by Rosanna Leo
My mate.
Gioia was his. No more questions.
It seemed ages before they were able to separate their rampaging mouths. He leaned his forehead against hers, and she panted softly, nestled against him. He watched her gorgeous chest rise and fall and smoothed his hand up her torso, desperate to cup her breast. “Gioia.”
She stopped him, her voice catching, her hand upon his. “No. Too soon.”
No two words had ever sliced into him with such savagery. Too soon. No. After a life spent floundering, seeking comfort in the wrong women’s arms, it wasn’t too soon. It wasn’t soon enough. He needed to hold his mate. Soren forced a breath into his lungs and tried to silence his roaring bear. He pulled away from her, just an inch or so, and immediately felt the need to yank her back into a tight embrace. “I won’t apologize for kissing you. An apology would imply it was wrong, and it wasn’t.”
Gioia stared at him, her eyes squinting in wonderment. Or was it because she was missing her glasses? He handed them back to her.
She slid them on over her reddened face. “Thanks. I’m blind without them. I can only see outlines and colors.” She slowly met his gaze once more. Her erratic heartbeat was made obvious by the tiny, pulsating vein in her neck. A delicate flush trailed over her cheeks and down into her cleavage. And her lips turned up in a heartbreaking half-smile.
Hot damn, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And he’d travelled the world on his music tours. The Taj Mahal, the Louvre, the Hermitage. None of those places contained works of art to rival Gioia Clementine’s shy smile. “I need to kiss you again.”
“Soren,” she began, shaking her head. “I haven’t done this in a long time. Gunnar and I are only here for two weeks…and I won’t be a notch on your belt.”
“A notch? You think I see you as a notch?” He had to refrain from gasping like a heroine in a melodramatic black and white movie. Bile crept up into his throat.
“I don’t know. Don’t you?”
He’d never been more ashamed of who he was. He got the strange sensation his sanity was wrapped up in her words, like the scarf she’d been knitting, slowly unraveling. His mate thought she was a notch.
And he couldn’t blame her. What should he say to make her stay? “Gioia, I…”
“I should get back to Gunnar.” Once again, the bashful curl of her lips made his heart race. She turned from him and followed the path back to the lodge.
And as Soren watched her swift retreat, her high arches clicking on the wooden boardwalk, foul vomit and shame flooded his mouth. He turned and hurled his upper half over the railing and spewed his self-loathing into the pristine lake.
As his violent spasms slowly turned into dry heaves, he stood and wiped his mouth with his arm. A new determination took hold of him as he listened to Gioia’s now-distant footsteps.
He had no idea how to go about it, having no experience, but he would become the sort of man to make Gioia proud. He was done with other women, done with models and airheads and trophy girlfriends. Done with mindless fucking and seduction as a competitive sport.
No more notches.
Chapter 5
As she raced toward the lodge, weaving around a group of excited-looking fishermen who seemed intent on flagging her down to share a beer with them, Gioia encountered Lia. Ryland’s mate was sunning herself on one of the patios, a laptop forgotten on her lap. As Gioia approached, hands shaking, Lia opened her eyes and sat up.
“Gioia? What’s wrong? It’s not Wes, is it?”
She almost wished it were Wes. She could handle her lunatic cousin’s mood swings and his sudden deviant desires. At least, she thought she could. Soren, however, not so much. “No, it’s not him.”
Lia took one look at her trembling hands. “Oh. It’s Soren, isn’t it?” Lia put her laptop aside and reached for Gioia’s hand. “Did he hurt you? Because if he did, Ryland and I will take pleasure in knocking him upside his pretty head.”
She touched her lips, marveling at how swollen they still felt, how they still tasted of him. “He didn’t hurt me. He kissed me.”
Lia’s eyes grew to half the size of her face. “Things are progressing quickly.”
“Lia…I liked it. A lot.” Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she allowed herself to concentrate on feelings she hadn’t yet buried. Soren made her feel things, good things. With one, searing kiss, he’d made her hope for a happy ending. Had made her dream again. He’d made her want to do something nice and girly for herself, like take a bubble bath or go shopping for frilly underwear. She hadn’t done anything so frivolous in a long time and wasn’t used to the tickle of delight in her womb. “This is ridiculous. He has a life somewhere else, a fabulous, exotic life. What do I do?”
Lia grinned. “There’s no reason Soren can’t be part of your life, Gioia, and I’m pretty sure he’ll want you to be part of his.” She rubbed her hand. “Have you told him everything about Gunnar yet?”
There was that too. Pain gripped her heart and squeezed. “No.”
A shout from the lodge entrance caught their attention. “Mrs. Clementine! Come!”
The women looked. It was one of the teens from Ryland’s mentoring program. The bear man had mentioned he was doing a counseling session with the kids today and was going to try to entice Gunnar to attend. Maybe he had?
Oh, no. Had he hurt someone?
Gioia dashed toward the lodge, with Lia following, and prayed.
* * * *
Soren heard about the altercation as soon as he entered the lodge. A staff member let it slip that Ryland was having trouble with one of the kids in the program. With a hunch about Gunnar, Soren took off for the gym his brother used for his sessions.
He heard the deep growl even before reaching the door.
Looking in the window, Soren spotted the young brown bear. The shifter was in the corner of the gym and had a teen boy up against the wall. The bear’s claws were right over the screaming kid’s heart.
Slowly, so as not to agitate the bear, Soren entered. Immediately, he saw his brother, Lia, and Gioia trying to calm the bear down. It had to be Gunnar. But what would make him shift in anger? There were a bunch of other kids huddled in the opposite corner of the room. Had one of them said something to provoke him?
“Honey, please,” Gioia pleaded. “Let him go.”
“He’ll apologize for the insults,” Ryland said through gritted teeth, glaring at the cornered teen. “Won’t you, Mike?”
Mike nodded, his round eyes pinned on Gunnar’s drooling bear mouth.
Gunnar bear just growled and sniffed at Mike.
Soren was sure the other kid would pee himself if he didn’t get out of Gunnar’s clutches. So he’d insulted his drumming protégé, eh? Little creep. Still, Gunnar didn’t need to have a senseless death on his hands.
Soren gestured at Gioia, warning her wordlessly to step back. Nodding in silent comprehension, she obeyed. Soren called on his bear. It wasn’t often he shifted, and he wasn’t sure he could trust his voracious beast around Gioia, but he could see no better reason to try.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Soren sucked air into his lungs and breathed through the quick, stabbing pain that assaulted every limb and hair follicle. He collapsed to the floor, breaking under a pain he hadn’t endured for a couple of months. But quickly enough, it became a strangely satisfying pain, like the pull of well-used muscles after a grueling workout. Somewhere behind him, Gioia called out to him in concern, but he didn’t look her way. Part of him didn’t want her to see this, even though a bigger part of him did. As his bones shifted and cracked into place, tiny hairs exploded through the skin all over his body, making him want to rub up against a nubby tree. Everything on him expanded and fell into place, and his clothes flew off in tatters. He opened up his eyes and looked at the floor. Instead of his hands, he saw paws and white fur.
Soren raised his head and grunted toward Gunnar. The smaller bear regarded him with curiosity, his keen eyes trying to understand
.
Mike, the other kid, taunted Gunnar. “See how you like it now, freak!”
Both he and Gunnar turned their predator heads toward Mike. Soren advanced, putting one humungous paw slowly in front of the other.
Mike began to stammer. “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it. I take it back. He’s not a freak.”
Ryland put his exasperated two cents in. “Considering you’re a shifter yourself, Mike, you’d better not call him a freak again, or I will send your scrawny ass home.”
Gunnar turned to Soren, unsure of what to do, and huffed.
Soren huffed back. He remembered what it was like. People might think being a young shifter was a power trip, that the unique abilities and strengths would go to one’s head. It wasn’t like that at all. Soren and Ryland had both been knocked about in high school. Luckily, because of their size and physical prowess, they’d eventually won a few of those fights. But Gunnar was only twelve and had lived through losing a parent. And this teenaged shit, Mike, who should know better at his age, needed to learn some humility.
Gunnar released Mike, and the kid scrambled away, followed by the others in the group. Soren watched as Ryland followed the other boy into the hall and had words with him. Gunnar lowered his head, and his shoulders slumped. From his vantage point, Soren saw a big, fat tear drip down the other bear’s muzzle.
No! Don’t cry, little dude. He padded over to Gunnar and prodded him with his nose.
Gunnar shied away with a rumbling lament. He was likely ashamed for flying off the handle. Soren watched as the boy quickly shifted and grabbed the remnants of his clothes to cover his skinny body. He dashed from the room, wiping his eyes.
Before she chased after her son, Gioia looked at Soren, her pinched face full of emotion. She mouthed the words, “thank you,” and left the gym.
Lia walked over to Soren and put a small hand on his hulking shoulder. He remained in his bear form so as not to force her to have to stare at his naked ass.
“You need to know something,” she whispered.
He nodded.
“Paul Clementine didn’t die of natural causes.” Her mouth twisted in empathy and worry for the young family. “Gunnar killed him.”
* * * *
He came upon them at the kid’s favorite escape tree in the woods. Gunnar was in it, Gioia was under it, offering her son silent companionship. Soren stared at the little family, his chest itching with a new ache. He wanted to help Gioia and her son but was so out of his element. Expressing feelings had never been a talent of his. The only thing he could think of to do was to give Gunnar a hug and to give Gioia a whole lot more.
Sometimes he wondered if sex was all he was good at, other than drumming. Gioia needed more than sex and a slick percussion beat, he was pretty sure.
He had so many questions. Would she even want to answer them? He hoped so, because Lia had clammed up after her horrific admission, saying he should talk to Gioia instead.
When footsteps tramped the undergrowth behind him, Soren turned and saw Wes. His first instinct was to tell Cousin Hick to back off, but the man headed straight for Gioia. After saying a quiet word to her, Wes called up to Gunnar. "Gunn, they're making caramel apples in the kitchen, and I heard they need tasters. How 'bout joining me?"
After a moment's silent consideration, Gunnar climbed down and joined Wes, trudging off quietly in search of sweet comfort food. Gioia was left alone under the tree, her arms hanging limp at her sides like a lost soul.
Make her feel better, his bear grumbled.
You don't need to tell me. Now shut up before I turn you into a bearskin rug.
As the need to touch and care for Gioia overwhelmed any ounce of fight still left in him, Soren strode toward her.
He would make her feel better. And he wouldn’t stop until he succeeded.
*
Gioia followed Soren's approach with a curious eye. She'd wondered if the miracle kisser would beat a hasty retreat after witnessing her boy fall to pieces, and yet here he was. He wore the same famished look he had right before he'd ruined her for any other man's kiss. And she felt it too. The tingles between her shoulder blade, the gelatin knees, and trembling lips that wanted to gobble him up.
She couldn't. She didn't want to saddle him with such a wreck of a woman or family.
He came right up to her, so close, as if making a mockery of the space that sought to separate them. Weaving his fingers through her hair, he cradled her skull and pulled her close. Tucking her head against his chest, he kissed the top of her head, blazing a trail of hot reaction down her spine. He had new clothes on and smelled fresh and clean. As she breathed him in, he rained soft kisses all over her head.
He knows.
She pulled away, suddenly terrified he'd think she was a travesty of a mother. It's what anyone would think in his case. They'd wonder what Gioia had done wrong to create a monster child. But as she attempted to remove herself from his grasp, Soren fought her by holding her still. Again she tried jerking away from his wall of a chest. He held her firm.
When she tried two more times, each time unsuccessfully, he looked at her and shouted, "Dammit, woman, I am not letting you go, so you can stop pulling away from me!"
Something in Gioia broke. She'd been carrying her sadness around for so long, trying to be strong, and Soren was offering to be strong for her. For just a moment, maybe she could surrender. God only knew how badly she wanted to give herself to the bear man.
He grabbed her tighter, and his hands slid down to mold over her ass cheeks. His warm breath was all over her face, and she took a dizzying dive into the seas of his eyes. He ground her against him, and she was forced to stand on tip toes.
"Gioia," he whispered.
She wound her arms about his tense neck, felt him tense further. Then…a sigh somewhere in his big frame and a relaxation in his muscles. As if he needed to have her wound about him. As if it soothed him as much as her.
"Soren. Please."
As he kissed her, he picked her up, his hands under her bottom. Her miniskirt rode up, and she spared a second to mentally curse her decision to wear it. And then she didn't care.
Kissing her madly, Soren spirited her into the woods. She couldn't tell where he was headed and would have gone with him anywhere anyway. Her glasses got in the way a few times, but their embrace was so fevered neither of them stopped to remove them. They just kissed and he clunked against her frames, swearing a couple of times. In his haste to move quickly, he bit her lip by mistake and slowed his pace while eyeing her bloody lip. "Oh, baby, did I hurt you?"
"I don't care." Ignoring the sting, she mashed her lips against his again. He responded, licking her tiny wound, swallowing her pain, and almost sending her over the erotic edge. Between his kisses, his hands on her bottom, and the bumpy ride as he raced through the woods, Gioia was already on the point of coming. One carefully-placed touch would detonate the bomb of lust in her core.
In another couple of minutes, Soren stopped moving. He wasn't even breathing hard from his sprint, even though he'd been lugging her hefty ass the whole way. Releasing her lips, he gently set her on the ground and gazed at her in clear awe. Dragging her gaze from him, a difficult task, she looked around. They were in a clearing so deep in the woods she couldn't hear the noises from the resort any longer. It was darker in this part of the forest as the trees were older and thicker around their trunks. She had to crane her neck to see the leaves; they might have been green clouds, they were so high in the sky. The air here was fresh and pristine, untouched by the exhaust from fishing boats. And below her feet was a blanket of the densest moss she'd ever seen. Surely fairies and pixies lived in this woodsy haven.
Her skirt was still riding somewhere around her waist, and her panties were hanging out. Thank God she'd thrown on her nicest white lace pair. As heat suffused her cheeks, she tried to wriggle her skirt back down over her hips.
Soren put a hand out and stopped her, his eyes glazed and focused on her bare legs. "No, d
on't. I need to see you."
The heat in his eyes was so all-consuming that Gioia found it difficult to stand. He wanted her, it was clear. And as much as her head was whirling with a new depth of emotion, her body also needed to possess him. She wanted to lie atop his frame, run her hands up and down his incredible length, and leave her mark on every inch of him. She’d never felt so much for anyone in such short a time, and it had her twisting and spinning inside.
Just one moment of sweetness in all the insanity. Maybe she could allow him to be her sanctuary, just for a short while.
It seemed forever as they gazed at each other, even though it must have been seconds. Each passing moment made Gioia want him more, and her hunger made her suddenly bold. Amazed she was doing so, she reached for Soren’s hand and placed it between her legs.
“Holy fuck,” he swore as his eyes rolled up under his closing lids.
She moved against his hand. He cupped her mound, stroking her through the lace. His long middle finger probed and tapped, and her skin swelled into his touch. Breathing shakily, she felt the tremors start to take her. His thumb pressed onto her clit, and her whole world felt ready to unravel.
But he wasn’t about to let her come yet; she could see it in the feral energy glowing in his eyes and the curve of his lips. Soren would draw this out, heightening her pleasure while taking her on his terms. It was the way of the bear men. When they loved, they were fierce, possessive, and unrelenting. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. Paul had been exactly the same.
Paul.
Guilt crowded her, forcing aside her wanton need. She slid away from Soren and clamped her legs shut on her throbbing pussy. This was so wrong.
“It’s not wrong, Gioia,” Soren said, his voice laced with tenderness and passion. Once again he reached for her, winding his strong arms around her.
“Can you hear my thoughts?”
“Not literally,” he conceded with a smile. “I just feel very connected to you.”
“I don’t understand this, Soren. I feel so…drawn to you as well.” She shook her head and let out a soft laugh. “You can tell I haven’t dated in years. I forgot you’re not supposed to say that to a man you hardly know.”
