by Desiree Holt
She leaned over slightly before his lips attacked hers. There was no other word for it. She met him with equal fervor, and their lips, tongues, and teeth joined in an erotic dance that had her climbing onto his lap, in public, while trespassing. None of which bothered her at all until she heard, “The park is closed and you are officially trespassing,” through a megaphone.
Is He Lion?
The cop had been nice enough when he confronted them in the park, but they still had to leave. They finished their sandwiches on the way home, and Crina giggled like a school girl at being caught necking. Her feet ached something fierce due the craptastic choice of shoes she wore, but the pain was a thousand percent worth it. It was late, much later than she had thought it was when they got back to the hotel.
The elevator ride was much easier than the last. She allowed herself to give in to her need to rub against his face. She still didn’t fully understand why she wanted to do it but settled on it being a lion thing and called it good. After all, cats rubbed against things all the time, and too much thinking would’ve only ruined the moment.
She expected, or more accurately hoped, that they would continue their heated kissing session once they returned to the suite, but he gave her a peck on the forehead before bidding her good night. She would have felt rejected if she hadn’t seen the bulge in his pants before he turned to walk away.
Now, she was stretching in the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in, only an hour and a half from a morning date with the smexiest man she had ever laid eyes on, she felt remarkably amazing for someone who, according to the clock, only had four hours sleep. It was like a dream. A dream that, sadly, came with an expiration date, but a dream nonetheless, and she was going to enjoy it.
She took a long, heavenly shower, enjoying the multiple sprayer heads. Before their aborted business dinner, rushed for time, the luxurious decadence had been wasted. She wasn’t allowing that to happen again. Nope, she was going to waste an awful lot of water and not feel a stitch of guilt over it.
Wrapped in her bathrobe, she knocked on the adjoining door gently, not wanting to disturb him if he was still sleeping. She smiled at the image of him sound asleep and peaceful. Crina could feel him as he got closer, filling her with happy. He was awake. She had missed him, a feeling she tried to push down.
“You don’t have to knock.” The door opened, and she walked inside, pretending not to notice the heat in his eyes when he saw her lack of actual clothing.
“Would you come into my room without knocking?” she countered, hand on her cocked hip, trying to keep from smiling with little success.
“Absolutely not. It would be disrespectful and rude …” The moment it dawned on him, she broke out into an all-out smile. “Oh, I see what you did there.” He bopped her nose playfully. “Touché.”
She bowed, holding onto the silliness of the moment.
“What brings you into my lair?”
“Hey, I thought you were a lion and now you are getting all dragon on me? Which is it? Dragon? Lion?”
“Lion.” He was straight-faced, even though they both knew dragons weren’t real. Only his sparkling eyes gave away his true feelings “Although den doesn’t sound half as cool as lair.”
“True enough.”
“Would you like to see him?” His playfulness was gone in an instant, his tone serious with eyes to match. This was important to him.
Meemaw had told her shifters were a secretive bunch, kept that way, she had assumed, by shifter law. Standing here with Mateo told her a different story. It wasn’t law he was concerned with, it was acceptance. He wanted her to accept all of him, which she had thought she had conveyed the night before, but apparently missed the mark. “More than anything.” It was true. She did want to see his lion and had come close to asking him the night before. She’d chickened out every time. She didn’t want to be too pushy, to make him uncomfortable, to encourage him to break laws. Her internal excuses were endless. The truth of it though was her fear of his denial.
“You’re not afraid of him.” He wasn’t asking. He was telling her his observation, a spot-on observation.
“You’d never hurt me.”. Not physically anyway. He could easily crush her heart without meaning to. She had become far too attached, already, but in for a penny in for a pound.
“I couldn’t.” He reached up and cupped her cheek.
“I know. I can feel it.”
“In your gut?”
“In my gut.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips lightly against his.
The kiss the night before had been powerful, passionate, and filled with lust. This kiss was just as powerful and passionate, but so very different. A softer emotion took control now. Not love, for no one falls in love in a night, but something far too close to it for Crina not to flip out. She pulled back and landed on the balls of her feet, her fingers finding her lips of their own accord.
If he felt her near freakout, he didn’t let on. “We can go after breakfast.” He broke the spell, effectively pulling her from the train of thought she should not have been on, at least not then. “I know a place where it would be safe. Technically, I’m allowed to change in here, but I always feel bad for the housekeepers, even with ridiculous tips.”
A vision of a maid emptying a vacuum bag filled with lion hair seventeen times caught her off guard and tickled her funny bone. “Shedding?”
He nodded, sporting the mischievous grin she had come to crave.
“What do you mean allowed?”
“Someone from my clan owns the place, which is why we do business here. They understand sometimes you need to change in the city.”
“Yet you made Janis pay.”
“I didn’t do anything. She chose to stay here, instead of going home, to prove a point.”
The point being she was a bitch, but that was neither here nor there, or at least Crina tried to convince herself.
“Matthew, the owner, hates her, so rack rate it was. I pay, too. It’s only right to support my clan.”
Crina walked into Mateo’s chest, wrapping her arms around him. His arms found their way around her, and she heard him inhale deeply before relaxing. He needed the hug as badly as she did.
“It feels like I’m going to wake up and this will all be a dream.” She opened her mouth and out the confession fell. She was either ruining the rest of her time with him or making it a million times better. Either way, she knew Mateo well enough to trust she would have a warm bed to sleep in. She just wished he was in it with her.
“Do you always dream about fake boyfriends?”
“This doesn’t feel very fake to me.”
His arms tightened around her in acceptance. “That’s because it’s not.”
Her Snuggly Buggly Lion
Breakfast was pleasantly absent of both Janis and Damien. They had accidentally overslept according to Samuel and Betsy. Crina was sure overslept meant throwing a temper fit, but better they do it in their own rooms than during her meal and Mateo’s negotiations.
Crina also discovered over breakfast that negotiations were ninety-five percent political bologna topped with five percent discussion on land acquisition. Thankfully, the business façade was dropped quickly, freeing them to enjoy nice company with nice people. Scary people, but nice.
They ended their breakfast with an agreement to meet again in the evening at the older couple’s home just outside the city for a “small” party they were throwing in honor of the negotiations. She had a feeling it was more than just a social get-together and knew she needed to bring her A game. Mateo would protect her from the danger being in the middle of a lion clan might hold, but only she could protect herself from her lack of filter in large group settings—her nerves taking over where her brain should be.
The twenty minute ride to see Mateo’s lion had her practically buzzing. His little sports car held them in very close quarters, and it took most of her willpower not to be less than appropriate with her hands during the tri
p out. If it had been any longer, she would have given in to temptation and with her luck, caused an accident.
“Where are we?” she asked as they pulled onto a dirt road, more of a path than an actual road. If anyone came the other way, one of them would have to pull onto the grass.
“I told you, to see my lion.” They pulled to a stop in front of a shed that seemed to be just sitting there randomly.
“I kind of thought you would give me a bit more information than that.” She climbed out of the car, stepping carefully on the uneven ground in the direction of the shed.
Warm arms circled her from behind, and she leaned back, savoring the moment. “This is a hunting area my clan has access to.”
“Who owns it?” With the exception of the shed, which now made sense, given it was a place to hunt, it was breathtakingly beautiful and belonged on a postcard. The faint sound of a river and the rustling of the leaves spread such a calm over her.
“Wolves.”
“Wolves don’t mind you in their territory?” Crina might not know a great deal about shifters, but what she did know about wolves was that they were territorial and constantly fighting each other for rank.
“Oh, they mind, but that is neither here nor there. It is part of a century-old treaty, so here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“Are you sure you’re not scared?” He turned her in his arms until they were face to face, or more accurately, face to chest.
“Why would I be scared of you?” She reached up and rubbed his cheek gently with her fingers. “It’s not like you’re going to bite me.”
“No, my lily, I’m not going to bite you until you ask me to.” He leaned in close, and just before their lips met, his words registered.
She turned her head slightly, needing clarification before they continued. “Wait. What did you just say?”
“Sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Of course I’m not going to bite you here.” Mateo leaned in again, but she was having none of his distraction game. What he said was important. Her gut told her so.
“You made a vow, and now you’re being vague and about to get all hairy. It’s not the best combination.” Her frustration flew out of her mouth as she buried her head in his chest. It was such an odd sensation to be so frustrated at the same person you wanted to wrap yourself in to feel safe.
“Fair enough.” His finger lightly pressed in the bottom of her chin, encouraging her to look up at him. “I said I wouldn’t bite you unless you asked me to because I want to. Bite. You.”
“You want to eat me?” The words felt horribly wrong. Her worry that she had inadvertently hurt his feelings squashed at the smirk forming on his face.
“No. Not that way at least.” She gave him a smirk in return. He leaned in close to her ear. “I do want and feel the pull to bite you and make you mine, though.”
“Mine, as in a real girlfriend?” She so very much wanted that. More than anything.
“I thought we’d already established it was real.” He kissed the spot just below her ear and worked his way halfway down her neck before she found her voice.
“We did. I’m just flustered.” Her voice was heavy and sounded far less flustered than lust-filled. He had a way of doing that to her, and his kisses were far from helping.
“Mine, as in my mate.” He nestled his face in the crook of her neck, such an intimate gesture she almost begged him to bite her right then and there. “My lion and I want to claim you.”
“Claim me, as in like claim me claim me.”
Crina had heard very little about mates from Meemaw. Meemaw had been widowed young and never found another suitor to her liking, or so she liked to say. Crina knew otherwise after finding a picture after her meemaw was gone. Meemaw either had a shifter friend or a very large gorilla was loose in their backyard. Crina had the feeling that the gorilla was more than just passing through by the way he looked at her meemaw, then still young. If she were to guess, he was the reason Meemaw skimmed over the shifters, whereas she gave far too many details on the others.
“The kind of claiming that says I’m yours and you are mine for always, Crina. That’s what I want.”
She stiffened in his arms. Could he truly be saying what she thought he was saying? It was ridiculous; they’d only met the day before. Yet, it wasn’t ridiculous, it was something else entirely. It was right, and that was far more terrifying that a lion biting her or scratching her or whatever it is they did when attacking.
“Whoa, don’t start to do whatever it is you are doing.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms in a comforting motion. “I promise you, it will be in your time, if ever. I know who my lion picks, and since he and I are in agreement, I have decided to woo you properly.”
“Which is why you left me at the door last night.” He was wooing her, not questioning should he or shouldn’t he. Not giving her a pass. Not leaving for fear she was a stage one clinger. No, he left to be a gentleman because she was becoming important to him. Rejection had never felt so welcome and loving before.
“Which is why I left you at the door last night.” He confirmed her conclusions. “Did you think that was easy? I wanted to carry you into my room and keep you up all night long.”
A moan escaped her at the picture he painted. That was the evening she’d had in mind as well. At least one of them had their wits about them.
“Is your lion why I want to rub you all the time?” She leaned over and rubbed him as if to give an example, but it was because she needed to. They were so close together yet so far away, and it was driving her bonkers.
“Yes. No. Sort of. It’s complicated.” She rubbed against him again, savoring the feel of the stubble just beginning to grow. “Yes, my lion pushes me to mark you in that way since I’m not allowing him to mark you in the way he actually wants.”
Crina hadn’t thought of it as a marking. She had missed more clues about his animal than she should have. Her gut told her to trust, and she did, leading her to be far less observant than she needed to be.
“Why you are feeling the push as well—mind you this is only conjecture, but I think it has to do with your Gypsy blood.”
“Gypsies aren’t cats, I don’t think.” Or any animal, really, or all of them, depending on the lore. Her heritage was one with an oral tradition, and since her family had stopped roaming, they lost the collective memory of the group. Little pieces of her history were lost with each generation, especially with her mother passing so young. Try as she may, Crina could not pull the story of the animals from her memory. It had something to do with being all yet none and it had made no sense at the time, so she’d thrown it in the back of her memory vault and forgotten about it.
“No, but you hold a magic in you.” That was true, and her magic was strong. She couldn’t readily access it like the witches did, but it was there in a low hum. Her mother had told her, in one of the last memories Crina had of her, that her magic would be there when she needed and not before, so Crina just left it alone. She had never even asked Meemaw about it. It was just a part of her, like her leg or kidney.
“You’re the only people who can be turned into a shifter by their mate.”
Turned into a shifter by their mate. If he bit her, she would get all hairy? Did she want to get all fangs and fur? Would it drain her magic to do so? Did she care? All the questions swirled in her head. The only things keeping her grounded were Mateo’s hands on hers.
She reached up and started opening his shirt, one button at a time.
“What are you doing?” His worry was mixed with sensuality, and the flurry of questions in her head became more of a tornado than a whimsical frolic.
“Getting you naked.” She pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, yet it failed to fall to the floor, his hands staying firmly on her arms.
“Why?” The heavy air from yesterday returned full throttle.
“You just told me you want to make me your mate, and then you tell me that if you do, I have the potential
to become a shifter, too”—grasped the button of his slacks—“and it’s all too much. Seeing you all furry and fangy will be much easier to process.”
“You do realize you sound insane.” He stopped her fingers by intertwining them with his, his attempt to lighten the atmosphere failed miserably in the thick atmosphere. He needed to lion out now so she could think. So she could know this was all real. So she could stop the need to touch him from interrupting her every rational reaction.
“You do realize a woman you sort of-kind of asked to be your mate is taking off your clothes, and you are arguing with her?”
“Fine, strip me naked, fair lady.” Releasing her hand in concession, he encouraged her return to her task with a wink. “One thing before I change,” he added as he stepped out of his pants and boxers which were currently sitting at his ankles. “Do not give me your neck. He will think you are offering, and even though I am still present, I don’t have all of the control I do as a human.”
“Mmmm, okay.” She was too distracted by the Adonis before her to even fully take in the meaning of what he had just said. How did she get so lucky?
“Promise.” His tilted her chin up to his face.
“I promise.”
Mateo walked a few feet away before looking over his shoulder and calling out, “And don’t run. I love a chase, and it would end in the same result as baring your neck.”
With that, he took a leap and, in the blink of an eye, went from her sex-on-a-stick boyfriend to a ginormous hunting machine. She was stunned by the magnificence of his animal. He crept closer, at a snail’s pace, until she took a step in his direction. He must have taken it as a sign because he was licking her face only moments later.
“Silly lion, you’re tickling me.” He gave her one final lick before sitting in front of her, his eyes still even with hers. She let her hand settle in his mane, giving him a scratch, and was rewarded with a purr. “You like that, don’t you?” By way of response, he purred louder before lying on the ground. Crina took it as an invitation and snuggled into his side.
