North Star Shifters: The Complete Series

by Roxie Noir

  “Settle in, buddy,” the cab driver said. “It’s rush hour.”

  The cab ride felt worse to Jake than the plane flight, knowing he was so much closer to her, and yet moving so slowly across this labyrinthine city. The ride cost him almost a hundred bucks, nearly everything he had in his wallet, but it led to her door.

  He got out. The cab drove off. He looked again at her address: #2.

  Jake walked up a staircase on the side of her building, trying to walk as quietly as possible. It was after dark, and he didn’t want her to think he was a robber.

  He knocked on her door, three times, loud, heavy knocks.

  Chapter Nine

  The pint of ice cream was empty, the chocolate was all gone. Normally, Ariana would have rolled her eyes at what a cliche she was, but she just didn’t care today. She’d had to leave the man she loved — desperately, whole-heartedly — behind, and she was going to eat all the goddamn ice cream she wanted.

  The episode of Friends she was watching ended, and the next one began, automatically. Then the text popped up on the screen, courtesy of Netflix: Are You Still Watching Friends?

  “Yes,” she muttered to herself, pushing the button on her remote. The theme song came on.

  Then, someone knocked on her door. Ariana looked down at herself.

  “Fuck,” she muttered. After the plane ride she’d put on pajama pants and an old sweatshirt. That had been about ten hours ago, and she hadn’t bothered to change since then.

  Well, whatever. She didn’t care who saw her like this right now. It was probably just the UPS guy with a package or something, and she was sure he saw worse every day.

  The knock sounded again, and she got up from the couch.

  “Coming,” she called, and pulled her front door open.

  Jake stood there, filling her doorframe. Ariana clapped both hands to her mouth.

  Joy flooded through her, followed quickly by terror. What was he doing here? She’d come back to Boston to save him, not so he could follow her and get himself killed!

  “You can’t be here,” she blurted out.

  Jake took a deep breath. “I understand if you don’t want me any more, but I had to see you one last time.”

  She blinked in confused. That wasn’t what this was about.

  “They said they’d kill you,” she said. Tears formed in her eyes, and she started to get choked up. “She told me — she said if we were ever together again, they were going to kill you because there was one of you and three of them...”

  “Shh,” said Jake. He smiled, and right away, Ariana felt a little bit better. He put his hand on the side of her face, and she leaned into his touch. It had only been a day, but she’d missed him so much...

  “I took care of it,” Jake said. “They’re not going to bother us anymore.”

  “Really?” Ariana whispered, her eyes bright with tears.

  “Really,” said Jake, and he bent down to kiss her.

  Ariana had thought she might never get to kiss him, but here he was, in her apartment, in Boston. She kissed him greedily, wanting to never let him go again. Her lips moved against his, and everything felt right with the world.

  She wanted him. She needed him.

  He broke away from her, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding, and she realized that he was still standing in the doorway, the door open to the chilly Boston night. With both hands, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, drawing him to her. For a moment she remembered what she was wearing, but then she decided that if he didn’t care, she didn’t.

  Jake kicked the door closed with one foot, bending down to kiss Ariana again, her lips soft and yielding beneath his. She put one arm around his neck and the other around the back of his head, pressing his face to hers.

  “I thought they’d taken you,” he said, his lips still grazing hers. “I thought you were dead.”

  Ariana kissed him desperately, her tongue questing through his mouth.

  “They said they’d kill you,” she said, between gasps for air. “She said they’d kill you if I didn’t leave, and that—“ Ariana broke off.

  Jake bent down and began planting kisses down her neck, brushing against he crewneck of her sweatshirt. “And what?” he said.

  “She said I’d never be enough for you because I’m not a shifter,” Ariana blurted, fast, all in one breath.

  Jake held her face in his hands, looking down at her, very seriously. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

  “That’s utterly wrong,” he said. “You’re everything I could ever want.”

  A tear rolled down Ariana’s face. Jake bent down, tenderly, and kissed it away.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you too,” he whispered back. Their lips met one more time, a little harder than before, and all at once Ariana felt a deep need spreading throughout her.

  She needed him, now. Still kissing him, she ran her hands down Jake’s hard, muscled chest, feeling every individual ridge there. It only made the flames of her desire run hotter. She fumbled with the top button, not willing to take her lips off of his.

  “Mmph,” said Jake, drawing his head back. “It’s a snap.”

  Breathless, Ariana tore his shirt open. Jake just grinned, and looking at him made Ariana laugh, kissing him again. As their tongues tangled together she moved her hands lower and lower, brushing through his still-thick chest hair, reaching for his belt buckle.

  In a flash, that was off too, and then she was unbuttoning his pants, reaching inside his boxers without bothering to take his pants off pants his knees.

  She found him hard already and squeezed him in her hand, hard, and was rewarded with a low, guttural groan from somewhere deep in his chest. He’d shrugged off the shirt and held Ariana tight to him as she slowly ran her hand up and down his hard member, savoring every second as she did. He was already leaking precum, a clear indicator that his desire was running as hot as hers.

  Ariana kissed the scars on his chest again, moving down slowly, intending to get on her knees but instead she felt strong hands holding her up. Jake chuckled at her.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said.

  She had no idea what could possibly be a better idea.

  Quickly, he had his pants and boxers off and stood in front of her, totally naked, a sculpted testosterone god, standing in her living room. The episode of Friends was still playing, not that Ariana could pay any attention to it.

  Then he bent down and scooped her up, and faster than she could blink, she was held aloft, in his arms. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and nearly squealed with delight.

  Ariana expected him to carry her to the bedroom, but it seemed he had a better idea — the kitchen table. All it had a was a small pile of mail and a spoon, and he put her down, gently, peeling off her pajama pants as he did, and then, as she sat up, taking off her sweatshirt. Suddenly was was naked, too, and Jake was right there, his throbbing bulk between her legs.

  “I want you right now,” she said, her hands roaming all over him. Had there ever been a more perfect specimen of manhood, she wondered? Probably not.

  He chuckled again and pushed her back onto the table. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle either, and he held her down at the same time that he moved his lips slowly down her neck, her collarbone, to each delicate nipple, then quickly past her bellybutton. He paused to position her knees over his shoulders, and then, his hot breath was on her mound, and he began licking her.

  Just like always, he was slow at first, his tongue dancing delicately up and down, from her entrance up to her clit and then back down, teasing her, making her ache with anticipation. She secured her hands in his hair, no longer afraid of hurting him — he was so much stronger than her, if he wanted her to stop, he could just move her hands, but he never did.

  Instead his tongue was insistent, even a little rough — Ariana could feel his need as well, his joy at being with her again. She arched her back a little, her hands still in his hair,
and moaned softly, her toes curling.

  “Jake,” she gasped. That was the only thing she could think of: his name. She grabbed the side of her kitchen table with one hand as she felt herself get closer and closer to orgasm, and she moaned again, unable to keep the sound from escaping her lips.

  If anything, he licked harder and then Ariana was there, on the precipice and she hurtled over the edge, coming hard, digging her nails into the wood of her kitchen table and arching her back up off of it.

  “Jake!” she shouted. She couldn’t stop herself — it just felt so good, and so pure, that she was compelled to shout for him, out of pure joy that he was back. “Oh, God, Jake,” she whimpered.

  He lifted his head and nuzzled his face against one round thigh, and Ariana knew that she wasn’t done. She didn’t want to be done. She wanted him in her, all the way inside, to take her and for the two of them to become one, just for a few minutes.

  Jake stood, her knees still on his shoulders. He leaned over her on the table and kissed her hard. Ariana could taste herself on him, but she didn’t mind. Somehow it was sexy, and she reached down between her legs, grabbing his hard length, and positioning it right at her opening.

  In one fluid motion, Jake pushed all the way inside her. Ariana gasped and then moaned with the sudden feeling of perfect fullness that threatened to completely overwhelm her. Above her, Jake groaned, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he stayed inside her, all the way, for just another moment.

  It felt perfect.

  Then, slowly, he pulled out and began thrusting, slowly, and Ariana moved one leg to wrap around his waist, her way of keeping him as close as she could.

  Jake moaned softly, and then the sound deepened and his thrusts got harder and harder, almost as if he were possessed by some animal instinct. He threaded one arm under her, grabbing her by the shoulder, pulling her down into him, and Ariana gasped in pleasure, arching her back again, trying to let him as deep inside her as possible. She was gripping his shoulders in her hands, so hard she was afraid she’d leave marks, but everything felt so incredible that it was all she could do.

  Ariana knew she was about to cum again, improbably, but there it was. Jake ran one hand up her body, pausing at her breast, and pinched her nipple, just slightly.

  She was so turned on that that was all it took and she was tumbling over the edge again, lost to the pleasure of having Jake inside her, of having him back after she’d thought he was lost. This time she screamed his name, the only word that she could think of, over and over again until she’d finished, the waves of pleasure no longer moving through her.

  Jake grunted, once, and then said, “Ariana,” in a half-moan, half-whisper and she felt him cum inside her, pumping his seed deep as he held her tight to his chest.

  For a few minutes they just laid there, naked on Ariana’s kitchen table, their breathing and heartbeats in rhythm. Finally, Jake stood, slowly, and Ariana sat up.

  He took her hand and kissed her on the forehead, gently.

  “I think you’ve got your cable bill stuck to you,” he said, and carefully peeled it off of her back.

  * * *

  Jake woke up the next morning to a knock on the door and sat up. It took him a minute to remember where he was, and then it came rushing back to him: Ariana’s apartment, in Boston.

  She wasn’t in bed, though. Through the bedroom door he heard her thank someone and then shut her front door. Quickly, he pulled on jeans and his shirt and opened the bedroom door, still buttoning his shirt.

  Ariana was in the kitchen, unpacking groceries. “Well, good morning, handsome,” she said.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said.

  They kissed, again. Jake didn’t think he’d ever get enough of this.

  “Did you go grocery shopping?” he asked.

  “I got them delivered.” He must have look confused, because now it was Ariana’s turn to laugh at him. “A benefit of city living. We can’t all shift and go eat grubs.”

  “Okay, smartass,” he said, swatting at her butt. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Blueberry pancakes. Coffee’s over there,” she said, pointing to the pot. “Real coffee.”

  Jake took half a cup and then filled the rest with cream and sugar. Ariana rolled her eyes at him and drank the rest of it, black.

  Thirty minutes later, the pancakes were gone, and they were still talking, drawing patterns in the blueberry gunk on their plates with their forks.

  “Do you like Boston?” Jake said. “I could move here. I don’t think I’d mind.”

  Ariana leaned on one hand and thought about it. “I’m not sure I do,” she said, slowly. “It’s expensive, and it’s a pain in the winter. Most of my friends moved away after college.”

  “But your job is here,” said Jake.

  She shook her head, slowly. “I don’t think it needs to be,” she said. “There’s no reason I can’t telecommute, and my parents are in California, anyway.”

  Jake looked down. He felt like he couldn’t quite ask the question, whether she’d move to Evergreen permanently. Or, for now, at least. It didn’t seem fair to trap Ariana in a little town almost in the middle of nowhere, not when she was so young and had so much she had yet to do.

  Instead he took her hand and held it.

  “I wouldn’t mind moving to Evergreen,” she said, answering the question he hadn’t asked.

  “Really?” Jake said.

  Ariana laughed. “Really,” she said. “I don’t want to promise I’d live there forever, but yeah, I’d try. If I don’t like it, maybe we could move to Seattle in a few years, or....”

  She paused, and Jake realized what she’d just said: in a few years.

  “Yeah,” he said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “Maybe in a few years, we could.”

  Epilogue

  It was after midnight, and the Skagit Valley Hospital was very, very quiet. Only a few doctors and nurses walked around the halls, so nobody really noticed the woman wearing scrubs.

  She walked through the hall, looking down, studying a chart intently. Then she stopped at a room, checked the number against something on her clipboard, and went inside.

  Inside was a man with light brown hair and long sideburns, lying unconscious in a bed. The woman closed the door quietly and stood over the man, tears filling her piercing blue eyes. She took a few deep breaths, seeming to steady herself, and then took a pillow from behind the man’s head.

  He didn’t move. His cheeks looked hollow, like someone who hadn’t eaten properly.

  The woman swallowed, tears falling down her face now, her hands gripping the pillow so tight it looked like she might tear it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Then she pressed the pillow to the man’s face and held it there, tightly, until the machines connected to him began a cacophony of frantic beeping.

  By the time the night nurses got there, the man was dead and the woman was gone again.

  Untitled Document

  PART THREE

  Grizzly Country

  Prologue

  The streetlights were on but the moon was brighter, shining through the thick trees in jagged lines, spilling onto the quiet Main Street. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning, and nothing and no one in the little town moved. The two stoplights in town blinked from red to green in unison, bathing the street in different light.

  The grizzly bear walked down the center line of the road. She moved slowly and deliberately, not at all afraid that she might be seen, making no attempt whatsoever to hide. The light blinked green to red, not that there were any cars, not that it seemed she would care if there were.

  She walked the a few blocks of the little town, past antique stores, coffee shops, a bar, the library, restaurants and stores that sold wooden carvings of grizzlies.

  Then, after she’d passed, a door opened and for a moment the sounds of a bar spilled onto the street: music, a couple of people talking too loud. Two people stumbled ou
t of the door and into the street, both laughing at something.

  The bear turned her head, and then, slowly, her whole body. The two drunk people were holding each other up, still laughing, trying and failing to make it back to the sidewalk, falling into the wet street.

  They didn’t see the bear until she was about five feet away.

  “Cut it out,” one of them said, waving a hand at the bear. He had shaggy, chin-length hair and a goatee. “Man, that’s a terrible bear costume.”

  The other guy, who also had shaggy hair but was clean-shaven, just stared at the bear.

  The bear closed the gap between her and the two young men.

  “Seriously, quit it,” said the first guy.

  “Greg,” said the other one. They were both sitting on the ground where they’d fallen, and the clean-shaven one groped for his friend. “Greg, dude, that’s a bear.”

  Greg kicked one foot at the bear, lazily dismissing it. “There is not a bear on Main Street,” he said, his words slurring together. “It’s probably Justin. You hear that, Justin, you prick? I’m not falling for it.”

  As if interested to see how this played out, the bear sat on her haunches, watching the two men.

  “Oh shit,” said the second guy. “Oh, shit. Um. Hey bear! Get away! Shoo!”

  He leaned in and clapped his hands at the bear, hollering at the top of his lungs.

  Greg began laughing hysterically again.

  “Shoo!” he echoed between drunken giggles.

  The bear just watched them. She tapped one claw on the pavement. One of the young men, the clean-shaven one, began to get to his feet.

  “Man, get up,” he said. “There’s something wrong with this bear, we should go.”

  “What’s wrong with it is that it’s a BEAR COSTUME,” he shouted, his voice rising on the last two words.