by Rosanna Leo
Soren grinned and landed a soft punch on his shoulder. “Yeah, for you too. I like you, little dude. You’re not as annoying as most kids. And you don’t usually smell too bad, although you could use a shower this morning. Did you sleep in the woods?”
The kid smiled. As most boys his age, he was proud of his foul odors.
“Yeah, shifter lesson number one. Shower before you show your dirty ass in public after sleeping rough. You got that, kid?”
Gunnar looked at the floor, and a quiet laugh made his shoulders ripple. He nodded.
“Now,” Soren said, eyeing the clock on the wall. “I have a few minutes before I need to be somewhere. I’m writing a piece for the New York Philharmonic, and I’m stuck on one of the percussion lines. I could use your help on that too. You know, advice from another talented drummer.”
The boy turned as white as newly fallen snow before the dogs decorated it. “You want my help?”
Soren gawked at him. “Yes, Captain Obvious. Unless you’re not up to the task.”
“I’m up to it.”
“Good.” Soren smiled. “Now shove over and let me show you what I’ve got so far.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Soren played the line for Gunnar, listening as the kid gave feedback and nodded his approval. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d needed help, and Gunnar’s ideas were surprisingly inventive and useful. The kid really was a raw talent.
And as their jam session came to an end, an interesting idea took root in Soren’s mind, one he enjoyed immensely. It would be hard keeping it under wraps, but he determined to keep it a secret so he could share it with Gioia and Gunnar later.
* * * *
Right before the appointed meet time with Gioia, Soren raced to his suite. He couldn’t wait to tell her Gunnar was okay. Soren had made sure the kid got some food from the buffet after their time together, and he felt pretty proud of his breakthrough with the boy. Maybe this parenting thing wasn’t so daunting after all. If he was going to be Gioia’s mate, he’d have to get used to the idea of having Gunnar around anyway. And he had to admit, he liked the boy.
But now he needed some serious time with mom. He was going to knock Gioia’s socks off. Would make her toes curl and make her see stars. As every possible cheesy metaphor for “mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasm” shot through his brain, he turned the corner into the hallway leading to his set of rooms in the lodge.
Before everything blew up last night, his time with Gioia had been off the charts. He hadn’t even come, and his painful dick was still lamenting the fact, but the experience had remained the most erotic of his life. He could still taste her and feel the throes of her orgasm under his fingertips. She’d responded to him as no woman ever had; in fact, he couldn’t remember any other woman’s response to him. They didn’t matter anymore. Gioia was his mate, and no one else was as important. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her come and making her smile.
He couldn’t wait to see her. Even the one hour away from her made him restless. And nervous. He’d wanted to mark her as his own last night, but after Gunnar’s nightmare and disappearing act, it hadn’t seemed appropriate. Soren’s whole body itched with the need to bite her sweet body and leave his imprint on her. His bear hadn’t given him a moment’s peace. Even then, the beast was wringing its paws inside him, agonized and desperate to be with their mate.
Reaching his suite, he swiped his security card and entered. Soren charged through the living area and headed straight for the bedroom, eager to tidy the place up before Gioia got there. As he entered the bedroom, he caught a strange scent: perfume.
He smiled. Gioia didn’t normally wear the stuff, but perhaps she’d sprayed some on before coming over. He leaned against the bedroom doorjamb, crossed his arms, and surveyed the scene.
“Someone’s been lying on my bed,” he said, summoning his deepest, most dulcet tones.
Someone was still in his bed. A very luscious someone whose curvy hips were outlined under the sheets. She’d covered herself up completely, right over the head, clearly wanting to surprise him. He loved surprises. And to make life even better, she’d brought a variety of interesting sex toys with her. Dildos, lubes, vibrators, all sitting in an enticing little mound on the bed next to her.
He stifled a tear. This was the best day of his life.
“Baby,” he said in a low growl, “I have never seen anything more inviting.”
He prowled over, kicked off his boots, and disrobed as quickly as possible. He lay next to her on the bed and smoothed a hand over her rounded hip. With his other hand, he tugged at the sheet covering her head, ready to smother her in kisses. The sheet came loose, revealing a very naked Marci.
Soren gawked at Ryland’s customer service clerk. “Marci! What the fuck?”
The shifter woman purred. “You didn’t come to me, so I came to you.” She leaned in for a kiss.
Right at that moment, Soren heard the door to the suite open. Horrified, he watched as Gioia entered, followed by Ry and Lia.
“Oh my God…” Gioia whispered, her complexion alternating in a morbidly fascinating show of red and white color.
Ryland and Lia stared, jaws open. “Oh, bro,” Ryland muttered. “Not a good move.”
Soren grabbed at the sheets to hide his nakedness but realized he’d only succeeded in uncovering Marci’s. Even more alarmed, he thrust the sheets back on top of Marci’s torso and looked around for something to hide his shame. He grabbed at the only thing he could see, a big pink dildo, and attempted to cover his crotch. The sex toy, generous in size as it was, did nothing to hide his own frustratingly large erection. He threw the toy to the floor, watched it bounce around as if in slow motion, and turned back to the aghast spectators. He grabbed a pillow, covered himself more adequately, and jumped off the bed. “Gioia, I swear this is not what it seems.”
She didn’t stomp and rant. That he could have dealt with. She didn’t cry. That would have been hard to see, but he could have handled it too. Instead, Gioia stared at him, trembling with apparent disgust. She looked him up and down, her gaze cold and hard. “You’re not what you seemed, either, Soren. Stay away from me and my son.”
With that, his mate turned and ran from him into the hallway.
As his bear lurched and fell in anguish, hot bile snaked up Soren’s throat. He gagged, swallowing the putrid chunks. “Gioia, no,” he spat, so close to hurling all over the floor.
As Ry moved to cover him with another blanket, Lia marched over to a suddenly shy Marci and glared at the young woman, hands on her hips. “What were you thinking, Marci?” she demanded. “Gioia is Soren’s mate!”
The girl looked between them all, stifled a shameful cry, and then broke into loud sobs. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know.” She wailed into her sheet, soaking it quickly with her hysterical tears. “It’s been so hard! Since I shifted for the first time, my hormones are on the fritz. My inner animal, my lynx, is so hard-up. She won’t stop nagging me! I just wanted to have sex. I’m still a virgin, and it’s driving me crazy. I figured if anyone was up for it, Soren would be.” She gawked at him, her golden-brown eyes full of tears, and her voice nearing dog-whistle pitch with each syllable. “I mean, he sleeps with every woman he meets, right?”
Soren felt faint as his notch on the belt conversation with Gioia slammed back into his brain. He wanted to die. Or join a monastery and take part in ritual flagellations for the next hundred years or so.
Gioia, his bear screamed.
“Oh, fuck, bro,” Ryland murmured, taken aback by the scenario. “Talk about your past coming back to haunt you.”
Lia shushed a still-weeping Marci, running a hand over the girl’s bed-mussed hair. “Don’t cry, Marci. Maybe we can find you a nice male lynx, one who isn’t already mated and who would love to take your virginity. You know, as part of a committed, loving relationship and not a guerilla attack.”
Marci nodded silently, her eyes swallowed up by tears and her mouth open
in a stifled cry. “Please don’t tell my parents.”
Soren clutched at the sleeves of Ryland’s plaid shirt. “Fuck. Her dad had better not demand a shotgun wedding now.”
Ry blinked a few times and called over to Marci. “I’m sure we can manage to keep this between us. Right?”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“I need to get to Gioia,” Soren moaned. “I need to explain. I can’t let her run around out there unmarked. She’s not safe.” He made for the door until Ryland tugged him back.
“Dude. Pants first.” Ry held out his hand for Lia. “We’ll start looking for her.” They left the room.
Soren looked at his naked body. Still clutching his pillow cover, one eye on Marci, whose eyebrow was cocked in begrudging interest, he reached over for his jeans and threw them on. Leaving the girl alone in his bed, something he’d never done before in his existence, Soren sprinted out of the room in search of his mate.
Chapter 9
Gioia tore through the resort, not knowing where she was running. All she knew was she needed to run. Away from that room, away from that beautiful shifter woman in Soren’s bed, and most of all, away from Soren.
The cheating scum.
The sight of him on his bed with the young woman and all those freak toys was too much to bear. Okay, she had a few sex toys at home too, but the ones Marci had deposited on her sheets looked way more sordid than Gioia’s discreet vibrators.
Marci. She’d seen the young woman around the resort and had liked her. Actually, she’d been sort of jealous of her. The girl was just coming into her own, a youthful shifter with her long life ahead of her, something Gioia would never be. Marci radiated the effortless beauty and sexuality all shifters possessed.
On the opposite side of the spectrum was herself. A woman who couldn’t run without losing a lung. A woman who couldn’t see without her glasses. A mother with stretch marks and cellulite and boobs with misshapen nipples.
No wonder Soren had been tempted. He’d be a fool to turn Marci down. She just hadn’t thought he’d disappoint her so soon after making her head spin with the greatest orgasm of her life.
She stopped running and looked around, hunched over with hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Interestingly enough, she seemed to be in the basement of the resort, which was weird because she had no recollection of running down any stairs. Of course, she had been blinded by hurt and betrayal. She might have scaled the Great Wall of China and she wouldn’t have noticed.
Walking now, she meandered down an industrial-grey hallway past storage rooms piled high with spare furniture. Spying a duplicate of the lodge’s comfy lobby chairs, Gioia entered one of the rooms and sat down.
It was nice here in the dark. She could almost lose the image of Soren in bed with another woman.
Okay, not really. It was forever etched into her frontal lobe, as if carved with a sharp dinner knife.
“How could he?” she whispered. They’d shared such a connection. It mystified her. She recognized she was the only one who’d come during their lovemaking session, but even Soren had seemed so…transported. She’d really believed he wanted her too.
And she wanted him so much. She supported her aching head with her hands, astounded at the pain in her soul. Why did it hurt so badly? She barely knew him. Yet he’d called her his mate. Shifters didn’t do that sort of thing lightly. When they talked mates, they meant it.
Hell, she’d been on the verge of believing it herself. She’d begun to realize maybe the reason she never mated with Paul was because she was meant to mate with Soren.
The part of her that believed it did not believe he would hurt her.
“Maybe I got it wrong,” she mused. “Maybe Marci being there was a mistake.”
The more she considered it, the more she understood Soren wouldn’t betray her in such a callous manner. No, not after seeing him defend her against the man in her room. He’d been too crazed, too worried for her.
As he must be now.
“Oh, fuck nuggets,” she murmured, feeling like a big dummy. Soren must be half insane looking for her, and she’d run away from him as if he were some sort of mustache-twirling villain. Now who was ashamed?
Determined to find him and make things right, Gioia pushed herself out of her basement sanctuary chair. She stood and walked toward the storage room door.
Right into Wes’ hard wall of a chest.
Wes, his eyes glassy and trained on her, locked the door behind him and advanced on her. His nostrils were flared, and there was a hint of spittle on his lips. His fevered gaze marauded up and down her form.
“Finally,” he muttered in an unfamiliar, harsh voice. “I get you to myself, and this time your boyfriend’s not here to take you away from me.”
The pheromone! Alarmed, Gioia backed up right into the plush chair again and fell into it. “Wes,” she pleaded. “Don’t do it. This isn’t you. It’s my scent. It’s making you crazy!”
He knelt in front of her, caging her into the chair, and buried his face in her neck. “You bet it is.” He dragged his tongue up her neck.
“Oh, God,” she spat. She tried to push him away, but he was powerful. “You’ll regret this. We’re related, for Christ’s sake!”
“Only by marriage,” he murmured against her neck. “Nothing wrong with this.” He sniffed her cheek. “Paul didn’t mark you. I won’t be so negligent, sweet little Gioia.”
To her horror, Wes placed his lips on her neck, and she felt the scrape of his teeth. The mark. No! She wanted Soren to mark her.
Summoning every ounce of strength in her, Gioia pushed against his massive body. She managed to wrestle him a few inches away from her and felt a streak of relief when his mouth lifted from her neck. However, she was exhausted from her run and didn’t have much strength left. Her arms collapsed under his weight, and he fell on top of her again.
As everything in her screamed at the absurdity of the situation, Gioia watched as Wes aimed for her skin again.
He bared his teeth.
Not knowing what else to do, Gioia screamed, “Soren!”
* * * *
Soren stood in the lobby and fought to stand upright as his bear fashioned a tortuous lasso of his intestines. “Where are you, Gioia?” he whispered into the air.
The pain was killing him. Ever since she’d run from him, his body had been responding with violent pangs. He knew something was wrong. He had to find her before some other shifter did.
Ryland and a couple of his security guards flanked him. “We’re going to find her, Soren. I promise. Just calm down and try to catch her scent.”
As his bear continued to torment him, using his guts as a punching bag, Soren struggled to inhale Gioia’s scent. It was everywhere and nowhere. She’d been there in the lobby, that he could tell, but her scent scattered from there, as if she’d run aimlessly in several directions.
As if trying so hard to lose him.
“Fuck,” he said on a shaky breath. He grunted. “Where is she?”
A couple of tourists looked in their direction, alarmed. Ryland put a hand on his back. “Hang in there, tiger.” He turned to his guards. “Bart, you take the east wing. Lloyd, you head outside. Let’s stay connected on the walkie talkies, okay?”
The other shifters took off just as Gunnar ambled over, a gigantic piece of pizza in his fist. “Little dude,” Soren said. “Have you seen your mom?”
Gunnar just stared, his eyes wide.
“Dammit,” Soren shouted. “Gunnar, this isn’t the time to clam up on me! Have you seen your mom? She’s in trouble.”
Gunnar swallowed. “No.” His eyes creased in confusion. “But I saw Uncle Wes. He ran over there.” The boy pointed toward the door to the basement stairs.
His bear roared, and Soren almost roared along with it. “Thanks, Gunnar.” With a nod to Ryland, they took off toward the door to the basement with Gunnar following.
* * * *
Gioia was at her wit’s end, to sa
y nothing of her stamina. “Wes, please,” she begged. “This isn’t like you. You’re better than this. You’re a good man.”
His warm breath was all over her face as he continued to strain for her. Clearly tired of her flailing and pushing, he pinned her arms down over her head. “Stop struggling!” His hard body pressed into her so hard she knew she’d leave one hell of an indentation in the chair cushions by the time he was done.
He aimed for her cheek, and Gioia turned her face from side to side, eager to avoid his mate-hungry teeth. Removing one of his hands from her wrists, he clamped onto her face and held her still. “Now, listen! I don’t want to hurt you, baby. I just want to mark you.”
“No, you don’t! I’m your cousin’s wife, for God’s sake.”
“My cousin’s dead. And he left you unprotected. Now it’s up to me to protect you.” Working under the spell of the pheromone and a seriously misguided sense of responsibility, Wes lunged for her again.
Gioia did the only thing she could think of. He straddled her on the chair, his legs imprisoning her on either side of her legs. She brought up her knee in a violent thrust and aimed for his balls.
The bear shifter’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he let out a cry worthy of the damned souls in purgatory. He rolled off her, and Gioia bolted out of the chair. She fumbled with the lock just as Wes regained equilibrium and glared at her. A low, threatening growl burst forth from his larynx. Unable to work the lock with her clammy fingers, Gioia raced around the room instead, praying she had enough strength in her to tire him out.
It seemed like a good plan, but then Wes shifted. He shouted in ursine outrage and dropped to the floor. His body thickened and expanded, and his clothing flew off in tatters. Bear Wes stared at her, huffing, and Gioia realized she saw very little of the man in his haunted, brown eyes. Wes, her nice cousin, was disappearing. And all because of this damned pheromone.
The brown bear growled and placed one big paw in front of the other, headed toward her.
