“You’ll learn,” Daisy said, shrugging. She put down her beer and leaned against the back of the couch, turning to face me. She’d turned the lights down a little and her eyes glittered in the soft amber glow of her table lamp. She’d taken off her shoes and folded her legs up under her. She looked soft and sexy and also cozy.
I felt a little dizzy. I wanted to kiss her so badly but I also didn’t want to mess with this fragile parenting thing.
“You don’t have to know everything tonight,” Daisy said. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, covering her fingers with my palm, keeping her touch right where it was before she could move. I could at least have that. “Um...one thing at a time, right?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, searching for a sign. “Did I mention, I wish I hadn’t run off? Not to mention the Haldo bullshit-”
“I know,” she said quietly. “You may have said something like that about a million times the other night.”
“Right,” I said, sheepishly. “Just making sure.”
“Did I mention I’ve never loved anyone but you?” Daisy whispered.
My breath caught at that. We’d said we loved each other, sure. But I wasn’t entirely sure how she meant it. Of course, we loved each other as friends and always had. But there was no mistaking what she meant now.
“Migs-”
Impulsively, I leaned forward and cut her off with a kiss, forgetting everything I’d just promised myself. It was impossible not to kiss her now when she was looking at me with those eyes full of trust. When she looked at me like she believed in me, I felt like I could be the man and the lion she and Andy needed. I felt like a king. A true alpha.
Daisy tasted a little like the beer she’d just sipped and also like the strawberry scented lip balm she was wearing. I wondered if she’d worn it because she’d always worn it when she was young. We’d always just been friends but that strawberry scent coupled with her natural lioness’s musk made me nostalgic. Every time she’d lean in close when I was a horny teenager, stupidly in love with my best friend, she’d driven me crazy. Now she tasted like that and her soft lips parted. I tasted her tongue and her mouth and she urged me on, gripping my jersey and tugging me closer.
We made out for a while and it was like we were trying to make up for lost time as we explored each other’s mouth, taking pleasure in merely tasting each other. Daisy tasted like home somehow and soon enough she’d helped me peel off my shirt and the thermal I was wearing under it. Her sweater was on the floor and I was pushing her back, a little amethyst crystal on a black cord that I’d been wearing since the ninth grade dangling from my neck, my dark hair a curtain around me as I gazed down at Daisy as our breath mingled.
Daisy chuckled and there was something so intimate about it as she took that amethyst pendant in her hand and marveled at it.
“I can’t believe you still wear this,” she said.
Oh yeah, also Daisy had given me that amethyst.
“Always reminded me of you,” I muttered. It was off-handed but the way I looked at her, there was no mistaking how serious I was. Daisy reached up to trace her fingers along my jaw and my stubbly chin and I ducked my head, turning to kiss the palm of her hand.
“It should have been like this,” Daisy said wonderingly. “It should have always been like this.”
“It can be like this now,” I said. It was easy for us both to forget how young we still were. After where we’d come from and everything we’d both been through apart and together, I think we both felt older than we were. There were so many times when we’d had to at least pretend we were older than our real age. A person got used to that. “We’ve got our whole lives,” I whispered against Daisy’s mouth. She smiled at that and wrapped her arms around my neck.
The two of us writhed and just enjoyed each other on her couch for a little bit. But eventually Daisy’s bra came off and my pants came unzipped. Daisy’s soft hand reached down my jeans and she gently grasped my cock, stroking it slowly as she looked up at me. I nodded and thrusted myself into her hand, leaning down to kiss and lick at her breasts.
My mate, I thought. It wasn’t as if it was for the first time. I remembered looking at her when we were both fifteen and thinking that even then: My mate.
“God, you smell so good,” I whispered. “I forgot how good you smell, Daisy…”
I remembered being a little kid and picking daisies whenever I saw them in springtime just to bring them to her. I remembered how flustered I was, even though we were such close friends and even when I could hardly make sense of the riot of feelings rushing around in me. I would always just thrust the daisy at her and then make a joke about it. But she’d always been so pleased by it.
Now I had her in my arms where she belonged. The first time we’d been together there’d been a sense of desperation about it. We’d been so grateful to see each other again and I’d been so grateful that the awful thing I’d done had not destroyed her. I’d just wanted to hold her forever that night and yet in the morning the fear had overwhelmed me. I would make up for that, I told myself now, spreading my palms along her back and feeling the softness of her skin as she lightly moaned in my ear. I would make up for everything. Even if it took me the rest of my life, I would do it.
“I want to feel you,” Daisy whispered. “Please, Miguel…”
I stripped Daisy of her jeans that had hugged her curves so tight all night, driving me crazy. She shimmed out of her panties, seeming anxious with anticipation and I laid down on top of her, feeling every inch of her soft skin against mine. I gently pressed her knees apart and she wrapped her legs around me as I slid my cock inside her. We had only been together one time and yet somehow, it was so familiar. It was as if something was finally falling into place.
“Miguel,” Daisy said, moaning. “Migs…”
I hadn’t been called that in so long before Daisy had come back. I liked hearing it fall from her lips.
I felt the history we shared bringing us together now, our connection binding us and thrumming, making us both buzz with pleasure as we rocked together, finding our natural rhythm.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” I said, my voice cracking slightly as I thrusted deeper and deeper inside her. I felt as if there was some end I could reach; the end of Daisy. But there was no end. There was just the two of us, fitting together perfectly, and chasing each other’s pleasure to greater and greater heights. “All that time,” I said, as she held me tight. “All those years, everyday, I wanted you… I would be walking and think I saw you and it was someone else… I always wanted it to be you…”
I reached down and found her clit with the calloused tip of my finger and rubbed the little nub I found slowly, carefully, ringing gasps of pleasure from her as she stared into my eyes. I couldn’t get enough of the sight of her like this; undone by me. It was addicting. It was more than I’d ever dared to want in life and here it was.
“I missed you too,” she breathed, gasping and arching up against my hand even as my cock pounded into her. “I...ah...I thought of you too...everyday...everyday, Miguel…”
Something about the confirmation of that mutual pining between us all this time sent me over the edge and I felt pleasure at my core as I pulsed inside her. I gasped and clung to her as she clenched around me, impossibly tight and hot, and I rubbed more furiously at her clit, smiling against her cheek as she shrieked into my shoulder to muffle her cries and bucked into me, the two of us helpless to pleasure.
We probably should have moved to the bedroom but it was too late for that now.
It was minutes later before either of us spoke. Daisy grabbed a throw blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over us before peppering my chest with kisses.
“Holy shit, Miguel,” she whispered. “It’s a good thing Andy’s a heavy sleeper.”
That made me laugh and then Daisy laughed and the two of us laughed more than I’d laughed at all in a long time.
Chapter Eight: Daisy
That night
, Miguel fell asleep in my bed. I hadn’t expected it, but I had a hard time fighting the smile that constantly wanted to spread across my face as we brush our teeth at the sinks. Miguel was brushing his teeth with a foamy finger and he wiggled his nose at me, making me giggle, before we spat and wiped our mouths with my hand towel, casting each other shy glances.
The most astounding part was that I felt no doubt about things now. I wasn’t afraid he would run off or that he would skip out on what he’d promised Andy. I just knew in a way that I’d never known before that I was for him and he was for me and we were both at home with that. We were a family finally.
“Come here,” Miguel had whispered in my ear as he spooned up behind me. He slung his arm over me and clutched my hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of my neck. “Is that good?”
“Yeah,” I murmured, as my eyes slipped shut. “That’s perfect.”
I didn’t remember what I dreamed that night but it wasn’t comforting. It was scary and tumultuous and as the morning slowly woke me, I found myself clutching Miguel’s hand tighter, squirming to feel safe in his embrace. Whatever it was, it scared me a little more that I couldn’t remember it. I frowned as my eyes fluttered open, realizing nothing bad was happening and that Miguel was here in bed with me. The dream had already gone and left me feeling a little off, a little disturbed.
“Are you okay?” Miguel whispered in my ear. “You were all restless.”
“I had a bad dream.” I rolled over to face him. He frowned and kissed the tip of my nose. “But I don’t remember what it was. Forget it, it’s fine.” I hummed happily, fully back in the waking world where everything was better than it had ever been. “Good morning, Migs.” I cuddled up to his chest and kissed his pectoral and he giggled.
“That tickles.”
I pinched the little bit of love handle around his waist and he yelped, squirming in the bed and protesting. I’d forgotten how ticklish Miguel was. I used to tickle him all the time. I’d tickle him when I wanted him to do something for me or when he was being broody. It worked more often than not. He was ticklish in several different places too and now he’d caught on, realizing I was on a tear.
“No no no!” He said, but he was laughing as I cackled, trying to tweak the inside of his armpits or wiggle my fingers under his ear. Soon we were wrestling around in the bed, the two of us naked and playful. It was like we were both lion and human. Adult and teenager and child. Lovers and best friends. I finally collapsed on top of Miguel, my breasts pressed up against his chest, my leg slung over him. He tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed my forehead. “I hope it’s always like this,” he muttered.
“It can be,” I said, and I found that I truly believed it. “It will be.”
That morning, we made love again. I supposed we had a lot of lost time to make up for and I didn’t mind that at all, even if I had to hop up and check to make sure the bedroom door was locked and checked the clock. It was still very early though. Andy wouldn’t be up yet.
That morning as Miguel slid inside me while his lips met mine, I felt us connecting again just as I had the night before. I wondered if all mates felt this strongly for each other. It was as if we were only just realizing we were sort of the same person.
“Come have breakfast,” I said later, kissing the tense ridges of muscle along his chest, his abs, the triangle of his hips… “I’ll make you an omelet. Or we could take Andy on a run and go hunting.”
“Oh man,” Miguel said, kissing my hair. “That would be awesome.”
He grinned and sat up, fidgeting with his amethyst necklace. “It would be,” I agreed. “But coffee first.”
We finally rolled ourselves out of bed and Miguel slipped on his jeans and thermal, but I grabbed his well worn old Cougars jersey before he could put it back on. I put on a fresh pair of panties and his jersey and ran a hand through my mass of curly hair, raising my eyebrows when I saw the dopey expression on his face.
“What?” I said. He was sitting on the bed, about to put on his boots but I interrupted him, stepping between his knees, smiling as I pushed his thick hair back. His hands slid up my thighs, teasing just where the hem of the jersey fell.
“You look super sexy in my jersey,” Miguel said. I leaned down to kiss him and we forgot about coffee for a while until I heard a little thump from Andy’s room. “Looks like our kid is awake.”
Our kid.
“You’re still here!” Andy gaped at Miguel who was sipping his second cup of coffee. “Hi!”
“Hey, good morning,” Miguel said, chuckling. Andy sat down next to Miguel at the kitchen table and just stared as if Miguel might have been only a figment of his imagination the night before.
For now, Miguel was more like a superhero to Andy, I could tell. But I hoped that would transition more into a dad thing.
“Andy doesn’t like eggs,” I declared. Andy dutifully made a face like he did whenever I so much as mentioned eggs.
“No eggs!” Andy said.
“No eggs,” I said, raising my hands in defense as I slid a glass of juice across the table. “We’re eating breakfast in the woods today, sweetheart. We’re going to take you hunting.”
Andy’s eyes got big and he looked to Miguel. “Are you going to?”
“Yeah,” Miguel said, nodding. “Of course.”
“Yessss!”
Andy got all hyper again like he’d been getting the past couple days. I didn’t know what was causing that energy spike but I was hoping it was just some weird phase now as he shifted and raced around the room like he had the other night.
“Holy shit,” Miguel muttered, watching the tiny lion cub leap from the couch to the coffee table as I sighed and went after him. “Does he always do that?”
“No,” I said. “This is new. Welcome to being a parent.”
Not long later, we were heading to the woods. It was just a run. I took Andy on runs from time to time, although never as often as I wanted to. I wanted him to feel as closely tied to his shifter culture as I was when I was a kid, even if the circumstance hadn’t been that great. I felt bad that while we had been casually if not formally welcomed into the Middlesmark pride (the alpha had greeted me when I’d made my presence known in the woods one night), we’d never connected much to the community. I figured if Andy and I were with Miguel though, we’d be with St. Dominic. I wondered what that would be like.
“Does he hunt already?” Miguel said, nodding at Andy who was skipping and hopping along the snowy sidewalk.
“No,” I said with a snort. “He chases squirrels and birds. I don’t think he’s ever caught anything. I’ve taught him a thing or two though. I hate to be old fashioned but I do like the idea of you teaching him to hunt.”
“I can do that!” Miguel rubbed his hands together and his childish excitement made me laugh so hard, I had to cover my mouth. “I can definitely do that.”
Miguel did do that. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun on a run, and I’d had plenty of fun on runs with Andy. I watched my man, my mate teach my son how to track. A few times they had to shift into human form because Andy clearly wasn’t paying close attention and Miguel wanted to try talking to him. He taught Andy how to pick out the scent of prey from other scents, how to look for hoof or paw prints, how to avoid competitors who might fight over your chosen prey. At one point Miguel pretended to be a lion who was going to fight Andy for food and they ended up gently tussling in the snow until Andy’s little mouth was wide open, his sharp little teeth snapping at his dad who tenderly batted at him with his giant paws. I wished I had a camera.
Finally, we got down to business and (as so often happens with lions), the mother ended up catching the kill. I could feel Miguel’s eyes on me as I tracked the deer through the woods. He was getting off on watching me hunt and it turned me on a little bit. I slinked through the snow and the poor thing never heard me coming. Too bad for her. I pounced and took it down in seconds and soon enough the three of us were chowing down, f
illing our bellies with its meat. It tasted better than I remembered deer tasting. I guess it had been a while. It’s easy to forget how good a fresh kill can be.
We ate to our hearts’ content and Miguel and I finally shifted back and made our way back to my place. Miguel had a practice later and I had a shift at the diner. I’d be dropping off Andy at daycare. I was thinking about all that and how I needed to get to the store and wondering when I could bring Andy to Miguel’s place when he wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we headed through the snow. It felt so domestic suddenly. Just another day; the three of us going about our business.
Miguel kissed my cheek and I leaned into the touch.
We were just about to hit town and Andy was still scampering around as a cub. “Hey, Andy! Time to shift back, honey.”
Andy glanced back at me and then paused in the snow, looking slightly distressed. Miguel and I stopped, catching up to him and I crouched down, raising my eyebrows at the mountain lion cub.
“Andy? Shift back, sweetheart.” Andy just stared at me and he shook his head, eyes wide. “Can you not shift back?”
He shook his head.
Huh. That was weird. I patted his head, frowning. Miguel came up beside me and said, “Has he ever had a problem before?”
“Only the first couple times he ever shifted,” I said. “He was a baby. He was really easy with it. He’s never had trouble.”
I felt a small bit of panic suddenly. It was a small thing, probably some fluke. Soon enough he’d get it. He’d shift and we’d all go about our day.
Except it didn’t happen.
Miguel and I spent what turned into another hour there in the snow trying to help Andy shift which mostly amounted to saying the same things over and over about concentrating and finding that human inside you. It was difficult to describe to a person how they should try to shift. It was like telling someone to use a muscle they didn’t know they had. Most shifter kids stumbled into shifting as infants or toddlers and you didn’t need to tell them much about how to go back and forth. It was as easy as learning to walk.
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