Shifters In My Sheets 2

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Shifters In My Sheets 2 Page 2

by Amanda Jones


  Who the hell is Mr. Greylock?

  Mike marched me over to a metal door that slid open after he pushed a button in the wall. He pulled me inside and the door slid shut. He jabbed his finger at another button on the wall, and then leaned back and closed his eyes as the room seemed to move. I had seen pictures in books of some basic human inventions, but nothing like this. I squeezed Mike’s hand harder out of reflex and he opened his eyes and tugged me closer so my side bumped into his hard chest.

  “It’s an elevator. It takes us up so we don’t have to walk twenty flights of stairs,” he said, his voice gruffer than before. I stared up at him, the left side of my body on fire where it was touching his skin, and wondered how I would be able to keep myself from getting hurt again. I was almost lost in his aqua-blue eyes when I heard a dinging sound and the door opened again. He sighed and pulled me out and down a hallway with doors on each side. We stopped at a door with a sign that read ‘20A’ on it. He swiped something into the door and it opened. His hand went to the small of my back, careful not to touch my injuries, and softly pushed me inside.

  Chapter Three: Mike:

  Mila was here, in my apartment. My brain hadn’t quite caught up to the moment but my body surely had. I watched her walk toward the windows and look out at the sunrise, while my eyes soaked her in. I felt like a letch but I couldn’t stop myself from noticing how stunning she was, and how much of a woman she had grown to be. When Jonathan and I had left the pack ten years ago she had been on the edge of womanhood, and even then I had thought about her.

  She and I had been connected through that inexplicable pull between two people. Back then I had known that she loved me, and it tore me apart to leave her. I had loved her too, but I’d never said the words. I had been twenty when she was sixteen; in the panther world that was fine but in the human world it wasn’t. We had never kissed or even hugged, but the feelings between us had been palpable. Everyone in the pack knew that Mila and I would be mates someday, even though it wasn’t discussed.

  I had spent the last ten years trying to forget her and failing miserably. She was smart, and strong, and fiercely independent, and she pulled me out of my silences unlike anyone else. I dreamed about her at night, waking up in a sweat with my dick throbbing for release. But I had never dreamed that she would look like this – full, bouncing breasts pushing against the front of my shirt, strong legs that looked like they could grip my hips tightly and never let go no matter how demanding I became – shit, my cock was hard and I didn’t want to scare her any more than she was already. I forcibly stopped my thoughts and had almost accomplished my goal when she turned around.

  She’s so fucking beautiful.

  Her skin was golden in the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Her hair was an inky black, healthy and shiny, flowing down her back like a thick waterfall. Her eyes were caramel brown, wide set and always twinkling, although now no twinkle was visible. Her cheeks were pink and her lips were naturally a dark rose color. I remember staring at them years ago and wanting to feel them under mine. None of those feelings compared to how I felt right now. She was vibrant, and gorgeous, and I’d thought I would never see her again. But she was here and I still loved her. In fact, after ten years of being alone, I loved her more than I had back then because I appreciated her more. She was unique and special and as I watched her watching me, I decided I was never letting her go again.

  “Why did that guy call you Mr. Greylock?” she asked me, pulling me out of our staring contest.

  “Well, when Jonathan and I came to Boston after we left the pack, we realized pretty quickly that we needed last names if we were going to be human all the time. I chose ‘Greylock’ after Mt. Greylock. It seemed appropriate.”

  “And Jonathan?” She walked a few steps and collapsed in one of my cushy chairs surrounding the fireplace.

  “He chose ‘King’. Partly because he was twenty and immature, and partly because he…well, he…had killed your father,” I finished quietly, not really wanting to discuss what had happened the day that Jonathan and I had been forced to leave the pack.

  “What did you just say?” she whispered, her eyes wide as she leaned forward in her chair. I didn’t respond because I had no idea what could make her react that way.

  “Michael,” she said, and her soft voice saying my name that way made me ache, “my father isn’t dead.” The ache swiftly left my body.

  “What do you mean, your father isn’t dead?” I said as I walked up to her chair, towering over her.

  “He didn’t die when you and Jonathan fought him. He survived.” Her eyes were huge as her face drained of color. I sat down on the coffee table in front of her.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, my heart thumping as I realized that if her father was alive, he would never stop until he found her. “I helped Jonathan kill Erik,” I added.

  “He didn’t die,” she insisted and after a minute of silence as my brain whirled in every possible direction, I grabbed her hand again and pulled her up.

  “We’re going to see Jonathan,” I said as we left the apartment and walked quickly to the elevator. When it opened I buzzed the penthouse twice, waited for the answering buzz, and watched the doors close as I pushed in the code. Mila stood silently beside me, her anxiety high as she ran her fingers through her hair and pulled my shirt down further on her thighs. The door opened and we walked inside while I looked around for Jonathan.

  “He’s in the shower,” Beth said from the kitchen, and I looked over to see her pouring coffee, still dressed in her pajamas.

  “I’m sorry to come so early, Beth.”

  “It’s fine, Mike. You’re always welcome, you know that. And so are your friends,” she added with a smile, even though she knew that I had no friends besides her and Jonathan. I could see her mind trying to figure out the puzzle as she glanced at my hand grasping Mila’s tightly.

  “I’m Beth,” she said as she came around the kitchen island and walked toward us. Mila didn’t back up but I could tell she wanted to.

  “It’s okay,” I said to her. “This is Jonathan’s wife, Beth. She’s my friend.” Beth looked up at me with a beaming smile lighting up her beautiful face, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Mila watching. I blushed because I hated to be the center of attention. Beth knew that so she laughed softly.

  “Beth, this is Mila. She’s from the pack,” I said and Beth’s smile faded. Mila stiffened up even more as Beth seemed to size her up. I knew that Beth was just being protective of Jonathan and I couldn’t blame her for being worried.

  “She escaped last night,” I added, and Beth glanced at me quickly, suspicion quickly changing to concern on her face.

  “Oh! Are you all right?” Beth asked, advancing on Mila suddenly.

  “No!” Mila said loudly as she took a step back and held up her hand between them. Beth stopped and looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

  “What’s going on?” Jonathan’s voice rolled over us as he walked into the room. Tension was thick as he put his arm around Beth, and then looked closely at my hand, his eyes traveling quickly up my arm to Mila’s face.

  “Mila?” he asked, astonishment clear in his voice. She yanked her hand out of my grasp and backed up a few steps.

  “Yes. Hello, Jonathan,” she replied, lifting her chin and crossing her arms under her breasts. Jonathan glanced quickly at me as he pulled Beth closer.

  “I found her last night, injured and running away from…the pack. She was freezing and had nowhere to go and no one to help her. So I brought her back here,” I said, as if it was a simple thing. Jonathan narrowed his eyes as he continued to swing his gaze between Mila and me.

  “Let’s sit down,” I added, trying to keep everyone calm before I revealed the real reason we were here just after sunrise. After a moment’s hesitation, Jonathan pulled Beth toward the couch and sat down. I grabbed Mila by the elbow and none-too-gently shoved her into one of the matching chairs.

  “Mila’s father is still al
ive,” I said directly to Jonathan after I had sat down as well. His face went pale and then bright red and he jumped up from the couch.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Mike?” He was agitated, pacing back and forth in front of us and running his fingers through his hair repeatedly.

  “Mila says that we didn’t kill him like we thought we did all those years ago. Erik didn’t die.” I watched him trying to process this information and knew somewhat of how he was feeling. But Erik, Mila’s father, had destroyed Jonathan’s entire family.

  “He killed my parents and my sister! Just because he wanted to be alpha! He would have killed me, too if not for Mike,” he yelled at Mila, standing over her in his anger.

  “It’s not her fault,” I said softly, standing up and placing my hand in the middle of Jonathan’s chest. I didn’t push him back but we both knew that if I did our friendship, our brotherly-union, would be tested. I had never seen Jonathan lose his temper, not once in all the years I’d known him, so I was willing to make allowances for him. But I wouldn’t let him scare Mila.

  “Love, please come here and sit down,” Beth said in her clear voice, and Jonathan stepped back immediately, breathing deeply and then sitting down on the couch.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, regret in his voice. Mila sat pushed back in her chair, her knees up defensively.

  “It’s fine,” I said to both Jonathan and Mila, hoping to further soothe the situation. Mila unwound a bit, while Jonathan just sat staring at the floor as Beth rubbed her hand between his shoulder blades.

  “How did this happen?” Jonathan asked, looking up at Mila finally. Mila looked terrified and pissed off all at once, and I could feel her internal struggle of which emotion would win out.

  “I remember being so scared that day,” Mila began so softly I could barely hear her. She stared blankly at the wall across the room as she sat up and put her feet on the floor. “My father had just killed Jonathan’s entire family, and then he went after Jonathan, too. I pleaded with him to stop. I begged him not to hurt you, Jonathan. I knew he was...” she shuddered and closed her eyes. No one moved or made a sound as we waited for her to continue speaking. “Nobody needed to tell me how bad he was.” I felt my panther pushing its way to the surface. “He got to Jonathan, and he had almost killed him when suddenly Mike was there. My heart physically ached when I saw Mike charge my father because I knew right then there were only two possible endings – you were dead or you had to leave the pack. Either way, I was losing you.” Her voice was dull by that point and I glanced at Jonathan and Beth, realizing that Mila was revealing intimate thoughts about her past feelings for me. “Mike hurt my father badly, and the entire pack thought he was dead. My brother Luca even announced his death. You two took off into the woods, never to be seen again, and I was broken,” she whispered as one tear fell from her eye, looking like she was in a trance. “The rest of that day all I felt was the unbearable pain of losing someone you love so deeply, that you feel like you can’t possibly take a deep breath again, that the color was leached from your world and all you’ll ever be able to see again is black and white. My worst nightmare had become real.”

  I watched her closely, my heart squeezing as she described her pain. Regret for my choice and longing for Mila flowed over me. Jonathan and Beth were staring at her too, Beth’s face streaked in tears.

  “I’m sorry about what I did to Erik,” I said softly, still not believing the choice that fate had placed upon me so many years ago – allow my best friend, my brother, to be killed, or kill my love’s father. Mila had loved me more than I thought possible and it all changed that day. My heart ached in my chest as I thought of what could have been, the kind of life Mila and I would have had together if that day had never happened. But it did, and she was different now, suspicious and untrusting. She wasn’t the girl I used to know.

  “I went right to my home and cried all day,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I never left and I never fell asleep. The next morning I stumbled outside and everyone in the pack was talking about how my father hadn’t died, that he was still alive. That it was a miracle. When he was fully recovered he made it…clear to me that I was never going to leave the pack and that I would pay for loving Mike.”

  Her voice broke then and Jonathan and I exchanged glances, communicating so much without words.

  “Do you think Erik recognized you?” he asked me.

  “I have no way of knowing. But it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “So, what do you think we should do?”

  “Is Mila in danger right now? At this moment?” Beth interrupted us. Neither of us responded.

  “Okay then. What you’re going to do right now Mike is take Mila to your apartment and clean up her injuries. Set up a bath for her. Feed her, allow her to rest. Come back tonight. I’ll cook us all a meal and you can discuss it then,” she said with finality while we all looked at her, even Mila.

  I stood up and put my hand out to Mila. She ignored it and pushed herself up without my assistance. She gave Beth a slight smile and I kissed Beth on the cheek before we walked over to the elevator. As Mila and I entered and I turned around, I could see Jonathan and Beth standing next to the couch, his hands framing her face as he kissed her hungrily. I averted my gaze until the doors closed. Mila stood silently next to me, and I was so lost in my thoughts of what she had revealed about her love for me that I was surprised when she spoke with amusement in her voice.

  “So I take it Jonathan isn’t the alpha in that pack.”

  Chapter Four: Mila:

  I never thought I’d see Mike again and here I was in his condo sitting on the most comfortable bed I’d ever felt in my life while he roamed around in the bathroom muttering to himself. He had told me to sit on the bed and wait, so I did but only out of sheer exhaustion. I needed sleep so I could have a clear head and make some plans.

  “Let’s get your back cleaned up,” Mike said as he came into the bedroom, his hands laden down with first aid supplies. I was still wearing only his shirt and now that the immediate danger had passed and we were alone again, I dreaded being naked in front of him. I was afraid my body would betray me when my mind wanted something else.

  “Can you turn around on the bed and…pull down your shirt?” Mike asked quietly after he’d dumped everything beside me. I looked up at him and our eyes caught and held, as they had so many times years ago, and the memory of the last time he had patched me up came flooding back.

  “It hurts, Mike!”

  “That’s what happens when you belly flop onto a bed of rocks that used to be a river.”

  “Shut up,” I laughed in spite of myself. “There was still water in there!”

  “Yeah, just not where you jumped,” he said as he knelt down in front of me, surveying the damage to my knees and hands. I was only sixteen but I loved Mike so fiercely that I thought about him every second of every day, and dreamed about him at night. My feelings had crept up on me. I’d known Mike my whole life as the quiet, dependable member of the pack. Then somehow, someway we started talking, and soon he was the only person I ever wanted to be around. He had never kissed me or even touched me really, so the fact that he was gently examining my knees with his fingers on the back of my calves was making the blood surge throughout my body.

  “This should help,” he said as he scooped water from the river into his hands and trickled it down onto my knees, washing away the dirt and pebbles.

  “Better. Let me see your hands.” When I held my hands out they were trembling and his eyes lifted to mine. His eyes were much darker than normal, bordering on navy blue as he took my hands gently in his. I hitched in a breath at the contact and leaned down to him, my body going for a kiss without my brain’s consent.

  “Mila,” he whispered and I pulled back. His voice held a note of warning behind the softness. Shame and embarrassment hit me like a ton of bricks, and I tried to pull my hands away.

  “No,” he insisted as he refused to r
elease my hands. I looked into his eyes again and this time there was desire and confusion in them. He swept his fingers gently against the backs of my hands and a tingling sensation I had never felt before ran up my arms.

  “You’re too young,” he whispered as he was now the one that leaned toward me.

  “You okay, Mila?” I startled out of my daydream to see Mike standing in front of me, still shirtless from the night before. I remembered that Mike hadn’t kissed me that day down by the river because my father had yelled for me, ruining the moment. And we’d never had another one, because the next day my father had killed Jonathan’s family and Mike had left the pack.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I managed to say as I continued to stare at Mike’s muscles, rippling as he moved around. I wanted him, but he could never know. He had left me alone with my horrible father for ten excruciating years, and I could never forgive him for that. Also, I had no intention of living life as a panther any longer and it appeared that Mike shifted on a regular basis. We simply weren’t the same anymore.

  “Do you want to turn around?” he reminded me, a small smile on his face, and I quickly swung around to sit with my back toward him. He sat down behind me, close enough that I could feel his body heat. I tried to contain the shiver that ran through me but I’m afraid he saw it anyway.

  “Can you lower your shirt?” he asked softly, almost in a whisper, making the moment even more intimate than it already felt.

  How am I going to get through this?

  I reached up and started to undo the buttons with trembling fingers. I could hear his heart starting to beat faster and mine started to as well. By the time I got to the last button my senses were on overload from the smell of his skin, the sound of his heart, and the feeling of his thigh resting against me as he sat so close behind me. I knew he could smell my sex because I was wet, and knowing that he could smell me made my scent stronger. I was caught in a vicious cycle, like a tornado without the relief of the eye of the storm.

 

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