Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3)
Page 8
“Good,” I say, pushing him back from me again. “Now, leave.”
Tony and his friends slowly back away, never taking their eyes off of us. They finally turn and leave the bar and once outside, begin hurling insults and threats again. Because they need to show how not only how mature they are, but how tough they are as well.
Yeah, this isn't gonna win me any points with the Clan. But, whatever.
“I think it's time you both leave too.”
I turn and find Josie standing behind us, her jaw set, anger upon her face.
“Josie, I –”
“Please, leave, Jackson,” she says. “You know my rules about fighting in the bar.”
“We weren't fighting,” I argue. “You saw what happened. They –”
“I mean it,” Josie says, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You need to go. Now.”
I feel Neesa's hand on my arm, giving me a gentle squeeze. I look at her and she gives me a gentle smile and a nod.
“It's okay, we should go,” she says and then turns to Josie. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble.”
Without a word, Josie turns and walks away, but I can see her wiping the tears from her face. I know her kicking us out has nothing to do with what just happened – and everything to do with the fact that I'm here with Neesa.
We grab our things and walk out into the cool night air. I'm half-expecting to find Tony and his friends out there waiting for us, but the parking lot out front is empty. A breeze blows by us and Neesa shivers.
“I'm sorry for what happened in there,” she says. “About upsetting your girlfriend and everything.”
I chuckle. “Not my girlfriend. And what happened in there isn't your fault.”
As we stand there, a thought occurs to me. One I should have had earlier, but only now popped into my head.
“Where are you going to stay tonight?” I ask. “I assume you're not going home.”
She snorts. “Yeah, I won't be going to back to Umak's house anytime soon,” she says. “I dunno. I figured I'd shift and just go sleep in the forest.”
“It's cold out here.”
She shrugs. “My fur keeps me warm enough,” she says. “Besides, it's not like I haven't done it before.”
“No, I won't let you do that,” I say. “You're going to get a good night's sleep in a warm bed. I've got spare rooms at my place. You'll stay there.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I raise my hand to cut her off.
“With those things you saw still running around out there, I'm not going to put you at risk,” I say. “I need your help with this.”
Neesa looks like she's going to argue again, but ultimately closes her mouth and nods. We cross the parking lot to my car and I hold the door while she slips inside. I turn to walk back around to the driver's side and see Josie silhouetted in the doorway of the bar – watching us.
I can't see her face for the shadows, but I really don't need to. I know she's not happy and I hate that she's hurt. But it's not my fault. I never promised her anything and in fact, did everything I could to discourage her crush. Although I have no reason to feel bad, I still do though.
I keep watching as she slowly turns around, walking back inside, and lets the door swing shut behind her, leaving me there looking after her.
Chapter Eleven
Neesa
I'm not going to lie – the idea of bunking down in the woods isn't my ideal way to spend the evening. Yeah, my fur cuts most of the chill, but I'm still usually pretty cold. And sleeping on rocks, twigs, and other debris isn't exactly comfortable.
But then, staying in Jackson's house isn't exactly ideal either. But one look at the bed in his guest room makes me realize that this is indeed the right decision. It's big, fluffy, soft, and has a comforter that just screams warm. This is better than the bed I have back at Umak's.
“Brought you some towels,” Jackson says as he knocks on the open door. “Just in case you want to shower.”
“Great,” I say. “Thank you.”
I stand up and take the towels from him and set them on the dresser next to the door. We stand there staring at each other, an awkward silence descending upon us.
He clears his throat. “Care for a nightcap?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
We head back downstairs and cross through the living room to the kitchen. I take a seat at the table as Jackson takes a whistling tea kettle off of the stove. He pours water into a couple of large mugs and the kitchen is instantly filled the delicious aroma of a dark chocolate.
“Hot cocoa?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I enjoy it on cold nights.”
Reaching into a cupboard overhead, he pulls down a bottle of Irish Cream and adds a generous dollop.”
“I enjoy it even more with a little kick to it.”
I smile and nod. “As do I.”
He comes to the table and sets a mug down in front of me. I inhale the aroma of the Irish Cream blended with the chocolate and smile.
“Smells wonderful,” I say.
A book sits on the table beside me – A Tree Grows in Brooklyn – one that I've read more times than I can count.
“I never took you for the type to read this,” I say, tapping the book.
“I would imagine you didn't take me for the type who reads at all.”
My grin is wry. “Busted,” I say and clear my throat. “Sorry.”
I have to admit, Jackson isn't anything like the person I thought he was. Apparently, all of my initial impressions of the man have been incredibly wrong. I've always imagined him to be just a big, brooding hulk of a man. A guy who enjoys fighting, killing, and does whatever his Chief tells him to do without question or hesitation.
But his house is filled with books. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. And I can tell by the way they're worn and broken in that they're not just there for show. He sits and reads. Apparently, a lot. And after perusing his library, I'm thoroughly impressed with his taste in literature.
Which again, blows the image of him I've had right out of the water. Not only is he more intelligent, well spoken, and apparently, well-read, than I ever imagined, he's been nothing but kind and gentle with me. And the thing that's been blowing my mind is how protective of me he's been – first with Umak and tonight at the bar.
I'm having to re-evaluate everything I think I know about this man – as well as sort through the maelstrom of thoughts and feelings he's inspired in me. I've always found him attractive. He's a very handsome man, how could I not?
He's big, standing over six-feet tall, lean, well muscled, his face and body looking like they were carved from stone. But he's not the weightlifting meathead type. Jackson is athletic. Fit. His hair is short and dark, and his eyes are brown and soulful.
Having spent some time with him now, I can see that there's something inside of him – some pain or something – he keeps locked away. There's a profound sadness that hangs over him like a shroud, but I don't know what's causing it. To me, he just feels – unsettled. Unhappy. Like he's waiting for something. But what can he be waiting for?
And now that I've spent some time with him, I'm realizing that he stirs powerful feelings deep within me. Feelings I never really considered before. Feelings I'm not entirely sure what to do with. He's a handsome man, but the feelings I'm having are based on more than just that. My attraction isn't simply physical. There's something about him that is engaging me on a far deeper level.
But knowing that I'm not his type – as he made so plainly clear – I'm not sure what to do with any of those thoughts and feelings. I'm usually good at compartmentalizing and stuffing things down deep, locking them away, and never thinking of them again. But for some reason, when I look at Jackson – when I hear his voice – that box bursts open again and all of those thoughts and feelings come rushing back to the surface.
“So, if you didn't think I could read,” Jackson says, “what did you think I did with my spare time?”
I s
hrug. “I don't know,” I say. “Drink. Raise hell. Honestly, I thought you were like those guys in the bar tonight more than anything. Not that I spent a lot of time thinking about what you did in your free time.”
He laughs softly. “No, of course not,” he says. “And back in the day, when I was a little younger, maybe I was a little more like them. But then I was made Moq'apo, and things changed. I changed, I guess. And honestly, I kind of feel a little anachronistic these days.”
I laugh and nod. “Funny you say that,” I say. “I feel like that more often than I care to admit. I just don't really feel like I fit in with the Packs anymore.”
Jackson nods as if he understands. “Exactly,” he says. “I just feel like I can't – or won't – adapt to this new world order. Don't get me wrong. I think that Asher, Mariana, and Luca are doing a great job with the Clans. I think they're making a lot of changes – for the better. But more and more, I feel out of place. And I feel like an outsider – even in my own Clan.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that impression at the bar earlier.”
His smile is rueful and the look in his eyes is sad. “I shouldn't be admitting this to you,” he says. “But I'm giving a lot of thought to renouncing my vows to my Clan and going Rogue.”
“Rogue?” I ask. “But doesn't that cut you off from the Clans completely?”
He nods. “Yeah, that would kind of be the point though,” he says. “Don't get me wrong, there are good people among the Clans. People I care about a lot – and who I know care about me. But the bottom line is, I don't feel like I fit in with them anymore anyway.”
I sit back in my seat and take a drink, looking at him from over the rim of the mug the whole time. He looks – sad. Though he tries to hide it, I can see the pain in his eyes.
I don't know why but the idea that he'd walk away from his Clan – from people who care about him – makes me sad for him. Knowing that he'd be walking the world – all alone – fills me with sadness for him. I don't know him well at all, but I know how to read people. And I can tell that Jackson is a good man with a good heart. I was so caught up in my loyalty to my pack and to being a wolf, that I just never let myself see it before.
“I think we have more in common than I ever imagined before,” I say.
“How so?”
“In a lot of ways, I'm where you're at,” I say. “I've thought about leaving Umak – leaving my pack – for a long time. Most days, I just don't feel like I belong anymore.”
“I'm sorry, Neesa,” he says. “I know how painful it is.”
I sigh. “It is what it is, I suppose,” I say. “I have to tell you though, never in a million years, did I think I'd end up sitting at your kitchen table drinking hot chocolate.”
He laughs and his smile transforms his face. That smile seems to light up the room and makes his eyes sparkle. And it makes him a million times more attractive.
“That's the first time I've ever seen you really smile,” I say. “You should do that more often.”
He looks away and if didn't know better, I'd say that he's blushing. It's adorable and makes me want to laugh. But the last thing I want to do is embarrass him, so I bite it back.
“It's late,” he says. “We should probably get some sleep. We've got to get an early start tomorrow.”
I look at my watch and nod. “Yeah, probably so.”
We stand up and he takes our mugs to the sink and I watch as he rinses them out. He turns around to find me standing there and looks at me curiously.
“You okay?” he asks. “Did you need something?”
“No, I – I'm fine.”
I honestly don't know what's come over me, but I'm overwhelmed by a wave of complex, confusing, and yet entirely powerful emotion. Without giving myself time to think about it, I close the distance between us and throw my arms around his neck and press my lips to his.
At first, I can tell that he's shocked. Uncertain. But as I force my tongue into his mouth and grind my body against his, his reluctance fades. Soon enough, his hands are around my waist and our kiss grows in intensity and passion. I feel his hard cock pressing against me as our tongues swirl and dance together, and feel the fires deep inside of me igniting.
So much for getting some sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Jackson
I'm completely taken by surprise when Neesa kisses me. I'm not sure what to think at first – but it doesn't take me long to warm up to it. I've always thought that Neesa is a beautiful woman. But having gotten to spend some time with her, I see that she's so much more than just physical beauty. She has a depth to her that really resonates with me. That draws me in and compels me.
It seems so strange to say, given how little we actually know about each other, but there is something about her – something that makes it feel like a missing puzzle piece inside of me is snapping into place.
But now is not the time to dwell on those things – not when our tongues are swirling together, my hands are on her ass, and she's grinding herself against my painfully hard cock. I pull back for a moment to catch my breath and look into her eyes – the fire inside of me growing more intense by the moment when I see the look of pure hunger and desire on her face. She bites her bottom lip, her eyes full of nothing but a raw and animalistic needs.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods quickly and leans forward again, pressing our mouths together. I run my hands through her hair, giving it a firm pull as we kiss. I plant a line of soft kisses down her neck as I squeeze her firm ass. Neesa responds with a soft moan and grinds herself into me a little harder.
It's been so long since I've been with somebody that I've forgotten how good it feels. And as Neesa rubs my stiff cock through my pants, the rush of sensations coursing through me are intense and powerful. I throw my head back and moan as she slips her hand into my pants and squeezes me tight.
She gives me a flirty little smile and raises her arms, so I slip her out of her shirt. Tossing it to the side, I quickly unhook her bra and throw it to the ground with her shirt. Her breasts are full and as I take them in my hands, I run my thumb over her hard nipples. Leaning down, I take one into my mouth as I knead her breast with my other hand. I lick and suck on her nipple and draw a gasp from her when I give it a gentle bite.
Her hands find their way to my belt and quickly undo it. She unzips my pants and pushes them down, wrapping her hand around my thick shaft as I continue to work on her breasts. A strong shudder runs through me when Neesa begins to stroke my cock, squeezing and tightening her hand as she jerks me off. The heat inside of me is growing by the second and a flood of desire rushes through me.
“I need you,” I moan.
“Then take me.”
I unbutton her pants and push them down quickly. Neesa steps out of her pants and panties at the same time and kicks them to the side. Picking her up, I set her down on the counter. I kiss her hard, our tongues swirling together in a chaotic dance of desire. Parting her thighs, I lock eyes with her as I sink down to my knees. Leaning forward, I bury my face in her most intimate parts, running the tip of my tongue around her swollen lips.
She gasps and moans as I slip my tongue inside of her. I lick her warm, wet center, relishing the taste of her. As I start to suck on her clit, Neesa's hands grip my hair and she cries out, grinding herself hard against my mouth. I slide two fingers inside of her as I suck on her clit, moving them in and out harder and faster. Neesa is moaning and calling my name as I work on her tight little opening with my mouth.
“Jesus, Jackson,” she gasps, her breathing growing ragged. “Yes, baby. Yes.”
I drive my fingers into her harder and faster, picking up the pace with my tongue as I continue to lick and suck on her clit. Neesa's moans are growing more frantic and she pulls my hair harder as her body tenses.
“Oh my, God, I'm going to come,” she moans.
Neesa's body stiffens beneath me and then she cries out as her orgasm comes crashing down over her. Shuddering and
moaning, Neesa pushes my head down harder into her, grinding herself against my mouth and fingers. Her body spasms hard as she calls my name.
Slowly, she loosens her grip on my hair and her body begins to relax as her orgasm subsides. She looks down at me, a smile upon her lips, the look of need on her face even more defined.
“I need you inside of me, Jackson,” she purrs. “I need to feel you now.”
I stand up and she grabs my cock, tightening her hand around the shaft and strokes me good and hard. I close my eyes and lean my head back, reveling in the sensations. Neesa wraps her legs around my waist and draws me forward, guiding my stiff prick to her tight, wet little opening. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck and gives me a salacious little smile.
“Fuck me, Jackson,” she says.
I kiss her hard, sliding my tongue into her mouth. At the same time, I thrust my hips forward, slamming my hard cock deep into her. She throws her head back and moans when I'm fully sheathed inside of her, her fingernails digging into my shoulder blades.
We take a moment to let our bodies adjust to one another, getting used to the feeling of me being so deep inside of her. Slowly, I start to move my hips, sliding my cock into her in a steady rhythm. Our moans blend together and echo around the kitchen.
I'd forgotten how good it feels to be inside of somebody. Didn't realize how much I'd missed it. I've denied myself for so long that it's almost like feeling it for the first time again. Neesa locks her eyes onto mine and arches her back, trying to take me even deeper into her.
“Harder, Jackson,” she commands.
I plunge my cock into her harder and faster, drawing moans and gasps from her. As I drive myself into her again and again, I feel the pressure building up low within me. My balls are growing tighter and I know I'm not going to last much longer – she just feels too damn good.
“Neesa, I – I –”
“It's okay,” she says, holding my gaze. “Don't hold back, Jackson.”
I grit my teeth and try to slow myself down. I want to hold back. Want to delay the inevitable for as long as I can. I pull her to me, embrace her tightly, slowing my rhythm, but continue to drive myself deep into her. Neesa holds on to me tight, squeezing her legs around my waist and kisses my neck. Her body is tensing and her breathing is growing shallow again.