by Anya Nowlan
“Tsk, Aubrey. Manners,” he cooed, a wicked grin on his lips. She froze, the need bubbling even hotter. “My house, my rules.” Deacon took off his belt, and for the first time, Aubrey could get a good long look at his torso. He had filled out his wide frame nicely over the years. When she had last been with him, he had been just a young man, scarcely out of his boyhood. Now, he was a man. The cut of his abs, the wide flat planes of his chest and the bulging slabs of muscle that formed his shoulders and arms all perfected a vision of strength, control and safety. She could imagine herself falling asleep in his arms just as easily as she could see him fighting tooth and nail for her. A moment of sadness crossed her for all those years lost, but it was swiftly driven away as he rained kisses on her mouth, down her neck and on her chest.
Instead of being careful, he ripped at her dress to get it off of her. She didn’t mind. The brilliant green fabric was discarded to the side in a heap and her bra followed, unhooked by the deftest of hands. Aubrey undid the button on his pants and pushed them down, Deacon complying eagerly. Her hands slipped up his abs and over his wide chest, marveling at the man under her fingertips. Her body was lit with need – all passion and desire for what she thought she could never have again. Deacon parted her legs, his fingers sliding down the skin of her inner thigh, making her shudder. He grinned at her involuntary reaction, something that would have made her feel uncomfortable with any other man. But not with Deacon. Not with how he was looking at her, like she was the best thing he’d ever seen.
He pushed the thong aside, and his rough fingertips parted the folds, teasing her with the nearness of what she wanted. Deacon leant forward, kissing her again, and Aubrey clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her breathing. His thumb made circles around her clit, and a strangled moan gurgles in her throat – part relief, part tension.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered feverishly, drawing a wolfish smile and then a life-giving kiss from the man. Two fingers slid into her tight, wet tunnel, and she gasped, her nails digging into his sides. Deacon’s chuckle was mixed with a growl as she bucked against him, wanting more. Aubrey slid one hand down his body and gripped his hard erection, her thumb spreading the drop of precum on the head. God, he was just as big as she remembered him. Impressive, even a little intimidating. Aubrey bit her lower lip as she slowly stroked down his length, marked by a long groan from Deacon.
“That’s it,” he said, the beast just under the surface. It was intoxicating, knowing that his primal side was just skulking under the veneer of humanity, the animal and man combining together to bring her such indescribable pleasure. He thrust his fingers deeper in her, making her yelp and arch her back, the pain tinting her pleasure just right. “That’s how you like it, isn’t it,” he teased, his breath hot on her skin as he kissed her neck. She stroked him harder, and the rumbling groan he gave made something blossom in her. It had been too long since she felt anything remotely as intense for a man and could be sure in the knowledge that her feelings were mirrored and matched.
Aubrey gripped him hard, her fingers barely encircling his girth. The bumps that the veins made under her fingers as she moved up and down were deliciously familiar, and she squeezed her thighs around him, both wanting him in her and loving the sense of control she had over him and he over her. Their movements matched in speed and force, and soon, their breaths grew ragged and their moans fevered. Each thrust into her pussy made Aubrey whimper and shudder. Suddenly, control was taken from her completely, and she felt herself not minding one bit. In fact, she welcomed it.
Deacon picked her up easily and spun her around. Aubrey landed on her hands and knees, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. He gripped her by the hips, and Aubrey purred in delight as Deacon rubbed his cock against her slick opening. The anticipation was killing her.
“Please fuck me,” she whispered, the urgency of her words alien to her ears. Was she, the mild-mannered and proper Aubrey Jameson, begging for his cock in her? She could scarcely believe it, but the tightening in her core told her that she’d spoken the truth. She didn’t just want it, she needed it. Only Deacon could bring her to flame like that, and deep within her, she’d always known that he would be the only man who could make her feel complete.
“With pleasure,” he said, a note of cockiness in his voice, struggling behind the strain of keeping himself reined in. She smirked through her gasps, and when he thrust into her, she screamed out so loud that the walls seemed to quake under the vibrations. Stretched wide, she trembled all over. Lasting through the initial shock of his size was no easy feat, but the raw sensuousness that filled her mere seconds later was well worth it. Deacon plunged into her, not giving an inch before he had taken her completely, sinking in to the hilt. Aubrey’s breath hardly seemed enough. The moans that spilled from her mouth were just a small token of her need and relief as Deacon pumped into her, making her succumb to his will and her own hidden lust like never before.
When they’d been together before, they were barely more than children. Yet, even then she knew he was someone special. The one. She’d denied it for far too long. Aubrey bucked back against Deacon, the man grunting in return. He yanked her back by her long, luscious red hair and stole a kiss from her mouth, their tongues mashing together violently. Aubrey slid a hand behind herself, stroking across his rock hard side and abs, loving the slight sheen of sweat that was forming on his skin. Deacon growled as she clenched down, the pleasure engulfing her in an animal bout of passion that escaped words and conscious thought. Deacon kneaded her breast, pinching her nipple, and the world went black for a second – a safe, blissful black.
“Deacon!” she yelped, her mouth parted in a long moan as the first of many orgasms to come washed over her. Every tiny bit of her was on fire, sparking to life and to action. Millions of volts flashed through her, making her blaze and burn with her release. Deacon cupped her chin with one hand, grinding into her from behind with slow, deep motions. His hand slid from her breasts to between her legs, flicking across her swollen clit and making Aubrey convulse.
“That’s it, Red. Scream for me,” he growled, using the old nickname she’d long forgotten. He rubbed her clit harder, and she did as told, her mind blank and free of all thoughts other than the wealth of pleasure she was experiencing.
Her pussy milked Deacon greedily, and there was no doubt that he had to be close to his own peak. Under her palm, she felt his breath growing more haggard and his thrusts shorter. Deacon moved to pull out of her but Aubrey caught him by the hip, pulling him back.
“No, please. Deacon, cum in me,” she whispered wildly, her green eyes pleading him. All she knew was that she wanted that closeness, that link between them that would be carried across the years they’d lost. Consequences be damned. Deacon hissed in a breath through gritted teeth and bit down on Aubrey’s shoulder. A fevered smile broke across her lips, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, loving their shared reckless abandon.
Deacon wrapped her in his strong embrace, as if shrinking Aubrey down to within a fraction of her size. She whimpered softly as he came, filling her with his werebear seed. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, the burning in her cheeks and the tremble that went through her marking the satisfaction that swirled within her. With a growl that rippled through her, Deacon pulled Aubrey back down on the couch and cradled her against him, both of them panting heavily.
“Just like old times,” he whispered after a few moments, grinning.
Aubrey met the smile with his, nodding quietly. Still, a pinprick at the back of her mind made her uneasy. Just like old times.
CHAPTER SIX
Deacon’s low, heavy breaths came like clockwork, one after another. A hint of light was peeking in through the thick curtains, casting a sliver across the hardwood floor. Aubrey gnawed on her lip as per usual when she was trying to make up her mind. Deacon held her hand in his big paw even in his sleep. She could barely stand to look at him. That happy, serene smile that lingered on his expression
broke her heart. Here he was, keeping her close and safe, giving her all of him, and she wasn’t even sure if she could accept it. How had she suddenly become the villain?
Aubrey’s heart constricted, and she felt short of breath as she stole a glance at the ruggedly handsome man beside her. He looked so at peace, having only fallen asleep a few hours ago, when dawn was already dotting the skyline with a slight hue that shimmered through the snowstorm. The occasional thud or a pile of snow plummeting down from the roof was the only sound disturbing the peace other than Deacon’s sleepy breathing.
I can’t do this, she thought, her thoughts running in endless circles. I can’t be this reckless. What if I get hurt again? What if this ends up just being a fairytale again, one that leads me back to another decade of misery?
She had to struggle to keep her breaths even. The sex had been wonderful, everything she had remembered and so, so much better than before – something she had thought impossible. How could one improve on perfection? And yet, their bodies were made for each other. Her softness and his hard, commanding roughness melded together into a perfect harmony that sent her over her peak time and time again. They’d christened just about every surface in the ranch by the time they were through, and Aubrey had murmured a little prayer of thanks that they had made it to the bed at all. It was when neither one of them could muster another ounce of energy that they fell back on the mattress of his bed, and Deacon pulled her in his embrace, whispering sweet words in her ear and telling her how much he had missed her until he fell into a restful slumber. So why was she out of her head with panic?
It was all too familiar. That intoxicating high, that feeling of everything being as good as it could ever be. As much as it lifted her up, it also tore her down, sending bolts of trepidation skittering through her thoughts. When Deacon had been awake, she hadn’t paid it any heed, but when he fell asleep, the uncertainties gripped her and wouldn’t let go. Aubrey hadn’t managed a moment of sleep, and every second that passed meant her feeling more trapped in the spiral of her own dark thoughts. Her first instinct was to shake him awake, bury her head in his shoulder and tell him every nagging thought and aimless worry. Instead, the moment passed through her own indecision, and she was left all alone, grappling with the walls that seemed to be caving in on her.
Tears pricked her eyes, and finally, she got the courage to slither her hand free of his warm, assuring grasp. Making not a peep, Aubrey slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed out of the bedroom. She paused at the door, careful not to make too much noise as she pushed down on the heavy door handle. Only when the door closed behind her did she dare to heave a lungful of air. Her cheeks burned with regret and shame as she hurried through the house and got dressed, throwing things into the suitcase haphazardly. By the time she was clothed and ready to make her escape, tears were running freely down her cheeks. Aubrey ran out of the house, grabbing Deacon’s keys on her way out. The heavy snowfall and strong wind that met her at the front door almost knocked her off her feet.
“If I can only get out of here, I can think clearly,” Aubrey muttered to herself, throwing her suitcase on the backseat and jumping into the driver’s seat. She backed out of the yard easily, thanking her luck that there was no one to see her that early in the morning and in such an intense storm. The road was a washed out mess, completely lost under the snow. Here and there, she could spot a road marker, and it was sheer luck that she managed to stay on the path. It took a good few miles before Aubrey’s thoughts caught up with her need to flee. When they did, her stomach knotted and her hands began shaking. It all came back to her. Ten years ago, she’d done just the same. Ran from Deacon, ran from the only man she ever loved and who demanded to love her back, insecurities and all.
It had been another cold winter evening ten years ago. A storm had been raging all around the quiet, sleepy university town. Late in the night, Aubrey had been trudging towards the apartment she shared with Deacon, rushing through the snow in an effort to make it home and into his warm embrace. She’d fallen asleep at the library, and telephone lines were down all across town so she hadn’t even been able to call home. She knew Deacon had to be worried sick, but there wasn’t much else to do but buckle down and try to make it back in one piece. She thought her nose would fall off from the freezing temperatures, and she kept her hands cupped in front of her face as she rushed through the white wall of snow.
Aubrey hadn’t been too far from the apartment building when a flash of movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She whipped her head to the side, and for a moment, she didn’t understand what she was looking at. Only when the beast skidded to a halt in front of her, steam rising from its mouth and nostrils, did Aubrey’s wits return to her. The bear was as white as the fresh snowfall around him, almost invisible save for his jet black nose and deep, thoughtful brown eyes. Aubrey screamed, staring at the towering animal just inches from her. She stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with fright, and the strangled scream echoing through the quiet night. The heel of her boot caught behind her other foot, and she went tumbling, landing on her ass in a pile of snow.
Then, something even more impossible than meeting a polar bear in Idaho happened. The animal stood upright on its powerful hind legs, and Aubrey reflexively covered her face with her hands, staring out from between flailed fingers. The bear morphed, shrinking from unbeatable beast to a man just as impressive. Gone was the white fur, and the brown eyes flickered grey, though they kept their depth of emotion. The eyes she knew so well, the arms that had held her close. Deacon knelt in front of Aubrey and moved to embrace her, but Aubrey recoiled from him violently.
“What are you!?” she stuttered, her heart pounding in her ears. A hint of remorse flickered across Deacon’s features, but it barely registered with Aubrey. She was far too scared, shocked and aggravated to be thinking straight.
“Aubrey, we need to get you inside. You must be freezing,” he said, his voice level. The look he gave her could stand for no argument, but she wasn’t about to give in that easily.
“Deacon, what’s going on?”
“I’m a werebear,” he replied, his shoulders already covered with a dusting of snow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aubrey’s world seemed to be crumbling around her. Instead of the wonderful, trusting relationship she thought she was in, she found that the man she told everything to had been hiding the biggest thing about himself from her. Shifters were little more than an urban myth at that point in time and nowhere near as prevalent and as accepted as they were now. Hiding his animal was the only right thing to do, but the mingling of fear and disappointment drowned out the rational voice in Aubrey’s head.
“I didn’t want you to be afraid of me, Aubrey. I wanted you to know me as well as I think I know you before I drop this on you. I was waiting for the right moment. I got so worried about you when you didn’t come home tonight that I had to come out and look for you. Red, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Deacon reached out for her again but Aubrey jumped back, scrambling on her feet.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, whipping around and running in the opposite direction. It didn’t even matter where she was going, as long as it was away.
The memory was like a kick in the gut. Now, years later, she knew that what Deacon had done had been the only right choice. He couldn’t have risked his own safety as well as hers by sharing his shifter background with her before he could be sure she was able to handle it gracefully. Obviously, she had failed at that task, and he had been right in keeping it to himself. And now, ten years wiser, she was running away from him again. Running in the polar opposite direction of where she wanted to be. Aubrey’s hands shook so hard she had trouble holding on to the wheel. She slowly decelerated and brought the truck to a stop, the snow swiftly piling around the vehicle.
The tears that had been streaming down her cheeks now came as a torrent, unstoppable. She buried her face in her hands, letting out the sorrowful sobs she had bee
n keeping tucked away in herself since fleeing from Idaho all those years ago. Then, she had been too proud to admit that she needed Deacon more than she could possibly put into words. Instead of going to him and sorting things out, she’d taken the easy way out and regretted every minute of it since. Given a second chance, she had botched it again, her fear of getting hurt knocking the sense right out of her. Her shoulder shook under the weight of her disappointment in herself and the weakness that gripped her.
Now, it all became clear. It wasn’t Deacon who she had been angry with when he met her at the airport. There was no one else to blame but herself. And recognizing that was no easy feat to undertake, especially when it meant admitting that she had lost ten beautiful years with a wonderful man. Past failures haunted her, dangling the happiness she could have shared with the cowboy of her dreams in front of her, and bile wanted to rise in her throat from her mounting disappointment. Deacon had reached out to her, giving her a chance to right the wrong, and she had neglected to grab hold of it.
It’s too late, Aubrey told herself darkly, the heaving sobs slowly dying down. Her throat was raw. How could he ever forgive you for running away twice? For abandoning him twice? Of course, Deacon was not blameless in it all, but Aubrey knew for a fact that it was her lack of confidence that had brought them to where they were now. Both miserable, both needing the other to complete their lives. Mates denied the love of their other half through no fault but their own. Aubrey wrung her fingers, trying to gather some semblance of self-control. She looked up, and she could barely see out of the car, it was all blanketed under heavy snowfall.
