Shifters of Silver Peak: A Very Shifty Christmas

by Georgette St. Clair

  “Well, gawrsh, Valerie.” Morgan affected a gee-shucks tone and pretended to look bashful. “You’re about to turn my head with all that pretty talk.”

  “Hold on, I’m not done yet.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Sometimes, you really get in your own way.”

  “How?”

  She gave him an annoyed look.

  “You know how. You’ve driven off some very talented contractors by being too much of a hardass. You’re frequently rude to people, and you don’t show your appreciation for a job well done.” She let out an exasperated groan. “Oh, for God’s sake, Morgan, you’ve got me doing it. You’ve got me talking about work.”

  “What else would we talk about?”

  “Really? Out here in the middle of this beautiful wilderness?” She seized his hand. “We don’t even need to talk, just relax. And appreciate. Look around you. Look at that stand of fir trees over there. Do you see the bird on the branch, that beautiful, tiny drop of red? It’s like a ruby. The colors are so clear and intense out here.”

  He looked at the bird. “Hadn’t noticed that.” He nodded slowly, and his tension seemed to fade a little.

  She pointed off at the mountain range in the distance, wreathed in white clouds, jagged and majestic against an ocean-blue sky.

  “The sky is so clear that you can see forever.”

  He followed the direction that she was pointing, and nodded. ”It’s beautiful. We live in a beautiful place.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  He closed his eyes.

  “What do you hear?” she asked.

  “I hear the wind rushing through the trees. I hear squirrels chasing each other through the branches. I hear the pileated woodpecker tapping on a dead fir. I hear your heartbeat. I hear each breath you take.”

  Her heartbeat. He was listening to her heartbeat.

  She felt herself trembling.

  “I can hear you shivering,” he said. “I should stoke up the fire.”

  “No,” she said. “Not yet. What do you smell?”

  “I smell woodsmoke. I smell ice and snow. I smell juniper berries. I smell you. The trace of your perfume, with citrus. And the sweet scent of your arousal.”

  He opened his eyes. “And now we’re going to go into the igloo and talk about what I can feel and taste.”

  As she crawled into the igloo, her heart was thumping and her mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions. She remembered Morgan pumping inside her and her pussy clenched with want. She could almost feel the touch of his lips on her skin, his big hands cupping her breasts, the radiant heat of his strong body.

  She reminded herself that was what it had all been about. A way to keep warm and fend off the arctic chill of the night. Morgan sharing the fierce heat of his shifter metabolism with her, sheltering her from the cold with his big body. Once this whole farce was over and Morgan had found a mate his family approved of, she’d be out of his life. If she hadn’t already been planning on quitting, she knew she wouldn’t be able to work with Morgan day and in and day out as his secretary anymore.

  Not when she knew what it was like to be his lover.

  On the other hand, this was the only time she’d ever have the chance to experience that again.

  One brief window in which she could hold him close and make believe that he was really hers.

  She shook her head to clear it and pushed her doubts aside as Morgan crawled into the domed space after her and drew her into his arms.

  Their kisses started off slow and sweet. Morgan’s lips were gentle against hers and she opened to him, allowing him to stroke her tongue with his. She slipped out of her coat and he ran his hand over her breasts and down her sides before pulling away and pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and his hands resting on her hips.

  He gave a shuddering breath and pulled away. She felt momentarily bereft until she realized he was spreading her coat out on the floor to make a comfortable place for them to lie.

  They undressed each other, taking their time, stopping after each discarded item of clothing for more kisses. He swept his hands over her curves and buried his face against the swell of her breast; she played her fingers over the hard planes of his stomach and teased his flat nipples with her tongue.

  Valerie’s inner thighs were slick with her own juices by the time he knelt over her where she lay on the floor, gazing down with an expression she couldn’t quite place. She squirmed impatiently and reached for him, but he grasped her wrists and pushed her hands down to either side of her head.

  “I said I’m going to tell you what I can feel,” he said, his voice hoarse. “What I can taste.”

  A delicious shiver ran through her as he lowered his head and kissed her lips. “You taste of granola bars,” he murmured. “Sweet and nutty.”

  He moved down to her throat and licked her pulse point. “I can taste the salt on your skin. I can feel your pulse against my tongue.”

  He scraped his teeth over her collarbone before cupping her breasts and kissing the pillowy mounds, teasing her nipples, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re so warm and soft. I want to sink into you.”

  As he said that, he ran his hand over her belly and down to the triangle of curls at the juncture of her thighs. He worked his finger between the slick lips of her pussy, pushing slowly inside her, testing and teasing.

  He groaned. “I can feel how wet you are for me,” he growled. “I can feel how much you want me. Valerie wordlessly moaned her assent, flexing her hips to push her mound against his palm in invitation.

  Then she gasped as he moved further down her body and parted her thighs with his hands, hovering with his face a scant inch away from her most intimate flesh. He inhaled deeply, and murmured, “You smell musky and sweet. I can feel the heat of your pussy on my lips.” He gave her a long, slow lick, dipping into her entrance and lapping over her clit with a firm little flick that made her moan and arch her back. “This is what I wanted to taste,” he growled.

  Then he was kissing her intimately, playing his tongue in quick, clever circles around that exquisitely sensitive bud before taking it between his lips and suckling, sending quicksilver threads of sensation through her body.

  She gasped and writhed against him, balling her hands into fists, her thighs trembling with tension against the sides of his face.

  Her internal muscles clenched and quivered as his clever mouth worked her toward ecstasy, sensation building upon sensation, Morgan’s lips and tongue unrelenting even as she all but shrieked her release and ground her pussy against his mouth. Every muscle in her body went rigid as her orgasm crested and climbed again, sending her tumbling into a maelstrom of pleasure that went on and on.

  She was still moaning with the aftershocks when Morgan covered her with his body and thrust inside her with a single, powerful motion.

  Even though she was soaking wet and more aroused than she’d ever been in her life, he stretched and filled her to the limit. With each clench of her core, she tightened around him, and she could feel the urgent throbbing of his engorged cock. He muttered a low curse, circling his hips almost imperceptibly, each tiny movement seeming unbearably magnified.

  Morgan rolled over onto his back, carrying her with him. He grasped her hips, lifting her slightly, encouraging her to ride him.

  Valerie obliged, putting her palms flat on the floor on the ice by his head for leverage, her generous breasts bouncing as she worked herself up and down on his thick cock. She was vaguely aware that her hands and her shins ached with cold, and realized that Morgan must have rolled off the coat and onto the packed-snow floor of the igloo, but she could tell his moans were of sheer pleasure, not of discomfort, and she wasn’t sure she could have stopped even if she’d wanted to.

  She raised and lowered herself, moaning as he flexed his hips, thrusting to meet her. He gripped her waist, breathing hard, and she flattened her hands on his chest, enjoying the searing heat of his honed muscles ma
king the lingering chill flee from her fingers.

  Morgan groaned helplessly. “Valerie, please… I don’t think I can hold on much longer…”

  She could see the strain in his jaw and the tendons standing out like cords in his neck. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her waist and his breathing was uneven, a hectic pattern of harsh gasps and shuddering exhalations.

  In response, she sat upright and threw back her head, riding him harder, drawing her tight flesh over his shaft from root to tip then driving back down, rocking her hips, sending them both flying toward release.

  As her whole being was overcome by blissful shudders that rolled and tumbled through her, Morgan arched beneath her and gave an impassioned shout as he spasmed into her tight, wet, heat. He cried out harshly again, shuddering as the sound turned into a low, helpless moan.

  Valerie collapsed against him, fighting for breath, laying her head on his chest and listening to his heart hammering beneath. Morgan growled happily and wrapped his arms around her, still half-hard inside her.

  Valerie didn’t feel cold at all. She only wondered that they hadn’t melted the igloo.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Yes, I will have a third cup of coffee, thank you,” Valerie said to Morgan’s maid DeeDee, taking an enormous gulp. Deedee, a short, rotund wolf shifter, was a member of Morgan’s pack. She and the rest of the household staff travelled around the country with him every time he relocated.

  “You’re on your first cup,” DeeDee pointed out.

  “I’m planning ahead.” Valerie drained the last of the coffee and held out her mug. DeeDee poured in more coffee from a carafe.

  They’d gotten back an hour earlier, having fulfilled the three-day requirement. It was eleven a.m., and they were gathered in the formal dining room at Morgan’s house. There were plates of food laid out along the white lace table runner.

  Warmth had never felt so good. That and food. Forget about sex, today Valerie was fantasizing about eating an enormous dinner and five desserts, then passing out in a soft feather bed under twenty comforters.

  Boothe had declared that they’d fulfilled the requirements, and he was headed back to California to be with his family.

  Eileen had come to make sure that her friend had gotten home safely and was still in one piece. Morgan’s family members had gathered at the other end of the long table, and they were eating food served by their own servants and muttering among themselves.

  Morgan walked up to the table, tucking his cell phone into his pocket. “I just talked to the fire marshal,” he said. “They checked the cabin, and at this point it appears as if the fire may have been accidental. They have no evidence of it being intentional.”

  DeeDee handed him a cup of coffee and he sucked it down thirstily.

  “I can’t believe you slept in an igloo,” Eileen said. “What was that like?”

  “Chilly.” Valerie shook her head and gave a dramatic shudder, then drank half her coffee in one gulp. She grabbed a hot cheese Danish off a sterling silver platter. “I love you, baby,” she said to the Danish. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She glanced at Morgan, broad-shouldered and gorgeous. He was stuffing a biscuit into his mouth, gravy was dribbling down his chin, and somehow he even managed to make that look sexy. “Second most beautiful,” she amended.

  She took a bite of the Danish and looked at it again. “First most beautiful,” she whispered to the pastry, sotto voce.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, you two think you had a hard time?” Nelda said irritably. “I had to go back to that dreadful shanty town twice to finish up the decorating, or they would have utterly botched it. I simply couldn’t sleep, thinking of what it would look like.” She glanced over at Arthur.

  “Arthur, don’t those people just have the worst decorating taste you ever saw?”

  Arthur was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. “Yes, ma’am,” he said without looking up.

  Nelda resumed her diatribe. “It took us hours and hours to make decent decorations, and all those human ladies kept talking to me. And that Teddy child kept following me around and asking annoying questions. I had to give her food to make her go away. And then she’d come back for more food.”

  “It’s almost like she’s hungry or something,” Valerie observed drily.

  “Well, then why doesn’t her family take her to a restaurant, or have their chef fix her something?” Nelda said, looking annoyed. “I swear, these people have no practical decision-making skills. Are all humans like that? Why do they insist on living in such tiny houses? Why do they drive old cars that are always breaking down? And the food those so-called Benevolent Society ladies were serving them, if you could even call it food. What’s benevolent about hot dogs? I was so sick of their swill that I ordered catering for everyone, and you’ve never seen such dreadful table manners. Forget about knowing which fork to use; those people use one fork for their entire meal. For every dish.”

  At the other end of the table, CoraBelle and Hud looked up, appearing suitably shocked and scandalized. They exchanged a glance that spoke of their horror and disdain. One fork?

  Nelda glanced over at Arthur for support. “And to think, the humans call us animals.” She made a tsking sound. “They don’t even use finger bowls. Can you imagine?”

  He looked up from his newspaper. “No. Yes. What were you talking about?”

  “That must have been so hard for you.” Valerie said it with a straight face. Eileen kicked her under the table and snickered into her hand.

  “Thank you. I’m glad someone appreciates what I went through,” Nelda said with wounded dignity, pushing her chair back from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go plan tonight’s meal.”

  Morgan grabbed a blueberry muffin from the plate. “I’ll be upstairs in my office,” he said to nobody in particular, and headed upstairs without glancing back at Valerie. Valerie felt as if he’d been avoiding contact with her from the moment they’d walked back into the house. What was his problem, all of a sudden?

  Honoria glanced down at the other end of the table at the other pack members, and she stood up. Homer followed suit. “We’re going to go study,” she said to Valerie. “Glad you made it back in one piece.” She and Homer left the room, after shooting a look of dislike at the other pack members.

  CoraBelle fixed Valerie with an unwelcoming stare and bit savagely into a cherry Danish. The red oozing from her mouth looked like blood.

  “DeeDee, everything was delicious,” Valerie said. She grabbed a muffin and she and Eileen left the breakfast table and went into the living room. They settled onto a big brown leather sofa, facing a crackling fire in a flagstone fireplace. Like the rest of the house, the room was decorated with top-of-the-line furniture but no personal touches. Morgan had left most of the work to a decorator.

  Valerie looked around the room. There were hand-carved statues on the fireplace mantel. There should be family photos mixed in there, and childhood knick-knacks made by Homer and Honoria. Maybe some plants. The room needed some softness, some signs of life.

  Well, she wasn’t going to have to look at it much longer anyway.

  She turned her attention back to Eileen.

  “So you’re sure Teddy’s okay?” she said.

  “Yes, I went to humanville to check on her.” Eileen didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Her mother still isn’t making any improvement, apparently. Nobody even knows where she is half the time. And Teddy’s aunt is overwhelmed with her own kids and her job. She keeps saying that she’ll keep an eye on Teddy, but she really doesn’t. Nelda was there the whole weekend, though, bossing everyone around. Poor Teddy kept following her around trying to hang on her coat.”

  Valerie winced. “Was Nelda horrible?”

  “Fairly horrible, yes. Although the humans were very gracious about it.” Eileen frowned, shaking her head. Then she lowered her voice and leaned in closer to Valerie. “Listen, the cabin catching on fire like that while Mo
rgan was out hunting…it seems awfully coincidental, don’t you think?” She glanced in the direction of the kitchen, where Nelda had just gone.

  Valerie felt a chill wash over her, even in the warmth of the living room. “Surely you don’t think Nelda had something to do with it?”

  “Well, if anyone started that fire, my money would be on Nelda.”

  “Why her?”

  “Because the attacker only went after you, not Morgan. From what you’ve told me, if you or Morgan chose to leave, that would cost Morgan his position as Alpha. But if you died, then Morgan could just get another mate before his thirtieth birthday. I mean, he’d really have to hustle, but he could do it.”

  “Ouch,” Valerie said, wincing at the thought. Morgan with another woman…she already knew it was inevitable, but she didn’t like picturing it.

  She thought about Nelda, her cutting remarks, her dirty looks.

  Was Morgan’s mother capable of cold-blooded murder? Did she want Valerie out of his life that badly?

  “Well,” she said, “it’s also possible that someone started the fire thinking that Morgan was still in the cabin with me. Assuming the fire was set on purpose. It could have just been an accident.”

  “Just watch yourself,” Eileen said, shaking her head. “There’s a lot at stake here, and a bunch of people who’d do just about anything for that Alpha position.”

  “Even murder?”

  “For control of the pack, and the pack’s finances, and a company which is worth hundreds of millions?” Eileen raised an eyebrow.

  Then she shrugged and leaned back on the couch. “So how was it being out there with Morgan?”

  “A couple of days of magic, and now…” Valerie shook her head unhappily. “As soon as we got back to the house, he seemed to withdraw. I can’t tell if it’s my imagination or not, but I really feel like he’s being weird. Is he ashamed of me?”