Cosmic Trifecta

by Anna Lewis

  He shook then, and she could feel the tremors of his pleasure pass through him into her own body. They were together now, Cherise and Lynx, clinging to one another, riding this wave of desire and pleasure entwined as one being, one body.

  Cherise drove her hips back, taking him as far inside her as she could. Lynx’s hands tightened on her hips, fingertips digging into her, bruising her soft flesh as he cried out in pleasure as his orgasm exploded into her. Cherise trembled once, then followed suit, pressing her face into the mattress as Lynx towered behind her, pulling her to him so they could ride out their shared orgasm together.

  Later, after a shower and a change of sheets, they were curled together on Cherise’s bed, Lynx’s large body wrapped protectively around Cherise’s petite form.

  “I’m so glad you found me,” Cherise whispered, pulling Lynx’s strong arms more tightly around her.

  Lynx pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Cherise thought she could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. “I’ll always find you, Cherise. Always.”

  She knew he meant it.

  THE END

  = Bonus Book 10 of 20 =

  Two Wolves of Winter’s Lake -

  Shifter Menage

  The thing that Lara Forbes loved most about visiting her family’s cabin in Winter’s Lake, Colorado, wasn’t the peace and quiet, or the abundant wildlife, or even the majestic view of the Rocky Mountains. No, the thing that Lara liked best about Winter’s Lake was the absolute, utter lack of cell phone service.

  After the last forty-eight hours, she never wanted to use her phone again.

  Lara could feel the tension drain out of her shoulders the very moment her little Honda Civic crested the Continental Divide and the bars on her phone completely disappeared. She would be staying up in Winter’s Lake for at least a week, maybe more, and was overjoyed at the prospect of being cut off from the outside world.

  The day was overcast and the forest dark as Lara drove the last winding stretch of highway down into the small mountain town of Winter’s Lake. It was late September and the wind had a sharp bite. Autumn always came more quickly to the mountains, something Lara always managed to forget. When she was a little girl, her parents would always remember to pack her warm clothing and make sure she was bundled up properly for the mountain weather, but Lara had trouble remember to do such adult things on her own. It was always hard to imagine that a bright sunny day in the mountains could quickly turn into a freezing cold night.

  Of course, Lara was a bit out of practice packing for mountain weather. She hadn’t been up to the cabin since her parents had passed away almost five years ago. A rental agency had been happy to take care of it, and Lara was more than happy to allow them to manage the property… and send her the checks.

  She vaguely wondered what the property looked like. Was that ugly green plaid sofa still in front of the fireplace? Was the wreath of antlers still hanging on the wall near the door? Did her old room still have bunk beds or had the management company replaced them with a more renter-friendly full or queen?

  As she steered the car down the winding driveway and the house came into view, Lara found the sight to be refreshingly familiar: same rickety wooden porch with sagging Adirondack chairs, same crooked stone chimney, same gnarled pine tree looming over the north side of the house.

  What was not the same, however, was the rusted brown jeep parked under the pine tree and the tall, muscular man perched on the roof, his sandy hair falling over his face as he bent to align his hammer with a nail.

  No, the last time Lara had been up to the cabin, there definitely hadn’t been a handsome man in the mix. If this is an added perk from the property management company, Lara thought, then I am definitely on board.

  The tires of Lara’s car crunched on the gravel driveway and the man looked up, his hair falling away to reveal a finely chiseled face. He squinted at the car for a moment, and then broke into a smile and a wave.

  Lara waved back as she pulled her car alongside the Jeep.

  “Hi there,” she shouted, stepping out of the car and letting the door slam behind her.

  “Afternoon,” the man shouted back at her, still smiling. He looked around for a moment, appearing almost puzzled and it took Lara a couple of moments to understand why. There was no ladder near the roof.

  “Do you need help–?” she began, but the man was in motion before she finished her sentence. With one quick leap, he launched himself off the roof, into the twisted old pine and clambered swiftly down the trunk.

  “Wow, that’s something you don’t see in LA,” Lara muttered to herself. Los Angeles had its share of diversity and eccentricity, but Lara had never before witnessed an honest-to-god, tree scaling mountain man.

  The man landed lightly on the ground, soft puffs of dirt rising around his worn brown leather work boots, and he strode towards Lara, hand outstretched and a friendly grin spread across his handsome face.

  “You must be Ms. Forbes,” he said, his grin widening. “We always thought you were a myth around these parts.”

  Lara placed her small hand in his large, calloused one and was greeted with a hearty handshake. Yet another difference from LA, where formal introductions seemed to involve either a disinterested nod or a falsely enthusiastic hug. Genuine handshakes were about as rare as finding a man on your roof.

  Winter’s Lake was already proving to be a refreshing change, and she’d only been within town limits for approximately five minutes.

  “Hi,” Lara answered back, hoping her smile was as genuine as the man’s. “I am Lara Forbes, and I do actually exist.”

  “Wow, looks like I lost a bet back at the office,” he replied.

  “You bet that I didn’t exist?” Lara asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “Nah,” the man replied, “I bet that you wouldn’t be this pretty.” His soft brown eyes widened as the words left his mouth. “Ah, that came out wrong—” The man tried to explain, but Lara just laughed.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. “I get it. Single lady owns an old family cabin deep in the woods, everyone expects her to be a spinster or a cat lady.”

  The man shrugged and scratched the base of his neck with one rough hand. “Okay, this is not going the way I’d hoped.” He paused, then reached his hand out again. “Killian Donaldson,” he said, more formally than before. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Forbes.”

  “It’s Lara, just Lara,” she said, returning the handshake yet again. It was as firm as the first one. Lara would be fine if they entered into an endless loop of introductions and handshakes, provided that meant she could keep touching Killian’s strong hand.

  Bret had hands like cold, dead fish, she thought, then banished the thought from her mind. The entire point of this trip was to forget Bret. She couldn’t let him ruin this nice moment with the handsome tree man, she wouldn’t.

  Killian was talking again and Lara gratefully let her attention wander away from her absent boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) and back to the present.

  “So, Lara, how long has it been since you’ve been up to Winter’s Lake?” Killian asked as he popped her trunk and began removing her luggage.

  “Oh, god, I’m not even sure,” she said. “It’s been ages, I think. Five, maybe ten years? You don’t need to get my bags, actually—”

  Killian’s eyebrows shot up. “Sorry, Ms. Forbes—Lara. I can’t stand around and let a lady unload her own luggage. That would be terribly rude of me.”

  Another difference from LA, where Lara had almost been run over in a grocery store parking lot by a man who’d been too busy texting and pushing his shopping cart to notice Lara struggling to load a case of sparkling water into her trunk. To be honest, that man was Lara’s terrible boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?). To be even more honest, he’d snapped at Lara for getting in his way. She truly had no idea what she saw in Bret. At least now she wouldn’t see him for a week, maybe more. Maybe forever.

  “I can at least grab a few things,” Lara insisted
, snagging an overnight bag that was perched precariously on top of the pile of luggage in Killian’s arms. Lara was duly impressed by his ability to manage an entire trunkful of bags and suitcases in one armful.

  “All right, I think I can allow that,” Killian said, voice muffled by the stack of Lara’s possessions blocking his face.

  After they’d loaded Lara’s things into the cabin, Killian insisted on giving her a guided tour. “You haven’t been here in ages,” he explained. “I want to make sure you’ve got a good lay of the land.”

  He extended his arm chivalrously, and Lara took it by the crook of his elbow. “Lead on, then.”

  The cabin had, for the most part, remained unchanged from what Lara remembered from her childhood. The ugly green sofa was still there, as was the antler wreath on the wall. The bunk bed had been replaced, as she’d expected, by a large queen sized bed, and the kitchen had new, stainless steel appliances.

  There were also thick metal bars over all the windows. Lara did not remember that.

  “There’s been some aggressive wildlife in the area,” Killian explained, brown eyes darting away from Lara. “It’s not a big deal, most of the cabins up here have protective covering on the windows.”

  Protective covering?

  Killian must have noticed Lara’s worried expression, because he moved his arm up and wrapped it around her narrow shoulders. “It’s nothing to worry about, Lara, I promise. Just better safe than sorry, right?”

  She nodded, enjoying his arm around her shoulder a bit more than she should. “Better safe than sorry. Exactly.”

  Killian led her outside to finish the rest of the tour. The cabin was simple: two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom and a kitchen. Outside, there was a hammock strung between two pine trees, a fire pit and a picnic table. The area immediately surrounding the cabin—it couldn’t really be called a “yard”—was cleared into a little open space, but the woods loomed densely at the edge of the clearing.

  “There’s a cabin just up the road there,” Killian pointed back the way Lara had come, “but it’s empty for the season. If you need anything, you just call me, okay?”

  “My phone doesn’t work up here,” Lara explained.

  “Cabin’s got a landline,” Killian said, laughing. “I know, seems like an ancient relic, but that’s all we can use up here.”

  Lara nodded.

  “My number’s written up there by the phone,” he continued. “Don’t hesitate to call.” His eyes flicked through the dark woods. “I mean it, Lara, you call me anytime.”

  “I will,” Lara said, a little worried by his concern. “I’ll call.”

  “Okay, good,” Killian smiled again. Lara was beginning to love that charming, toothy grin. “Hey, I didn’t unload any groceries, did I?”

  “Oof, no,” Lara shrugged. “I was in such a big hurry to get out of LA that I didn’t exactly stop and pick up provisions.”

  “Well, the market’s closed,” Killian said, checking his watch. “Everything in town pretty much closes down early on Sunday. The restaurant’s open, though. I’m grabbing dinner there tonight, and you’re welcome to join me.”

  Lara smiled. “Sure, I’d love to. Which restaurant?”

  “The restaurant, Lara, it’s called ‘Dusty’s,’” Killian explained. “We’ve only got one.”

  Okay. Yet another big difference from LA, which had trendy bistros and dozens of food trucks crammed into every city block.

  “All right, well. I guess I’ll meet you at the restaurant in a little bit. Seven?” Lara said.

  “Seven sounds good,” Killian replied, hopping into his battered Jeep. “See you there.”

  “See you there,” Lara said, waving as he pulled down the driveway.

  As the sound of Killian’s tires faded down the gravel path, the silence of the forest descended on Lara. A bird chirped. Insects buzzed. Winds whistled through the thick pine trees.

  Lara exhaled, and collapsed shakily into one of the wooden chairs on the porch. Thank god for peace and quiet.

  * * *

  Lara decided to walk in to the restaurant for dinner. The town of Winter’s Lake was only about a mile or so from her cabin via the rutted, bumpy country road, and the walk was even shorter. If she took the path along the lakeshore that wound through the woods, it was only about three quarters of a mile.

  The fall wind tugged at Lara’s short blond bob and whipped strands of carefully highlighted hair across her face. She let her hair be messy, enjoying the freedom to not be perfect for a moment. LA was hundreds of miles away and, if she was being honest, Lara had never felt better.

  Her booted feet crushed the red autumn leaves that lined the path. The boots had already been at the cabin, a throwback from her younger days when her feet had been the same size but her spirit had been more outdoorsy and carefree.

  Young, twenty-something Lara had loved to run around these hills, climbing trees and wading in the lake. Older, thirty-five year old Lara rarely even looked up from her phone as she crossed busy city intersections. Did her street in LA have trees? She couldn’t remember. Bret paid a gardener, but Lara wasn’t exactly sure what for. Did they even have flowers?

  Lara took a deep breath and tried to remember her yard back home in Los Angeles. She couldn’t. There was a terra cotta path that led up from the street and she vaguely remembered some bushes. The house was Bret’s and she’d lived there for years, but she had never really made her mark on the place. He’d picked out the furniture long before she’d moved in and her belongings were primarily confined to a closet upstairs and one corner of the small home office.

  Once she’d asked if they could think about replacing the old, obnoxiously masculine black leather sofas, and Bret had nearly bitten her head off. She should have known they weren’t meant to last.

  Lara and Bret had been dating since college and, frankly, she’d always been surprised that he’d stuck with her for so long. Bret was ambitious—he was an entertainment lawyer and had been slaving away to build his practice almost the entire time she’d known him—and Lara always thought that he’d leave her for an actress or singer.

  She had no idea what he saw in her, a quiet art major turned wedding photographer. Lara was pretty, Lara was nice, but Lara always expected Bret to cheat on her with someone more glamorous.

  Lara was right.

  The woods teemed with life around her. A rabbit hopped down the path. Lara exhaled, still shaking with the anger and surprise of the discovery of Bret’s infidelity. It had only been two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

  She’d gotten a surprisingly romantic text from Bret early Friday afternoon. I can’t wait to see you tonight, he’d written. Pull your panties off, turn you around and do you across the kitchen counter.

  Lara had been impressed and a little confused. She didn’t think they had plans that night. Bret had grown so distant lately, it was a pleasant surprise to get something so sexy from him. Then the next text had pinged in. I’m telling L that I’m working late. Shhhh. Can’t wait to see you, baby.

  She had calmly set her phone down on the kitchen counter and promptly burst into years. When Bret arrived home a few hours later, her things were packed and her Honda was loaded.

  He’d been painfully nonchalant about the whole thing. “Oh, you found out about Kate, huh?” he’d said, staring at her without even removing his mirrored sunglasses. “I guess it’s probably time for you and I to take a break. I mean, we’ve been together forever.”

  A break? Lara stomped through the woods, crushing leaves and snapping twigs. A break?! She had given him the last fifteen years of her life, devoted everything to their relationship, and all he could say was “It’s time for you and I to take a break?”

  When they’d graduated from college and she’d followed him to LA so he could go to law school, he’d promised that they’d get engaged as soon as possible. When she worked her ass off to pay their rent while he was a student, he swore that, as soon as he had enough mone
y for a ring, they’d make it official. When he was brought on as a junior partner at his firm, he said that he’d propose as soon as he was made a partner. He’d been a partner for five years now.

  Every time she brought up the idea of getting married, he’d always promised that he’d do it soon, that he wanted to make it special. That was ages ago and there was still no ring on her finger.

  And there probably never would be, considering that he was a lying, cheating, dismissive bastard.

  Lara sighed, her sad exhalation echoing through the empty woods. It was a lonely sound, longing and sadness reverberating through the silent trees.

  Silence. Lara froze. She’d played in these woods throughout her whole childhood and had never known them to be silent. They were often quiet, but there was always something—the chattering of birds, the scuffling of squirrels, buzzing of insects—to fill the forest air.

  But now there was nothing. It was as if the entire forest had gone on lockdown.

  “Hello?” Lara called, feeling silly and then feeling ashamed of feeling silly. If there was someone there, they’d understand why she’d shouted. If there wasn’t anyone there, then there would be no one to judge her. However, if there wasn’t someone but something out in the woods, maybe the sound of her voice would scare it away.

  A twig snapped behind her and Lara whirled around.

  There was nothing.

  A twig snapped again, this time on the other side of the path. Lara wheeled back and, this time, there was someone there.

  A broad-shouldered, black haired man stood just off the path, looming over Lara. Hours ago, she’d thought Killian was the largest man she’d ever seen up close, but this man’s sheer size and bulk dwarfed him. There was something about this man that reminded Lara of her property manager: maybe it was the way his taut muscles pushed the limits of his red plaid shirt; maybe it was the similarity of his rough hewn features; perhaps it was something hungry twinkling down in the depths of his ice blue eyes.