then he pressed inside her in a slow, luscious stroke and Mara couldn’t think to wonder about it. She couldn’t think of anything but the thick, hard feel of him stretching her tight.
He brushed her hair away from her face, framing it with his hands and dropping a kiss on her cheeks, her temples, and beneath the curve of her jaw. His eyes were an intense, burning blue and she couldn’t look away. Holding her gaze, he drew back and thrust slowly back again. Mara angled her hips to take him a fraction deeper. He thrust again and she released a ragged sigh. Before it had been a thundering rollercoaster of lust, but this was a sultry, sensual vise of passion, tightening slowly around them.
Michael took up a measured, punishing rhythm. Each stroke dragged along every nerve inside her. She gripped his buttocks, trying to urge him higher and harder, but Michael kept his brutal, deliberate pace. Her breathing matched his, their groans catching together at the end of each thrust. Mara felt like she was being held at the edge of madness.
Then, finally, he began to increase his tempo bit by bit. His eyes still bore into hers like blue lightning, branding her to her soul. His speed picked up, his thrusts growing rougher, and Mara reveled in the animal behind each fierce lunge. She needed all of him, every bit, even the wildest parts. Only then would she be free of him. She couldn’t find closure without a complete surrender.
She threw herself into this moment with all the passion he poured into his life. He pistoned into her, growling words that might have been her name or something more tender. They raced for completion together, a wild, bruising sprint. Mara flew over the edge first, with Michael a heartbeat behind. She burst into a thousand points of light as his hips jerked between her thighs.
He collapsed against her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. Mara closed her eyes, drinking in that delicious heaviness for the last time, trying to imprint this moment into her memory so she would have it forever.
No wonder people always talked about break-up sex. It was incredible. Transcendent. Mara couldn’t think of better words to describe it, at least not until her brain came back online. She wanted to hold onto this moment, make it last, but exhaustion stole over her. Wrapped securely in her lover’s arms, Mara slept, resting easy.
Chapter Eight
Mara leaned against the schoolhouse window, watching the kids tumbling over one another in the schoolyard. It was a gorgeous day. Probably one of the last perfect days of spring. The sun shone warm and pleasant, gearing up for the ungodly hot summer days to come.
Mara glanced around the schoolroom, looking for distraction. She’d already cleaned up the spilled glue, straightened the desks and put the stray articles of clothing back into the cubbies. Shifter kids went through clothing faster than their human counterparts, their outfits destroyed by the shift. She kept an extra set or two for each of her kids here at the school. Those extra outfits always managed to end up scattered around the room by the end of the day—even when none of the kids had shifted during class.
Normally, the kids would clean up after themselves, but Mara had released them early, wanting to do the task herself. Needing the busywork to occupy her hands. But now the schoolroom was spotless.
She had no more excuses.
Any other day, Mara would be outside with the cubs, watching over them or perhaps even joining in a game. Today, she pressed her forehead against the window, hiding behind that barrier of glass. She was being cowardly and she knew it, but she didn’t want to go outside.
Michael was out there.
He’d still been in her bed when she woke up that morning. Until she’d seen him there, she hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped he would make things easy on her and slink away into the night. When she’d thrown him out, he’d gone without a fight, thank God, but not before he dropped a few choice phrases into her ear.
I want a family too, Mara. One woman for the rest of my life, the kids, the house, all of it. Don’t write me off just yet.
Mara had felt unsettled all day. She couldn’t seem to get those words out of her thoughts. Had she been wrong about him? Her conviction to leave the pride was starting to feel forced and uncomfortably restrictive.
And then he’d shown up as school was letting out.
The kids had run to him, climbing all over him in an eager tumble. The pride was a tight-knit community, but this was more than just a standard reaction to any member of their pride. It was obvious the kids adored him.
He’d make a good dad. The thought crept up on her like a stealth attack. Mara shook it away, forcing herself to think rationally. “Of course the children love him,” she said aloud to herself in the empty classroom, her voice making the words seem more real. “He’s practically a child himself.”
He would play with his kids and they would adore him, but who would discipline them? Who would have to be the bad guy every time? Not Michael. Mara wanted a man who would love their kids, but he had to be a partner and a father, not another child to look after.
Michael was smart, funny and generally amiable. Hard not to like. But he was also impetuous, young, foolish and uncontrolled. Not mate material.
She would not waver just because he’d figured out the children were the way to woo her. Mara was not influenced by sweet gestures and pretty words. She made her decisions with her head. Her heart would just have to fall in line.
Mara stepped away from the front window, taking another lap around the classroom but finding everything in its place.
She needed to remind herself why she was doing this. Why it was so important she not make the wrong decision when it came to picking her mate. Mara crept out the back door of the schoolhouse, grateful the wind was in her favor and Michael wouldn’t immediately know she’d escaped.
She had to see her parents.
At the far edge of the ranch’s residential compound, distant enough to be private but close enough to be sociable, a little house looked out over the southern pasturelands. Roger and Martina Leonard’s house was different from most of the other bungalows on the ranch, in that it had its own kitchen, in addition to the separate bedrooms and sitting room. Most of the buildings in the pride took open-concept to a new level, but the cottage Mara had grown up in was unique.
The door swung open as she started up the path. A cuddly bear of a man with a bushy white beard stepped out onto the porch. “Mara!” he boomed, smiling broadly.
“Hi, Daddy.”
He swung her up in an enthusiastic hug before ushering her inside. “Your mother’s psychic,” he stage whispered as soon as her mom was in earshot. “She knew you were coming.”
Her mother flapped her hands at her father. “It’s Friday, you old goof,” she said affectionately.
Mara realized with a jolt that it was, in fact, Friday. The night of their weekly dinners together. Her father returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner and Mara set about helping her mother set the table, comforted by th
e rote ritual, the normalcy of it.
Her parents had been together for over forty years, but they had gotten a late start on their family, not having Mara until they were both in their thirties. That was part of why they’d both been so consistent in their support of her decision not to rush into marriage with the wrong man. Wait, Mara, you have plenty of time.
But somewhere between thirty and thirty-five, you have plenty of time had turned into lots of people are perfectly happy never having children. They still supported her, but now there was a tinge of pity tainting their support. They wanted so badly for her to be happy. It was hard not to feel like she’d failed them by not finding her Mr. Forever and living happily ever after. If she couldn’t do it, even with their love as her guiding light, what did that say about her? How pathetic was she?
“Chicken marsala, just the way my girls like it.” Her father shouldered open the kitchen door and strode out with a steaming platter that smelled like home.
They all took their seats around the table, the same chairs they’d sat in for every Friday dinner over the last three decades. Mara’s heart gave a pang as she realized she’d be giving up these Fridays if she went in search of her Mr. Forever. And if she found him in another pride, would he want to return to hers with her? Or would Mara only see her parents on the occasional visit, showing off their grandchildren only on scheduled trips?
She’d tried to think all this through, but the little sacrifices kept surprising her. She’d known she would be leaving her pride and all the people she’d grown up with, but the fear of isolation from her family and the keen ache she felt when she thought of leaving her students startled her.
“Delicious as ever, Rog,” her mother said.
Mara realized she’d been eating without tasting a bite. She looked up in time to see the small smile her parents shared, the same smile they’d been sharing for forty years. Her resolve firmed.
“I’m going to visit the pride in Florida next month,” she announced.
