Secretly Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifters 4)

by P. Jameson

  Owyn ripped his shirt over his head and flung it. Somewhere over his shoulder there was a soft thud and crash.

  Fuck it.

  Doc removed his hat, tossing it aside, and then reached behind her, unlatching the bra, as he grasped between the cups and yanked it away. His mate’s breasts were the softest little mounds of flesh tipped in rosy pink. He cupped one with a shaking hand. Aw, damn that felt right.

  The amount of time he could tolerate being away from her was growing shorter and shorter.

  He wanted to see her eyes, the way they burned with her cat when she was enjoying what he did to her. But if he met her gaze, she’d see what was in his, and it was too much. More than she was ready for.

  Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers as he kneaded her flesh and stoked her desire, tweaking her hardened nipples until her breathing became hitched. Inching her jeans over her hips, he planted tender kisses along her neck, grazing his teeth over her jaw.

  “Owyn,” she whispered, barely more than a breath.

  Scream it, he wanted to say. But it wasn’t right, not when her doubt still stung so badly. Not when they’d made a deal, and she wanted to stick to it.

  His throat ached with emotions he couldn’t stomach. His cock ached with need. He wanted to punish her for making him feel so much when she didn’t feel the same.

  Enough.

  Pushing Doc’s jeans and panties to the floor in one fell sweep, he gripped her waist, lifting her onto the table and stepping between her slender thighs. Her hands curved around his cheeks and she pulled his mouth to hers while he worked his belt open.

  The sweetest lips, the sweetest taste. That was his Doc. He could drink what she offered forever and never get tired of it.

  Finally getting his erection free, he spread her legs wide and tilted her hips upward so he could rub his hardness against her swollen clit. Doc gasped at the touch, bracing her hands on the table behind her.

  He couldn’t wait another second.

  Inside, panther growled.

  Owyn looked down to watch their bodies connect as he inched his way in her hot slit. When he was buried to the top, his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

  They’d done this so many times. In the beginning, just to fulfill a need. Trapped by the clan’s no-mating rule and not wanting to go that far anyway, they’d made a promise to come to each other if their sexual appetite demanded release. Friends with benefits, is how he’d presented the idea. But the truth was Doc was his mate and the thought of her ever being with another male made him crazy with rage. Even back then, when he didn’t love her.

  But now, his feelings were so much more intense. And strangled. It made everything with her feel so powerful.

  He eased out of the tight grip of her body, and jerked her hips back into his, throwing her off balance so she’d have to hold onto him. With a gasp, her arms flew to his neck as he began a rhythm of steady, solid thrusts.

  Doc pressed her cheek to his, so her mouth was right at his ear. So he could hear every rush of breath. Every tiny whimper and moan. He loved it when she did that. Like she wouldn’t let their secret circumstances keep him from hearing her.

  “Owyn,” she breathed, as her nails dug into the back of his neck and he increased his speed. His name wasn’t bathed in pleasure the way it usually was. Instead it was… sad. And there was that smell again. The one that felt all wrong on his beautiful mate.

  Make it go away. Vanquish it. Make her happy.

  He pressed her closer, one hand tunneling through her hair to cradle the back of her head. “Tell me what you need?”

  If he only knew what to do, he’d do it.

  “Just you. Just this.”

  Her whisper shredded him. Just this.

  Just fucking in the closet. Just personal as long as no one sees. Just enough to take the edge off until the next clandestine meeting. But still doubting he’d stay true to his word.

  Just this.

  And he could give it to her. The same as he’d done for years.

  Slipping his hand between their bodies he found her clit and pressed gently as he continued the back and forth rhythm. She was nearing release, her body tightening around him in the most satisfying way. Another push and she went over the edge, convulsing in his arms as she sank her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her cries.

  The pinch of her tiny fangs was enough to make him come and he pounded into her, breathless.

  “There’s only been you. Only been you. It will only ever… be… you.” His voice broke on the last word as he came inside her.

  There was so much more he wanted to tell her, but he was broken. Weak. Could barely form words and trembling all to fuck as he slowed to a stop.

  “I’ll never break our agreement, Doc.” His lips brushed her skin with the promise. “Never. I swear.”

  Slowly his panther faded to the background, satisfied for now, and his mind came back to him.

  He held Doc, both of them shaking, while he tried to make sense of things.

  All he’d wanted was to go to her. Make her see that he could be faithful like the others. That he only wanted her, for the rest of eternity. That he’d make a damn good father and she’d make the most beautiful mother and they could have the entire fucking world if they both tried hard enough. And damn, would he have tried with her. His heart bled with her smiles. Thumped her name. Doc, Doc, Doc…

  He had it so bad he could barely keep his eyes off her when they were in public. How many times had he ached to tell her how he felt?

  But he’d run instead, trying to give her space to think about all that had happened. And now… now she doubted him.

  It hurt like hell. Made him sick to his stomach. And reminded him why he’d taken Magic’s no-mating pact in the first place.

  Doubt had killed Mandi, Magic’s first mate. He wouldn’t let it get Doc too.

  Doubt, and Magic’s young ignorance. Doubt, and Mandi’s inability to fight for what she wanted. They’d both made amends for their part in that relationship failure—Mandi in death and a rebirth of sorts, Magic in a new life—but all the pain they’d caused themselves and others… it was still with Owyn. It clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t part with, and colored every piece of his future a shade darker.

  Reluctantly, he pulled free from Doc’s body and yanked his pants back in place. His hands shook as he worked the zipper, and she touched them to steady him.

  Staring up at her, he sighed. “Need to clean you up.”

  She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it without speaking. It frustrated him. Doc wasn’t the type of woman who kept quiet about what she was thinking.

  He took her in. Her pleasure-fogged eyes were clearing, morphing into something… troubling.

  He reached up to brush his thumb over her still reddened cheek. Pale freckles dotted the ridge beneath her eye. He loved them. “What is it, Doc?”

  “Can we talk first?”

  Owyn frowned. Talk. From what little he knew about females, when one had that sad look in her eyes and she wanted to talk… it never meant anything good.

  “About what?”

  She reached up to tuck some hair behind one ear. “Us,” she said softly.

  Us. This was bad, he could feel it. All his instincts screamed in warning.

  “Us? You mean our arrangement?”

  Doc nodded. “I don’t think it’s…” For the second time, she had trouble finding words, and Owyn’s chest filled with dread. Because he knew what she was trying to say.

  “You aren’t happy with the way we are.”

  She chewed her lower lip instead of answering. Her eyes found the floor in the most un-Doclike behavior.

  Owyn stared at her and his mouth went dry as panic flooded his senses. She was… breaking up with him? Was that what this was? They weren’t actually an item, but this felt like a breakup. Like she wanted out of their arrangement.

  Shit. Shit.

  Why? He wanted to ask why, but he didn’t trul
y want to know the answer. He just wanted to pretend she wasn’t done with him. Maybe if he’d rushed her to the shower without talking first, this could’ve been avoided.

  He stepped away, grabbing a small towel from the shelf by the door. Change of plans. He wasn’t cleaning his scent off her, not this time. She might be done with them, but he wasn’t. Never would be, and he needed time to figure out how to change her mind.

  “No shower today, Doc,” he murmured.

  Her eyes went wide, and maybe she wasn’t okay with it. He wasn’t going to ask.

  People would suspect them, but he didn’t care. The thought of washing off his scent when she was trying to pull away was like razor blades to his brain.

  Unbearable.

  “Y-you sure?”

  Carefully, he cleaned up the mess he’d made. “You have to get down to the spa for your shift. Don’t want you to be late.”

  “Uh… yeah,” she said, her voice flipping up on the end. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to keep Mason waiting. I’m sure he has people… um, things… to do.”

  Owyn passed her bra over, and stood back to watch her put it on. His mate had an amazing body. Lean and muscular and enough womanly curves to drive him wild with lust. But there was much more to Doc than her looks. She had a brain so sexy it made him weak in the knees, and she’d used her skills to save them more than a handful of times. None of the clan was untouched by her talents.

  Yes, she was amazing, and he wanted every amazing part of her to be his. He knew her body inside and out, knew her mind because he’d watched her work, but her heart? He needed to know her heart if there was ever a hope of them having more.

  Owyn pulled his t-shirt over his head and picked his cap up off the floor.

  It was settled then. Romance was the name of the game, and Doc’s heart was the prize. He’d play hard, and if she still didn’t trust him with her love…

  Well, it wouldn’t come to that.

  It couldn’t. Otherwise their secret will have meant nothing. And he refused to let that happen.

  Chapter Three

  Back then…

  Owyn sat on his stool at Cleaver’s bar, staring into his half full highball glass. The amber liquid wasn’t helping the boulder lodged in his chest, but it wasn’t not helping either. Which was more than he could hope for given what today was.

  He’d stay a while longer.

  The shifters-only watering hole was a dirty place full of dirty deeds done without remorse. It hadn’t felt dirty all those years ago when Owyn and Magic frequented it. It had just felt like… reality. It was a place males went to get fucked or fucked up. Females occasionally too, but never mated ones.

  A singular night, forever marked in Owyn’s heart, changed that. This night, five years prior, when he was just becoming a man.

  And Magic, the man he looked up to, made a fatal judgment call.

  Cleaver gave the counter in front of Owyn and pass with a rag. “Need a refill?” the falcon-shifter and owner of the sin den asked.

  Owyn gave him a nod and waited for a fresh beer.

  A crash over by the pool tables caught his attention as a rangy looking lion shifter pushed a bear into the cue rack. The lion looked crazy in the eyes. Half starved or feral. Something wasn’t right with him, but Owyn couldn’t care. Males came to the bar looking for a fight all the time.

  Fighting and sex fulfilled two of a shifter’s most important base instincts.

  Cleaver slid an icy glass in front of Owyn and leaned on the bar with his elbows. “How’s Magic doing?” he asked low.

  “Fine, I guess.”

  “Fine huh? He hasn’t been around since… since that night.”

  Owyn nodded. Magic was done with this life. Done with females and done with the bullshit way the mountain cats lived. Done with Cleaver, done with all of it. Owyn couldn’t blame him. He shouldn’t be here either.

  He ran his middle finger around the rim of the glass, and Cleaver caught the hint, moving on to serve the next customer.

  Owyn could’ve spent this anniversary anywhere else, but it only seemed fair to return to the place that brought on the tragedy. Being here served as a reminder of the dangers of careless mating. And though he didn’t need the reminder now, when the wound was only five years old, he’d need it later. Keeping it at the forefront of who he was would serve him another day.

  Five years ago, Mandi and Magic were newly-mates, still living under the old ways. The ways that favored the males of the species and procreation rather than emotions and love. The ways that were disgustingly animalistic and left little of their humanity at the forefront.

  Monogamy wasn’t possible. Or so they’d been told. And who were they to argue when it meant they could have whatever they wanted? License to fuck whoever sure sounded nice when they were young and stupid. But what about when they were in love, like Magic was back then. When they wanted only one woman but they’d been taught the necessity of many.

  Fucked up shit, is what it was. And it’d taken a goddamn tragedy for any of them to realize it.

  No, that wasn’t right. They’d realized it, back in the recesses of their minds where they didn’t want to play. It’d taken a tragedy to make it hit home and thunder through their core beliefs.

  That, and only that, made Mandi’s death worth something.

  She’d killed herself when she thought Magic had strayed. Drank poison rather than fight for what they had. And he’d been an ignorant ass, just like all of them, uncaring that their situation bothered her, because it was just the way of things. And like most feline females, she was just supposed to get used to it. He and Owyn partied away at Cleaver’s bar while a female of their clan was filled with so much despair she didn’t think she could go on living.

  It wasn’t okay. None of it was okay, and it wouldn’t be for a long time. Maybe not ever. All they could do now was cope with their guilt and do their damndest to protect other females from feeling the same way.

  A wolf-shifter took the stool next to Owyn. “Damn cat,” he muttered to Cleaver, gesturing to the volatile lion shifter. “Bastard’s looking for his female so he can claim her. He’s half crazy with lust already and she ain’t even around.”

  “Shee-ut,” Cleaver spat, staring at the pool area. “You know who she is?”

  The wolf eyed Owyn. “Yeah, but I ain’t saying. What if she don’t wanna be found?”

  “Good idea,” Owyn agreed, even though he wasn’t part of the conversation. “Keep that shit quiet or she’ll have a fight on her hands.”

  The wolf turned to face him, eyes narrowed. “Your kind can’t take no for an answer,” he sneered. “The way you treat your females is a disgrace. Ain’t no wonder half your species is in hiding.”

  “Red,” Cleaver snapped with a shake of his head.

  Red sat back on his stool and crossed his arms, quiet for several minutes. “You one of them?” he asked finally.

  Owyn swigged his beer. “Them?”

  “You from that clan down south? The one that doesn’t mate.”

  Best to ignore that question.

  The wolf grunted as Cleaver poured him a shot of whiskey. “Wonder how long that’ll last. Can’t go your whole life without mating if you ever want offspring. Your pack’ll die out.”

  “Clan,” Owyn corrected. “Cats have clans. Wolves have packs.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and his glass, before slamming it back.

  “Well, good on ya, man. Better than whittlin’ away at your females I guess. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. But at least you ain’t an asshole like that fella over there.”

  Oh, he was an asshole. There was no helping that. But at least he wasn’t chaining a female to that for eternity.

  Owyn finished his beer, and another, before he’d wallowed in the past enough to feel he’d paid Mandi’s ghost her due. Tossing some bills on the counter, he thanked Cleaver and made his way out to the parking lot.

  The entire area was surrounded by trees, sitting at the very edg
e of a place so tiny it was a death away from being a ghost town.

  Owyn wound past vehicles until he reached the back corner where his truck was parked. Digging in his pocket for his keys, he froze when a terrified shriek rocketed through the trees beyond the lot.

  He shook his head, unsure if he was imagining things. But then a roar… a very animalistic roar made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. Something was wrong. And if his instincts were anything to go by, it involved shifters.

  The town was small, but there were still unsuspecting humans around. If they got in the way, someone could get hurt. It was why fights were supposed to stay contained to Cleaver’s.

  Owyn ran past the truck and into the trees, following the sounds of snarling. He pulled to a stop in a small clearing, the sight before him stealing his breath as if he’d taken a hit to the gut.

  A female panther lay hissing on the leaf covered ground, blood gushing from three long slashes across her torso. The male from the bar, the one looking for his mate, stood over her, his long, stringy hair falling over his face.

  “You bitch,” he spat, and Owyn realized the man was holding his crotch with a bloody hand. “Look what you made me do. You’re all torn up now. Probably couldn’t give me young. Shit.”

  The cat snarled at him even though she was clearly bleeding out from the wound he’d inflicted.

  “Useless,” he muttered, kneeling beside her and placing his palm against her chest.

  He was trying to heal her with their mating bond. Owyn let out a breath of relief. Watching another female die, even one who wasn’t part of his clan, would be too much.

  But her wounds didn’t close as they should, and she let out another tortured scream, making Owyn’s stomach curl in warning.

  “You owe me this,” the lion shifter gritted. “I’ll use this bond to fix what you did to my goods before you die, and then I won’t give you another thought. Bitches like you who can’t submit, don’t deserve to live. Especially when you can’t give me cubs.”

  Fucking hell.

  The bastard wasn’t trying to heal her. He was attempting to heal himself. From a wound that was clearly superficial. Something his lion could heal for him. He was moving after all, while she was sliced open to the guts.