by Sophie Stern
“Good. Happy. Tired.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too. I’m still a little emotionally exhausted over talking with Richard.” After I showed up at her place, Richard helped us load everything into the truck. He and Mia chatted all morning, but he was pretty good about keeping his inner psychiatrist in check.
There were only a couple of times when she had to stop him from analyzing her behavior, but aside from that, the morning was productive and everyone got along.
Something has been bugging me about Richard. The way he talked about Honeypot and relationships seems a little too personal for me. I understand he’s been counseling people here for awhile, but he knows the inner workings of our community and our people so well that I wonder if he has a deeper motivation to move to Honeypot. Is he dating someone? Is he mated to a shifter? At some point, I’ll bring it up to Mia, but tonight isn’t the right time.
And to be honest, Richard’s dating proclivities are none of my business. If he’s fallen in love with a shifter, then, well, good for him.
Tonight I have a little human of my own to take care of and I plan to ravish her like there’s no tomorrow.
With a kiss, I sweep Mia into my arms and carry her upstairs.
“Where are we off to, my sweet polar bear?” She asks with a smile, cupping my face. My five o’clock shadow must feel bristly and rough against her soft hands, but Mia doesn’t complain. She just leans against me and lets me carry her upstairs.
This is one of my favorite things about Mia.
I remember being a little cub and watching my dad with Katherine. He always made her laugh and giggle and even as a little kid, I knew that was how a husband was supposed to be. You’re supposed to make your mate smile. You’re supposed to make them happy.
There’s so much sadness and hurt in the world already. Why would you want to do anything to make your mate feel even more down? Mia and I haven’t known each other – really known each other – for long. Already, though, I know I would never do anything to make her sad.
Her being pregnant scares me because I know that at some point, I’m going to make her cry. At some point I’m going to hurt her feelings inadvertently or I’m going to say the wrong thing or I’m going to shove my foot in my mouth somehow, and it’s going to hurt her.
Our doctor warned me and so did Richard, but the realization makes me terrified. I’m going to do everything in my power to be supportive and encouraging during her pregnancy. Mia has given me everything I’ve ever wanted and more. She’s perfect.
“The bedroom, my sweet human,” I say in response. She laughs again and kisses me. Then kisses me more and more and more.
I drop her down in the upstairs hallway, unable to keep walking with her pawing all over me. I press her against the wall and use my foot to push her legs apart. My leg fits between hers and she humps me, rubbing herself against my leg as I kiss her there, pressed against the wall.
“Fuck,” she murmurs, and bites my bottom lip.
“You like that, baby?” She nods, and keeps grinding against me. I bite her neck and pull her hair, happy to give her a little tease as we play. One thing is for certain: Mia is going to keep me coming back for more and more and more.
She pushes back against me, forcing me against the opposite wall. Now it’s her turn to climb all over me, touch my body, run her hands over me.
“We aren’t going to make it to the bedroom,” she whispers. Then she drops to her knees, taking my pants with her. My cock springs out and she slides her tongue over it, kissing and licking.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan, grabbing her hair. I pull her closer to myself and she giggles, then sucks my dick. Mia has got the best fucking mouth. Her technique is awesome, but more than that, she’s enthusiastic. I love how into sex she is. I love how she enjoys giving and receiving pleasure. She’s not uptight or scared or nervous or insecure. She just enjoys herself and has a good time.
I don’t want to come in her mouth, but if she keeps it up, I’m going to. Reluctantly, I pull her away and raise her up. She comes in for a kiss and I stroke her shoulders for a moment, enjoying the feel of her body, enjoying her touch.
“More,” she whispers.
“Yes,” I agree.
We manage to get our clothes off and stumble to the floor together. I lay her out and fucking ravish her body. I start at her neck and move down until I’m between her legs. She tastes like brown sugar cinnamon. She tastes like heaven.
I bring Mia to orgasm with my tongue, then slide up her body until I’m hovering above her. Then my cock glides inside of her, deep into her tight, wet pussy.
“I love you,” I whisper to her.
“I love you, too,” she says.
“Marry me,” I can’t go another day not knowing she’ll be mine, not knowing she’ll be my mate. I need to know I’m going to go through life with Mia by my side. I need to know I’m going to get to spend the rest of my life making this woman happy.
“Of course,” she whispers, and she smiles at me. That smile warms my whole heart. That smile makes me know everything is going to be just fine.
“You make me so happy,” I tell her.
“You make me happy, too, Aidan. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“I feel like that all the time.”
It’s not the best dirty talk. It’s the sweetest, most romantic sex we’ve ever had, but somehow, it’s perfect in its own way. Mia is going to marry her polar bear and I’m going to marry my human. Our relationship wasn’t what either of us expected, but it’s what we both need.
It’s everything we’ve ever dreamed of.
We complete each other.
We both come, tangled in our embrace in the middle off the hallway floor. We lay together for a long time after, just touching each other, just quietly thinking.
“Did you mean what you said?” She whispers.
“I’ve never meant anything more.”
“I love you, Aidan. I didn’t expect to be a mother, but I’m so glad we’re having this baby together. I’m glad it’s with you.”
“I’m glad it’s with you, too,” I kiss her forehead.
For a bear who didn’t believe in soul mates until recently, things are looking up. I have everything I’ve ever wanted, ever needed, ever dreamed of.
And Mia and I are going to have a baby.
Our little family is complete.
Epilogue
Mia
Seven Months Later
“It’s a girl!” The doctor says. His words are followed by the sound of crying, and I realize this is it. My daughter is here. She’s finally here.
After a quick, but wonderful wedding and several months of extreme emotional rollercoaster rides, she’s here.
My sweet baby is here.
“I knew it!” A voice cries from beside me and Richard squeezes my hand. Yeah, my brother helped me through my labor. It’s weird, but he was basically the best doula I could ever have asked for. All those counseling techniques and having people talk about their feelings? They totally work when you’re trying to birth a tiny shifter.
“Congratulations,” the doctor says, and he places my baby on my chest. I reach for her and touch her, barely believing the moment is finally here. My sweetie is here.
“She’s beautiful,” Aidan says from my opposite side, and I look up into my mate’s eyes, my husband’s eyes.
“We did it,” I say.
“You did it,” he corrects.
“I couldn’t have, not without you.” Damn. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. I promised myself over and over again during the entire pregnancy. I said I wouldn’t cry. Then what am I doing? Crying.
As I look at my sweet little baby, I take in everything about her. She’s got soft skin and a mop of white-blonde hair, like Aidan. She’s going to look like him. She’s going to look like her daddy. Somehow, this pleases me more than if she’d come out looking like a carbon copy of me.
“She’s beau
tiful,” Aidan murmurs, gently rubbing her back. Our daughter stops crying at the touch and immediately relaxes.
“She’s perfect.”
“What name did you decide?” Richard asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Katie,” I say. “After Aidan’s stepmother.”
“She’s going to be thrilled,” Richard says, his eyes tearing just a little. If I didn’t know better, I’d say my big brother was turning into quite the softie. “I’ll go tell everyone,” he says, then slips out the door. We have a group of fans waiting in the labor and delivery waiting room down the hall. Aidan’s parents, his brother, and even Selena, the waitress from Bumble’s Diner, came to show their support.
He leaves, and even though the doctors and nurses are moving around us, making sure I’m okay, making sure Katie is fine, all I can see is Aidan.
All I can see is our family.
We made it. We made it and we have a baby girl. Our relationship may have started off wrong. Most people agree it’s best to date for a few years before deciding you want to get married and then having babies. Most people want to be older, more mature, more stable.
Somehow, we did everything backward and it all turned out okay.
“I love you,” Aidan whispers. He cups my cheek and leans down, planting a soft, gentle kiss on my mouth.
“I love you, too, bear,” I whisper.
He’s my everything: now and forever.
THE END
If you enjoyed this Honeypot story, you can read Selena’s story in The Jaguar’s Baby.
About the Author
Sophie Stern writes paranormal romance and contemporary erotica for readers who like to have fun and explore new worlds. When she’s not busy writing, you can find her pole dancing or reading zombie novels. Sophie lives with her ex-military husband who is always happy to help her conduct research for her books.
Find out more or at www.sexysophiestern.com or join her mailing list to receive updates and information on sales.
Honeypot Darlings
Want more Honeypot?
I have another series called Honeypot Darlings featuring the three Blair brothers.
Wyatt, Carter, and Micah are all different in their own ways, but they each share one very important similarity: they’re all bear shifters!
In The Bear’s Virgin Darling, Hope moves to Honeypot for a fresh start. She doesn’t expect anything, but a paycheck. Then she meets Wyatt and everything changes.
Here you can read the first three chapters of this book for free! If you prefer to jump right into the novel, you can get your own copy on Amazon here.
***
Chapter 1
Hope
Hope.
That’s my name.
My parents struggled for years to have a baby and then finally, they had me. They named me Hope to remind themselves that things can always get better. No matter how tough life gets, there’s always a way to make things better.
Always.
It doesn’t matter if you’re old or young or skilled or uneducated. No matter what you’re going through, you can get through it.
As I grip the steering wheel of my beat-up Saturn so hard I think my hands might bleed, their words run through my mind.
“Sorry, Mama,” I whisper. “There’s no hope this time.”
The highway is empty and I’ve been driving for hours. I still have at least two to go until I reach beautiful, isolated, far-from-home Honeypot, Colorado.
I don’t know a damn thing about the town except that it’s a 12-hour drive from my rink-a-dink hometown in Missouri and that I have a job interview with some ranch.
Like I know anything about ranching.
That doesn’t matter though. I learned this great skill in drama class called “fake it ‘til you make it,” and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
Holbrook can kiss my ass and so can Jacob Clint. Did he really think I wouldn’t find out he was fucking my best friend?
Did she?
It’s been a month since I caught them fooling around, but the pain hasn’t dimmed. It took me a whole month to sell my stuff, give my landlord ample notice I was leaving, and set up this damn job interview.
I applied for a few gigs closer to home, but when I saw the posting for a ranch hand in Colorado, I couldn’t resist applying. I’m still shocked they liked my application. I’m still shocked they called me.
Granted, I could show up tomorrow and they might tell me to get lost, but it’s something new, something different, something brave.
It’s something to keep my mind off how badly my heart hurts.
I hope Jacob and Margaret are very happy together in hell.
I press the gas pedal a little bit harder.
I can’t wait to get to Nowhere, Colorado. Not too much further now. I blast my music and stare out the window, driving with one hand down the highway. My car is loaded with my life’s belongings. I sure as hell hope I get the job because if I don’t, I’m going to be stuck in Colorado with no house, no job, and no boyfriend.
Soon my stomach growls and I stop for a quick burger at a fast food place just off the highway. The only two things at the exit are a gas station and a fast food chain, so I eat my run-of-the-mill burger in silence, stretch my legs, and fill up the tank. My thoughts alternate between being horrified Jacob was the best I could do and being horrified that I won’t get the job.
I need the job.
Unfortunately, my thoughts are so focused that I don’t realize when the speed limit drops from 75 to 55 just outside of Honeypot. The sirens in the rearview mirror give me the notice and I growl in frustration as I pull over.
Dammit.
A ticket is not what I need right now. I barely have enough money saved for a hotel room while I’m in Honeypot. If I don’t get the job, or if I have a bunch of unexpected expenses, I will definitely be living out of my car.
This is a problem because my car is full of clothes, books, and trinkets I couldn’t leave behind.
Taking a deep breath, I place my hands on the steering wheel and wait for the officer to run my plates. I’ve never had a ticket before, but I’ve been pulled over, and I remember the cop explaining that he had to call in the license plate before he even came to speak with me.
After a few minutes, my heart finally begins to slow, and I realize that this was just an honest mistake. Besides, getting a ticket isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a girl like me. By the time the officer gets out of his car and walks toward mine, I’ve convinced myself that I’ll handle this like an adult.
I definitely will not cry in front of this stranger. Maybe I’ve been through a lot, but crying in front of strangers is definitely a hard limit for me. Unfortunately, as I begin to roll my window down – yes, my car is so old that I have to roll the window down – I catch a glimpse of the cop and he’s no tubby police officer.
No, this guy is tall, cut, and fit to be tied.
Dammit.
My mouth goes dry when he approaches and I’m very aware of the fact that I’ve been in a car all day and probably smell like stale French fries.
“Hello, ma’am,” the officer greets me, standing outside my window. He places one hand on top of my car and peers in the window at me. I swallow loudly as I stare at his aviators.
He’s so tall he almost has to bend in half to peek into my car. Suddenly, I wish I was wearing a low-cut shirt to give him a show. He smiles brightly, his perfectly white teeth shining in the evening sunset. And oh, is he filling out that uniform in all the right places.
“Fuck me,” I say out loud, and I immediately cover my mouth with my hand and start shaking my head. Shit! Shit. Shit. Shit. I did not mean to say that out loud. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, and look away, completely embarrassed. I can’t believe I just said that to a stranger.
To my surprise, the police officer doesn’t get upset, though. He just chuckles.
“New to the area?” He says, and I nod, but don’t say anything. “Well, do you know wh
y I pulled you over?”
This is the part where I feign innocence. This is the part where I cry damsel, where I say that I just got out of a bad relationship and I’m trying to get a fresh start. This is the part where I say I didn’t know any better, where I missed the sign.
Only when he lowers his glasses and I see his deep brown eyes, I know I can’t lie to this cop.
Something tells me he’ll know whether I’m telling the truth or not.
Something tells me he doesn’t do lies.
“I was speeding,” I blurt out, and again, cover my mouth. What is with my bluntness around this guy?
He nods, and asks for my registration and driver’s license. I hand both over to him, cringing the entire time. He flips over my license and eyes my registration, then he asks me the question I’ve been dreading.
“And where are you headed, ma’am?”
I point to the exit that’s just up ahead, number 234.
“Honeypot,” I say. “I have a job interview tomorrow.”
“Is that so, miss?” He looks surprised, and I wonder why. I’m guessing not too many new people come to Honeypot. It’s basically in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by dense forests. The last exit was about ten miles back, so I’d say it’s pretty isolated.
“It’s not full of murderers, is it?” I ask him on a whim, wondering what secrets I’ll discover in the tiny town. “Because if you say it is, I’ll turn right on back around.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No murderers. No need to worry about that. Now, you just hold tight.” He heads back to his car and does something. I sit still, not bothering to play with my phone or pretend to listen to music. I don’t have anyone to text and I doubt I get cell service out here, anyway.
