A Pebble for Lewis (Alaskan Pebble Gifters Book 1)

by Amy Bellows

  I want to close my eyes, it feels so good.

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  But he doesn’t turn his attention back to the screen. Instead, he lifts his hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. The shell of my ear burns under his gentle touch.

  “Do you want a drink?”

  I’m not sure if drinking is a good idea right now, but I nod anyway.

  He gets up, and the right ride of my body feels cold in his absence.

  “Beer? I have Alaskan Amber. Or rum and Coke.”

  I shrug. “Whatever.” Even though I should specify beer. Whenever I drink liquor, I get loopy and stupid. But a part of me wants to be loopy and stupid tonight. I’m sick of being good. I’ve wanted Todd for years, and I’ve held back because I’ve been afraid.

  Maybe I don’t want to be afraid tonight.

  “Okay,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

  6

  Todd

  I’m a fucking idiot. As soon as Ansel came over, I should have texted Lewis or found another alpha to help him out. But what was I supposed to say? I’m seeing someone? I’m not.

  Things are so complicated with Lewis right now. I should grab us both beers. Hell, I should be drinking water.

  I get out the rum instead. At this point, why not? The whole day’s been a disaster. First, I couldn’t get it up for Ansel. I had to explain why, so I told him a mostly true story about a casual “on again, off again” friendship I had with a penguin shifter I was jonesing for, instead of admitting I’m head over heels for Lewis. I’m still not sure if Ansel bought it. Lewis wants to keep our friendship a secret, but that’s becoming harder and harder as time goes on. My friends think I’m a recluse. And I am, aren’t I? Lewis and I stay inside and play games almost every night.

  I get out a bottle of Coke, two glasses, and some ice. At this point, I don’t bother with a shot glass. I pour a finger of rum for each of us over the ice and add some Coke.

  If we could go out to dinner together or introduce each other to our friends, things would be better. Healthier. Maybe it would force us to talk about what this is. Because we have to at some point.

  You know, whenever I’m ready to give Lewis up.

  Which means never.

  Or maybe when I get drunk enough. Whatever comes first.

  I take a long swallow of my drink before I walk back into the front room and give Lewis his. He takes it from me gingerly, like he’s afraid it might explode. That’s fair. The last time he drank liquor, he told me my white hair made me look like “Santa Claus if he was young and hot and on the cover of GQ magazine.” Then he proceeded to sing Christmas carols all night, even though it was July.

  I hold out my glass to him in some kind of “let’s do this stupid thing together” gesture. He clinks his glass against mine and brings the drink to his lips. After hesitating for a second, he downs half of it in one go.

  Wow. I guess we’re doing this.

  I sit beside him on the couch. Not as close as before, but it doesn’t matter. Lewis scoots over until our thighs are touching. His dazed expression indicates he’s already intoxicated.

  He takes another long drink from his glass. Maybe I should tell him to slow down. He’s a lightweight. But I knock back the rest of my drink instead. Unfortunately, he interprets that as a challenge and finishes his off as well.

  “Well, I’m drunk,” he says.

  It’s cute how fast he can get drunk, but also a little concerning.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  He thinks about it for a second. “No. No, I’m not.”

  “Do you need water?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Who the hell is this Ansel guy? I mean, why does he have to be so pretty? He’s like a supermodel. And you couldn’t even knot him?” Lewis leans back against the couch and rests his head against the cushion. “What does a guy need to do to get your attention? Does he have to be a god?”

  Yep. Lewis is drunk.

  “He doesn’t have to be a god.” I pause because what I want to say next is a really, really bad idea. I already pretty much admitted to being in love with him, and he obviously wasn’t interested. I say it anyway. “He just has to be you.”

  Lewis’s mouth opens in shock. I don’t blame him. I’m shocked I said that too. I’m not even drunk yet.

  “Excuse me. I need another drink.” I also need to get away from him because I can’t face what he’s going to say yet. I don’t ask if he wants one too. He can’t be trusted with more alcohol right now.

  I take my time pouring myself a second rum and Coke. I get Lewis some water too, because God knows he’s going to need it. What’s he going to say when I get back into the front room?

  If Lewis turns me down even when he’s drunk, what am I going to do?

  Drink more rum, apparently. I’m a big guy, so I down a shot before pouring more alcohol in my drink. I want to be numb. Then maybe it won’t hurt as bad when the man I love tells me outright that we can’t be together.

  I add coke to the rum in my glass and head back into the front room. Lewis watches me closely every step. I wish I hadn’t told him how I feel. Now everything is on the line, and I’m not sure I’m ready.

  My drink sloshes a little as I sit down.

  Lewis bites his lip and pulls his legs up to his chest. He sits there, not saying anything, for a ridiculously long time. Just when I think he’s going to ignore what I said, he opens his mouth. “I think you’re handsome.”

  If he was any other omega, I’d flash him my best seductive smile and lean in for a kiss. But this is Lewis.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Handsome? It means you’re good-looking. In a very brawny, alpha way with all the big muscles and the strong jaw—”

  I set my drink down on the table and lean closer to him, but not for a kiss. I look directly in his eyes. “And what does that mean, Lewis? Do I have a chance with you?”

  He giggles. I regret giving him rum when we need to have a serious conversation. Then he jerks forward and kisses me directly on the lips. It’s only for a split second, but my lips spark like fireworks.

  His smile fades. “Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never kissed—”

  I slide my hand along the back of his neck, threading my fingers through his thick, dark hair, and press my lips to his. I worry he’s going to pull away or be angry, but he relaxes and lets out a soft little moan.

  Without warning, the kiss switches from gentle and tentative to hungry. Lewis’s hands grab the front of my shirt, yanking me closer. I dive my tongue into his mouth, and we’re devouring each other. My lips are on fire. The way his tongue drags against mine makes me harder than Ansel ever could. I suck at his lower lip, the way I’ve fantasized about for years. He groans again. How did we hold off doing this for so long? Lewis and I belong together.

  I release his lower lip and go in for another kiss, when Lewis wrenches away from me. That full bottom lip I was sucking at only a moment ago trembles, and he lets out a sob.

  “What is it?” I ask in a whisper. Speaking too loud might break the spell.

  “I want to be with you.”

  I smile. “Good. I want to be with you too, Lewis. You have no idea how much—”

  He shakes his head, his body convulsing with another sob. “No. Not for just a few years. I’m not a polar bear shifter, Todd.”

  He means for life. He wants to be with me for the rest of our lives. I think I want that too, but we’re only twenty-one. How can we make a decision like that without dating first?

  “How about we give it a trial run?” The second those words come out of my mouth, Lewis curls in on himself. I don’t know what to do. We’re from different cultures. If we’re going to make this work, we’d need to figure out how to navigate those differences, especially if we plan to be mates for life. I wish I could give him forever right now, but wouldn’t committing to him before I’m ready be even worse?

  I refuse to be like his alpha dad. If I promise to
be with Lewis for the rest of my life, that’s a promise I’ll never break.

  “Shouldn’t we discuss what the two of us being together would look like? No one even knows we’re friends right now. How are they going to react if I claim you a full two years before your Pebble Gifting Season?”

  He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Polar bear shifters are the ones who go on and on about the power of love. Are you in love with me or not?”

  “I am! But I want to be sure I could make you happy. Do you want me to lie to you just so I can get you in my bed? Penguin shifters are the ones who go on and on about planning for success, right? C’mon, Lewis. Plan with me.”

  Suddenly, this whole situation seems hilarious to me. Lewis is asking me to throw all caution to the wind, and I’m asking him to be cautious—the opposite of what I thought this conversation would look like. I try to hold back a laugh, but I’m not entirely successful. Lewis seems to get the joke too because he laughs as well. A breathy, short laugh at first, before erupting into giggles. We laugh together for several minutes, and it feels good. It feels normal. I’m simply laughing with my best friend.

  He finally gets a hold of himself and places his hand on my knee. “How would we do this?”

  I rest my hand on top of his and squeeze. “I guess we have to decide what a relationship between a polar bear shifter and a penguin shifter would be like.”

  7

  Lewis

  This is crazy. My dad is going to freak out. His moms are going to think we’re insane.

  I don’t care.

  Of course, I’m stupid drunk. That might be part of it. But I was in love with him before I started drinking.

  “First off, there has to be a lot of kissing. I think kissing is amaaaazing,” I tell him.

  He chuckles and leans in to kiss my forehead. Which isn’t what I had in mind, but it’s so sweet I melt a little.

  “Okay. A lot of kissing. That works for me. What are we going to do about our friends and family? At some point, we’ll need to tell them something.”

  I don’t want to think about that right now. I just kissed Todd for the first time, and I want to kiss him again.

  “Can’t we figure that out later? When I’m not so… rum infested.”

  He laughs again. “Rum infested?”

  “You know what I mean. I think we should figure out how we’re going to have sex. Don’t couples do that? We should figure that out. It’s very important.” I’m not sure if all of those words are clear. I’m slurring a little.

  He gives me an indulgent smile like I’m a puppy or a precocious child. “Not tonight. When I make love to you for the first time, you’ll be sober. I don’t want you to regret anything we do together. Especially not that.”

  Why does he have to be so noble? Here I am, practically throwing myself at him, and he isn’t getting with the program.

  “How about you drink more rum?” I say, hoping that will help. “One of us is a lot drunker than the other. That’s not good.”

  He picks up his glass and drinks more than half of it before setting it down again. “I hold my liquor a lot better than you, I’m afraid.”

  That isn’t an impressive feat. Penguin shifters only drink on holidays and, even then, only small amounts of wine. Besides, Todd is easily twice as wide as I am.

  “C’mon. More. You’re enormous.”

  He raises both of his eyebrows. “Enormous? Jesus. Thanks.”

  The rum makes me want to do a lot of stupid things, including insult my new boyfriend. Is he my boyfriend? In any case, one of those stupid things is attempting to climb on Todd’s lap. I straddle his legs like a pony and spread my fingers across his chest. Which, to be fair, is enormous. It’s not my fault he’s huge.

  “I like it. You’re like a mountain. You even have snow at the top.” I reach up and pat his white hair.

  He rests his hands on my thighs, which is a very exciting development. Apparently, I have a million nerve endings on every inch of my body, and Todd’s hands make them explode.

  “We’re not going to have a productive conversation about this right now, are we?”

  I grin and shake my head. “You’ll just have to ravage me.”

  “It’s ravish. Ravage is the violent one.”

  I wrap my hands around his neck and press my forehead to his. “Ravish me ravagely.”

  “That’s not… never mind. How about this? Tonight we’ll kiss and play video games. Tomorrow we’ll talk about important things like our relationship and the definition of things you want me to do to you.”

  Kissing is a step in the right direction.

  “What are the chances I could seduce you?” I ask.

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “Not a chance in the world. You’re a virgin, love. And like you said, I’m a big guy. Let’s save the sex until tomorrow, okay?”

  When he calls me “love,” it makes me feel like putty. Happy putty. Why did I ever think this was a bad idea? Being with Todd is wonderful.

  “Okay. But you have to kiss me a lot to make up for it.”

  He kisses my cheek, my chin, and the edge of my lip.

  “Lots of kissing I can do.”

  8

  Todd

  Lewis is pure temptation with his sweet little ass wiggling on top of my legs and his soft lips pressing against mine. I force myself to keep the kiss gentle, even though I want to grab his ass with both hands and thrust my tongue into his mouth until we’re both so consumed by desire that all my good intentions evaporate. I remind myself Lewis is drunk, and I’m not that kind of alpha.

  In an attempt to stop my hands from wandering, I grip his legs harder. He hums against my lips and does another hip wiggle. He’s so fucking sensitive. His hot, wet tongue darts out and licks along my upper lip.

  “That’s weird, isn’t it?” he asks.

  “No—”

  “It is weird. I don’t know what I’m doing. Ansel probably knew what he was doing.”

  Damn it. “I told you I couldn’t get it up—”

  “Yeah, but he said your knot was big. You’ve clearly had sex with him before.”

  That was years ago. Back then Ansel and I had decent chemistry. Knotting him certainly wasn’t a hardship, and unless an alpha is attached, denying an omega in heat is rude in polar bear shifter culture.

  “Ansel and I are friends.”

  Lewis scrunches his shoulders together. “You and I are friends.”

  We have to talk about this. Not all of it. Some of it can wait until tomorrow. But we need to get a few things straight tonight.

  “Lewis, I’m in love with you. And I want whatever this is between us to be exclusive. I won’t be helping any friends through their heats anymore, okay?”

  His shoulders don’t relax, but he gives me a shy, close-lipped smile. “You’re really in love with me?”

  “God, yes. Do you think I’d put our friendship on the line for anything less? I’m crazy about you. And I like the way you kiss. I don’t expect you to be some of kind of expert, okay? Whatever we do together will feel good to me because it’s with you.”

  Tears well in his big, brown eyes. “Todd, I love you too. And I’m so scared.”

  His emotions are all over the place tonight.

  “What are you scared of?” I ask.

  He collapses into me, resting his head on my shoulder and tucking his arms in between our bodies. “I’m scared I won’t be enough. You’ve been with so many guys. What if you’re disappointed? I could never bear it, knowing you left me because I wasn’t what you wanted.”

  “Oh, Lewis. You won’t disappoint me. Sex isn’t like that. It’s a connection between two people. There’s no way connecting with you like that wouldn’t be amazing.”

  I don’t mention that he’s gorgeous or that kissing him already makes me so hard I can barely keep my body in check.

  “But Ansel doesn’t have any body hair. Do polar bear shifter omegas not have body hair?”

  I wrap m
y arms around him and kiss the top of his head. “Ansel is high maintenance, okay? He probably waxes or something.”

  “Polar bear shifter omegas wax?” His voice comes out in a squeak.

  I hold back a laugh. “Some of them do. But don’t worry about it, okay? I’m sure whatever body hair you have is lovely.”

  “What if I’m no good at oral, and I can’t make you come?”

  At this point, all he’d have to do is take me in his mouth and I’d probably come. I wish he wouldn’t worry so much.

  “Then I’ll teach you. I happen to be very good at oral. I can’t wait to taste you.”

  Lewis lets out a long, shaky breath. “Maybe we should go to sleep so we can get up and do that.”

  Alcohol always makes him sleepy. It’s probably for the best.

  “Do you want to sleep with me in my bed?” I ask.

  “Would that be okay?”

  “Yes. That would be very okay.”

  His body relaxes, and almost instantly his breath lengthens and evens out, the way it does when he falls asleep on my couch. I shift forward and readjust him until I have one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulders. His eyes are closed. He looks so sweet—all peaceful and cuddling close to me.

  I carry him into my bedroom and lay him out on my bed, pulling the covers over his sleeping body. Lying down next to him feels right in a way lying with an omega never has before. This is where Lewis belongs. And this is where I belong too—by his side. It’s taken years for us to accept it because it seems so impossible. But I’m done pretending this isn’t happening between us.

  I reach my arm across Lewis’s body and hold him close while I fall asleep.

  9

  Lewis

  I wake up in a bed that’s not mine. Memories come rushing back. Did I really pat Todd’s head and call him a mountain? How embarrassing. More importantly, did I really kiss Todd? Are we truly together now? Maybe he was more drunk than he let on, and he feels differently now. He’s not in his bed anymore. Is he waiting in the front room to let me down gently as soon as I get up?