Running Free (Northern Shifters)

by Jorrie Spencer

  His other hand lifted to cup her breast.

  “I’m going to tell you something else,” she continued.

  He nodded.

  “I’ve had my Fallopian tubes removed. I do it on a regular basis since they grow back with shifting. Right now, I can’t get pregnant. And, well, you know us shifters don’t get diseases, right?”

  “Yes. I can read.” He sat up quickly, catching her before she fell back away from him. He kissed her mouth, her throat, her collarbone. Then lifting her, one arm slung beneath her ass, he kissed her breast. She arched as he pulled her nipple into his mouth. He had to keep it gentle, because there was a part of him ready to be wild. Later maybe, when he had more control and knew what the fuck he was doing beyond going on instinct. Though where this instinct came from, he could not say.

  She didn’t think he’d last long this round either, and while she wasn’t going to come, she longed to be with him, to take him inside her.

  Setting her hands on his shoulders, she rose on her knees.

  “Zach,” she said.

  He stared at her like she was the most important thing on Earth. God, that was heady.

  “I want us…” she wasn’t good at dirty talk and now wasn’t the time for it anyway, “…together, okay?” She placed him at her entrance.

  “Yes.” His voice was gravelly.

  “You ready?”

  His eyes went even darker, and he pushed just slightly. She lowered herself, and she could feel so much of him. He was so hard as well as self-lubricated. She didn’t think she’d quite had this sensation before as she welcomed him inside her—as if she could feel every detail, as if she was sensitized to everything about him.

  Time away from sex made her more aware. Or maybe this had to do with Zach himself.

  A sound came from deep within his chest, and she stopped. They stared, their gazes holding each other, and she lowered herself farther so she was filled to the hilt.

  “God,” she breathed.

  He took hold of her face, cherished her with his rough, calloused hands. “Sally.” It was a plea, it was a statement.

  She smiled. “Come inside me.”

  He surged, and she wound arms around his neck as he said, “Hold on.”

  She seemed to fly through the air, him still seated fully within her, then she was on her back. He pulled backwards and plunged, and she welcomed him, her body heating. A flush spread through her as he moved over her, and she encouraged him with her limbs and her voice. The warmth gave her pleasure, if not the intensity of a climax. His tension rose, and she anticipated his orgasm.

  “Sally,” he gasped in warning just before he jerked inside her, a groan escaping him as he climaxed. “Sally.”

  There was a lost note to her name, and she didn’t quite know what it meant, so she pulled him to her even while he shook with coming. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

  He moved his face to her neck and just breathed.

  He thought of Mrs. Whitmore then. Dana as she’d insisted she be called, since she was about his age. She’d been drunk one parent-teacher meeting, which was sad, Zach had recognized. When she’d approached him in that room, and he’d been cornered by her, like she was on a mission to seduce him and it wasn’t seductive in the least… Well, he hadn’t liked her much. She’d murmured something about how she would enjoy his performance. Now he couldn’t get the word out of his mind, performance, and he didn’t like it—or Dana.

  All he could do was make sure he didn’t suffocate Sally with his weight while he breathed in her scent. He didn’t know what she made of his performance, such as it was, but she smelled…happy. He couldn’t quite bring himself to ask if she’d come. He’d read about it, of course—for better or worse, he’d done some exploring on the Internet—but he’d basically lost his head and lost track of her reactions too. He needed to be more generous with her next time. He wanted a next time.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He wasn’t a coward so he lifted his face from her throat.

  “You.” She smiled, and God knows what she meant, but he smiled back. He could sense no disappointment within her. She touched his face, and he liked it, those slim fingers, that graceful wrist. “You’re like a gift to me.”

  He looked away for a moment, and she laughed.

  “There’s not exactly someone else in the bed I’m talking to, Zach.”

  Because he was unsure what to say, he rolled them over together so she could lie on top, and felt amazed afresh that her body was so light as it lay on his. He cupped her buttock, feeling possessive in a way that was new and meaningful to him. He had to make certain this relationship didn’t somehow harm Storm. Not because of Sally. He was confident she wanted what was best for the child, but because of him and how he managed himself.

  Sally propped herself on top of him and gazed down. “Worries?”

  “I just want to do what’s right.”

  She tilted her head, so he added, “With Storm.”

  Instead of taking some kind of umbrage, she nodded and traced a finger over his chest, tweaking a nipple to make him jerk slightly. She grinned to herself and looked at him again. “As you know, I’m not the relationship expert.”

  You are when it comes to us. He chose not to share that thought. No sense pounding such a message home.

  “But I’ve seen people, at the beginning, keep their relationship away from the child or children, until they’re confident it’s going to be…” she paused, as if searching for words, “…not necessarily permanent, but longer term. It’s not great for kids to have adults they need or want to depend upon, flitting in and out of their lives.” She laid her arms on his chest and placed her chin on her hands. “So for Storm, for now, we are friends, and I am his piano teacher.”

  He took a lock of her hair, curling it around his finger. The straight blonde-brown hair was silky and pretty. Like Sally. He wanted to tell her, but the words got caught in his throat.

  Oh, yeah, they were talking about Storm. “That makes sense,” he said. “I worry about him.”

  “I know. But it’s okay to focus on me when he’s not here. You’re looking a little guilty.”

  “He’s been my only purpose for well over a year.” A world was opening up where someone else might be important too. He wanted it badly, he realized, but he also wanted to do it right.

  “What do you do when he’s not here?” she asked.

  “I study.” He was not going to defend that, or what he studied.

  She started petting him, his chest, his shoulders, his face. Then they kissed again. It relaxed him this time. It also opened him up, so he tamped down the kiss and added, though it had been quite a few minutes since she’d asked the question, “I study high school.”

  It was only fair she know what she was dealing with.

  She sat and pulled him up so they faced each other. He had this dreadful idea she was going to offer to help him study, so he kissed her again, kissed her harder, and she softened in his arms. It felt nice, and right, the way her body responded to his. They kissed for a very long time. Then he could no longer resist and he lifted her up. She slid over and down his shaft, and they were together. That’s what she’d said before: together. He brushed his thumb over her nipple and watched her respond, felt himself harden further, and he rose up to stand.

  “What?” she asked, and he leaned her backwards so he could take her nipple into his mouth. She arched under him, moaning, and he began to lose it, though he was barely moving within her. The feeling was so exquisite, thought was about to flee again. He made a point to focus, concentrating on her, tugging harder on the nipple with his mouth, and her pleasure noises increased. Oh, he liked that. As he wrapped his other arm around her torso, he moved within her at the same time.

  “God.” That was her, low-voiced. “Again, Zach, now.”

  He didn’t know what she meant, so he repeated what he was doing, just harder, and her body told him she liked it. His body liked it too, and he incre
ased the tempo.

  All of a sudden, she cried out, rippling in his arms and around him, bringing him pleasure. Before he became completely mindless and dropped her, he released her nipple and lowered her to the bed. Began to rut, he couldn’t help it with her body gripping his so right and her urging him on with her words and sounds and movement. There was a kind of perfection in the way they moved, a rhythm he couldn’t resist that pulled him forward.

  He came, the white fire lighting him and taking him over, though this time he remained aware of her holding on to him, trembling beneath him. By the time he was spent, she was as out of breath as he was.

  “Oh my God,” she said, and the satisfaction of those words pleased him. “I do not usually come like that.”

  He blinked a bit, pulled back to the reality this was not all a discovery for her as it was for him. When he looked at her, she was beaming hard, and some of his doubts receded. Her eyes were shining, though, almost like tears were being held back.

  “Sally?” he asked, alarm rising. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you…”

  She gave a sharp shake of her head. “No. I’m happy.”

  Happy wasn’t the word he’d use to describe himself. He’d been completely broadsided and amazed by every minute of it.

  She wriggled out from under him, and he felt the loss. “Be right back,” she assured him and disappeared into the bathroom.

  He waited, trying to collect his thoughts. Sally, Storm and Wolf Town—too many problems to solve when he felt both relaxed in a bone-deep way he couldn’t remember experiencing before, and, well, befuddled seemed the best word. Surely it would all work out. But maybe people were always amazingly optimistic after sex.

  They would have to talk again, about the outside world, about Storm’s safety, and at that, he remembered they’d spoken of his brother. Zach’s heart lurched at the realization he’d forgotten about this ghost twin of his, even momentarily. When he’d been aching with the knowledge of his brother all week. She’d said his brother missed him and wanted to find him.

  Zach didn’t feel capable of launching into such a conversation now. It was beyond his ability to discuss what was sometimes an open wound, an absent part of him. He was exhausted and even stupider than usual.

  When she returned, he felt relief, as if she might have used that opportunity as an excuse to escape him for the rest of the night. He hadn’t thought ahead to how this would play out, but he didn’t want her to go, not yet.

  They didn’t speak again. She slid into bed and he went to her. Despite his reservations, his body had none, and they held each other like they’d been holding each other for years. She fell asleep first, half draped over him, and somehow, once her breaths had evened out, it was safe for him to sleep too. So he did.

  Chapter Eleven

  She woke warm and safe. She welcomed the sensation and tried to stay in the zone, where there was little thought, only feel-good emotion—and a scent she liked, a man’s scent. Unusual that, and her brain started to wake up because she hadn’t liked men for a while now.

  Horse shifter. She became alert, remembering.

  Zach. She’d slept with Zach. Had sex too. She was almost embarrassed to think it might have been the best sex of her life. She hadn’t been expecting it. Usually sex improved upon practice for her and her partners… Then again, usually she didn’t have sex after a five-year drought.

  That didn’t mean Zach wasn’t special.

  She sat up in sunshine and in an empty bed. Silence. She hoped she hadn’t somehow chased him away. Her heart pounded a few times, trying to catch up to her mind that was fully awake, and she jumped out of bed to find her clothes and pull them on. She hadn’t spent much of her life questioning her attractiveness, given what she was and how she’d been treated by fellow wolves, but Zach was no wolf and he hadn’t had a lot of opportunity in his life. It was easy for her to feel unsure.

  Nevertheless, her confidence was not the most important issue so she exited the bedroom and jogged down the stairs to look for him.

  Head bowed, arms on the kitchen counter, he jerked up from a book he was reading. An empty bowl sat at his elbow.

  She stopped, an awkwardness rising in her.

  “I was hungry,” he said then added, a dry note entering his voice, “I have to take care to eat a lot, and regularly. Also, I’m vegetarian.”

  Made curious by this new information, she forgot to be awkward. “Really?”

  “I can’t stomach meat. I suspect it’s my horse nature.” He still hadn’t risen from his stool. “Would you like something to eat?”

  She nodded.

  He pushed off from the counter and paused, gazing at her face. He was so grave. “I liked sleeping with you.”

  She melted a little, and his words allowed her to go up and wrap herself around him. He buried his face in her hair, his voice muffled as he spoke. “Cereal, porridge, toast—”

  “Porridge.” She could smell it. He’d made it and there was some left.

  As he got it for her, she wandered over and looked at the book he’d been reading. High school calculus. She lifted her gaze to find him holding her bowl, his expression wary.

  “I was never good at teaching myself stuff. Do you find it difficult to learn on your own?” she asked.

  It clearly wasn’t the question he expected, and he spent a moment thinking about it. “I can’t compare it to anything else. I went through grade-eleven math quite quickly.”

  “What’s quickly?”

  “A couple of weeks.”

  She smiled. “Good. Not all shifters are adept at book learning, but life is easier if you can teach yourself.”

  He laughed in disbelief. “I don’t think this counts for being good at book learning. I’m a thirty-something man who’s studying at a high school level. Most people would count that as stupid.”

  She tensed as anger flashed through her. “Who told you you were stupid? Because I want to punch them.”

  His baffled frown drew her to him, and she smoothed fingers over his forehead.

  He let out a breath. “Let’s change the subject.”

  “You bet.”

  His hands settled on her hips, and she liked the possessive nature of his touch. “You need to eat, shifter.”

  “Is that my nickname?” she asked.

  “Well, no. It’s just why you need to eat.”

  She obliged, pulling a stool over to the counter. An industrial-sized bowl was set in front of her. “I might not be able to eat it all, shifter or no.”

  “Really?”

  Grinning, she dug in. Between mouthfuls, she said, “Really. Not all shifters have equally high metabolisms, though I eat more compared to humans. It wouldn’t surprise me if horse shifters require more food than wolves, because let’s face it, Zach, you’re bigger than us in your animal form.”

  “I have some memories,” he said, seemingly out of the blue, but she waited for him to elaborate. “There’s a man, I’m pretty sure he’s my grandfather, and he’s worried my brother is going to starve. He was worried my brother was going to starve,” he amended. “It must be a memory.”

  “Your grandfather didn’t worry about you?” she asked in as neutral a tone as possible. She didn’t like the idea of someone being favored over Zach.

  “Not so much, I was the better eater. My brother was always too skinny.”

  Okay, maybe not favoritism. She wanted to say more, ask about his brother, but she waited because Zach wore a baffled look on his face.

  “How do I know that?” he asked.

  “Know what?”

  “That I was the better eater. That my grandfather was worried.” He grimaced, heat rising in his face. “These memories, these thoughts come out of nowhere. Like an ambush.”

  She didn’t know much about feral shifters and memory loss, but nevertheless suggested, “Maybe it’s normal, these snippets of memory.”

  “Maybe. Hell if I know. Sometimes it feels like more of a barrage. Hard to make
sense of.”

  She wanted to phone Trey’s niece Veronica. They’d met. In fact, Veronica had been the first wolf to talk to her after the debacle when Sally had been rescued. Sally hadn’t known about Veronica’s amnesia then. Their relationship, such as it was, hadn’t progressed to them being confidantes.

  “Sally,” said Zach, and she snapped her attention back to him. “I want to make contact with my brother.”

  She gazed at him, took in his tension, a kind of anguish there, and she told him, “I think you should.”

  “Not immediately.” He crossed his arms, drew in a breath. “I’m still worried about Storm because of the Hambly incident.”

  “We worry too.”

  Zach’s brow rose as he took in her agreement. “The chances Hambly worked alone are minimal, right? Him being wolf. I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had thought it was you and Wolf Town.” He gave a quick twist of a smile. “Now I suspect that’s not the case.”

  A part of her wished she could just whisk Zach and Storm over to Wolf Town and keep them safe there.

  “Do you have a specific reason to believe there are other wolves who know about Storm?”

  “Nothing beyond my gut, to be honest.”

  “Still. Maybe we need reinforcements, just to be safe,” she said slowly, unsure how he’d take to the idea of Wolf Town moving into his territory.

  Zach had hoped to get Sally back into bed before Storm’s return late in the day. His body sure wanted it. But the moment they’d started talking about his brother, then on to Storm’s safety and Hambly’s possible sidekicks… Well, whatever lay between them got set aside, and contacting Angus became their priority.

  Sally called up Wolf Town after eating her breakfast, and they had a three-way conversation, Sally playing intermediary. It became clear they had wanted to broach the idea of the danger of Hambly’s associates but hadn’t known how he’d take it. Sally the lover seemed to recede and become Sally the well-meaning envoy from Wolf Town.