Mate Me, Keep Me

by Angelique Voisen

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 Angelique Voisen

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-887-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Stephanie Balistreri

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my readers, especially to those who’ve asked about Pat and Jacob, this story is for you.

  MATE ME, KEEP ME

  Romance on the Go ®

  Angelique Voisen

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  Jacob

  I woke up, disheveled and well-fucked in unfamiliar sheets—black silk, way finer than I’m used to. A stranger wound his arms tight around my body, bringing me close. He pressed his nose against the line of my neck, the gesture rattling my nerves. Despite being human, I knew what it meant. I tensed, feeling the heat of his mouth and the slight points of his canines against my vulnerable skin.

  God, he possessed such a talented mouth. I remembered the skill he wrapped those lips around my dick, holding me captive, wanting me to cry out his name and beg permission for release. It had been so long for him and for me, making it easy for both of us to give in to the moment.

  No, this man is no stranger. I can’t call him client or a one-night stand exactly, because he’s more than that.

  “Pat,” I whispered.

  The past twenty-four hours returned to me. I answered a strange ad, promising a generous amount of cash if I played the client’s dead mate. I expected a number of things. Knew the risks, but never in a million years did I expect to fall hard and fast for eccentric werebear millionaire Pat Singer.

  Neither of us wanted to spend Christmas Eve alone. One night, no masks, and I discarded the script Pat gave me. We made promises, told each other to take one day at a night. Easy enough to say in the heat of the moment, in the cover of night, when we were two lonely souls desperately eager to connect. Daylight spoke a different story.

  Doubt clouded me, had the ability to consume me. I don’t make it a habit, sleeping with random men for money. An ex-soldier not wanting to return to the field, I was broke and without direction, I answered Pat’s ad on impulse, never expecting this…whatever this is, between us. Nothing good could come out of something wrong, could it?

  I looked like the exact replica of Pat’s ex-husband. All I need to do is look around the house to see it—him. Even Pat’s bedroom is covered with black-and-white photos of my replica, Jack. It’s discomforting, seeing Jack’s reminders dominating the apartment, even after he’s long gone. No doubt, Jack lingered in Pat’s thoughts.

  Did Pat have some space left in his heart to love another, or if he looked at me, all he saw was Jack? I’m a little rough around the edges, more scarred than Jack, but a bad copy’s better than none, I supposed. The thought left ashes in my mouth. I can’t do this. I won’t, but I don’t have any other place to go. My pride is no longer on the line.

  The moment I turned eighteen, I enlisted. Seeing horrors of war firsthand had been enough to last me a lifetime, and I refused to go back to my family and friends in defeat. Besides, I can’t deny how Pat’s attraction felt like a drug. Once I had a taste, I wanted more. I always knew I was submissive in the bedroom. Pat’s dominance is exactly what I crave.

  “Stay still,” Pat grumbled when I tried to turn and face him. He doesn’t sound awake yet, but I can’t deny how the solid muscles of his massive arms feel amazing around my lean body.

  What right did I have to judge Pat? Loneliness drove people to do insane things. I answered his ad of my own violation. Convinced him to take the plunge and see where this would go when he was about to change his mind and send me home. I can’t back out now.

  “Pat, it’s almost eleven. Don’t you think its time to wake up?”

  Pat nuzzled the back of my neck, bringing me close, until my back touched the solid press of his broad chest. I can’t miss his erection, teasing the curve of my ass. I drew in a shaky breath, aware of my own cock thickening under the sheets. That’s all Pat needed to do. One touch and I’m his.

  I grew still, hearing his growl.

  “I can smell you, human. Your arousal.” Pat moved his hand from my waist, curling his fingers over my dick. He swept the pre-cum over my glistening tip with a finger, before gliding his fist up and down.

  “Pat, we need to talk.” The last thing I want to do was talk, but we need to establish boundaries, to figure us out. Did we even have an ‘us’, when we’re practically strangers? We’d only met hours before, yet Pat held my body prisoner. My heart wouldn’t be far, but I can’t go down that road, not until I knew all the stakes.

  “Enough talk. You woke me up.” Pat bit down on my earlobe, making me moan. He started rubbing his prick, teasing my puckered hole, but not pushing in. I understood his game. He wanted to hear me beg, but I won’t give in easy. “Let me remind me who this cock and ass belongs to, pet.”

  Last night, Pat showed reluctance. It seemed all traces of it vanished after he took me. I don’t know how I felt about this new Pat. He seemed to know what he wanted, and that was me—me or Jack? I gently pushed him away, or I tried, but I don’t resist him long. Pat and I knew it would be a matter of time before I caved.

  “I want—” I bit my lips, groaning as his callused fingers worked my shaft. I’m thick and long for him, ready to burst any moment, but I need his permission to come.

  “Tell me,” Pat coaxed, pressing his dick against my opening.

  Still stretched out from last night and filled with his cum, Pat met no resistance. He sheathed himself all the way in, until his balls bounced against the curve of my ass. Pat’s hand movements picked up speed. Pat felt good in me, like he knew he belonged there all along. Buried in my ass, I couldn’t think, much less formulate any sensible words but the ones Pat wanted to hear.

  “Please. I can’t hold it any longer.” I silently willed my inner muscles to clamp around his member like a fist.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight for me, Jacob.”

  One word, my name, was all I needed to hear. Jacob. He remembered my name. Perhaps this wasn’t as hopeless as I once thought.

  “Give it to me, your release.”

  Letting out a shuddering cry, I unload my balls, and ropes of my cum coated Pat’s hand and his pricey sheets. My head reeled, and the room fell away, along with Jack’s pictures.

  Fuck my insecurities. We’ll define the future.

  “Fucking perfect,” Pat whispered against my ear, making me shudder. He put his slick fingers to my lips. “Taste yourself on me, your need.”

  I obeyed, licking his fingers clean. When he groaned, I grinned. Gripping my hips hard, he drew out his prick, before slamming back in. My smile faltered. God. That felt good. With each thrust, my cock woke to life, thickening again. Pat growled and finished in me, shooting his load. I came hard again. When I turned to him, he licked my seed off his fingers.

  “Your cream tastes better than honey.”

  I let out a shaky laugh, and like that, Pat destroyed whatever awkwardness and tension existed between us. When he flopped back in bed, I raised an eyebrow.

  “A bear needs a full eight hours of sleep and you kept me up all night.” Pat grabbed a pillow and placed it over his head. “Help yourself to whatever, but don’t mis
take my meaning, Jacob. When I wake up, I expect you to still be here.”

  “Not like I have any place to go,” I mumbled. Pat took away the pillow, peering at me. What would I return to? A seedy motel room with all my belongings packed in a single army-issued duffel bag? “I’ll be around.”

  Hearing Pat snoring, I get out bed and take my time enjoying his shower. Must be nice, to have hot water all the time. Since I came over last night in the suit and trousers Pat provided so I could play Jack, I borrowed some of his clothes. In Pat’s plain white shirt—two sizes too big but undeniably comfortable, and jogging pants, I felt more like myself. I headed out of the room to explore the rest of his penthouse suite.

  The floor-to-ceiling glass windows in the living room faced the city. I remembered approaching Pat the night before, wrapping my arms around him. We watched Pat’s neighbors like voyeurs, observing the world underneath us unfold. How lonely it must be for Pat, being stuck up here alone, I had thought. Tearing my gaze away from the splendid, but strangely melancholy view, I head to the kitchen in search of coffee.

  It took me three tries to figure out Pat’s expensive cappuccino machine. After making my drink, I settle on a stool facing his kitchen counter. I ran my callused fingers across the smooth marble surface. Every single thing in Pat’s home—his fortress, because he refused to go out after Jack died—reminded me we came from two entirely different worlds.

  I knew nothing about Pat, but he knew plenty about me. Pat admitted he had his team run a security check on me. I’m not surprised, or angry, but the thought unsettled me.

  The front door opening made me jump. I didn’t think Pat welcomed visitors. The young woman dressed entirely in black, had a tablet propped in one hand, while the other held out a box of donuts.

  “Boss, I need you to look at something.” Seeing me, she halted, mouth frozen to an ‘O’. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at me. “Who the fuck are you? Why do you look familiar? Where’s Pat?”

  Judging by the casual way she addressed Pat, she must mean something to him, but what? Pat played for the all-male team as far as I knew, and he only loved Jack. Still, unwarranted envy rammed into me. Fucked up I know. I had no right to be jealous, because Pat was nothing to me. Yet.

  “Morning, Lex. That’s Jacob.” Pat emerged from his room, freshly showered, towel around his neck.

  My mouth watered at the sight of him shirtless, barefoot and only wearing boxers. Working out had been one of his hobbies while he ran his multi-million company from the comfort of his own home and it showed. Built like a fighter, there was not an inch of fat on Pat. Old fight scars lingered on his body, reminding me Pat had claws, literally. Dealing with one brooding, and occasionally moody, sexy, domineering human was one thing, handling a werebear takes a different kind of skill.

  “It’s afternoon, boss.” Lex frowned, eyeing me closely. “No wonder he looked familiar. He’s the actor you hired?”

  Great. Pat apparently told Lex what exactly I’m here for. Pat’s growl surprised both Lex and I.

  “Jacob’s more than that.” Pat walked to me.

  I felt foolish, rising from my stool, still holding my mug of coffee. Pat seemed to know what to do. Gripping my chin, he angled my mouth for a kiss I’m all but helpless to receive. Electricity leapt from my mouth to his, and Pat rubbed his body against mine, letting me feel how hard he easily became for me.

  Lex politely cleared her throat.

  After Jacob released me, I’m a little breathless, giddy even. Alarm bells rang in my head. If this goes any further, I’m doomed. A few hours, and I’m slowly becoming addicted to Pat. Not a good thing when I don’t have a clue where the hell this was heading to.

  “Jacob, this is Lex, a member of my security team and my private hacker.”

  “You have your own hacker?” I asked, flabbergasted.

  “Lex, Jacob will be staying with me for the moment.”

  Stunned, I stared at Pat. “When did we have this conversation? You can’t just decide things on your own without asking me first.”

  “Oh, boss. I like your human already,” Lex remarked. At Pat’s warning growl, she smartly said, “I’ll bug you later about this security matter, and I’ll leave your donuts here.”

  Once she left, Pat settled on the stool next to mine, box of donuts in hand. Watching him paw thorough the box with focus, I wondered for a second if he remembered he had company.

  “Aren’t you going to share?”

  Blinking, Pat looked damn adorable, holding out a honey-glazed donut in one hand and staring at me like a child caught doing something wrong. Grunting, he pushed the box towards me. “Dibs on all the honey-glazed.”

  Opening the box, I critically eyed the choices. “There’s only one chocolate donut covered with sprinkles.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t like variety. Don’t humans eat very little? I can call someone to get us something else.”

  “It’s okay. Pat,” I said, hoping I looked and sounded serious. After nibbling at my donut and noticing Pat was onto his second, I continued, “We need to talk.”

  “About?”

  “You presuming I’d move in with you without talking to me about it first, and where all this is going.”

  “Didn’t we cover that with you moving in? I don’t exactly go out on dates.”

  Exasperated, I reminded myself Pat’s last relationship had ended with him being a recluse and it must’ve been ages since he last dated anyone else. At my silence, his frown deepened.

  “You don’t want to move in then?”

  “It’s not that. Pat, moving into my boyfriend’s place is serious stuff and you’re not even that.” I breathed in and out, hoping I wouldn’t hyperventilate. I can’t call myself experienced in the relationship department either. Before enlisting, I never had a serious boyfriend, unless one counted balls-deep in the closet, Hunter Peterson.

  “I understand.” Pat stiffened. “I’ll have my driver come around. He’ll take you to whatever destination you like.”

  “Hold on a damn second.”

  Unthinkingly, I grabbed his hand, swallowing when his fingers clasped over mine. Handholding seemed juvenile compared to last night, but his firm grip told me volumes. I might be an unknown factor, destroying the usual monotonous flow of his life, but not only did he want me to stay, he needed me too. Not a believer of random chances, some part of me knew I answered his ad for a reason. If I didn’t take his offer now, I knew I would never hear from him again. For the rest of my life, I’d wonder about the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what could have beens’.

  “What are you saying, Jacob?”

  “Give me time.” I blew out a breath. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Taking back his hand like I burned him, Pat nodded, golden eyes grave. “I understand, I think.”

  Sensing we came to some kind of agreement, we ate breakfast in silence. The TV played in the background on mute, as Pat occasionally glanced at the news, or at me. What thoughts crossed his mind, I didn’t know.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” I said after putting our dishes in the sink. “Where’s the sponge and liquid soap?”

  “My housekeeper will take care of that, she usually arrives before lunch to prepare my meals.” Pat looked at me thoughtfully, answering my question. “You asking me that gives me hope you’ll come back. I’ll leave word with doorman in case you decide to join me for dinner.”

  “Tonight?” I asked, exasperated. Did our talk get us nowhere at all?

  “Do you have plans with someone else?” Pat narrowed his eyes, and a growl tickled between his lips.

  “You have no right to be jealous.” I didn’t know why I said those words. Making a werebear mad would fall on the list of incredibly stupid mistakes to make, but I couldn’t help myself. If Pat thought he’d gotten himself a human who would willingly bend and fold to his every whim, he thought wrong. “We’re not anything.”

  The unexpected smile on Pat’s sinfully tempting lips froze m
e. I had a feeling his next words would pack a punch. “You’ve made one grievous mistake, Jacob. When you offered yourself to me last night without hesitation, you knew.”

  “Knew what?” I asked, despite knowing the answer. My voice sounded hoarse, unlike myself.

  “That once I tasted you, you’re mine. Don’t deny you crave my touch and ownership either. I can see your hard-on, Jacob, how my words are enough to arouse you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Very mature.”

  Getting off the stool, I silently fumed and began hunting around the apartment for my belongings. Ignoring the fact Pat silently followed me like a shadow, I focused on my task. For a big man, he sure could move quietly. Aside from my battered wallet and the watch my father gave me for my eighteenth birthday, the rest of the clothes, even the silken boxers are the things Pat bought and specified for me to play Jack.

  “It’s cold out. At least put on some shoes and a coat,” Pat remarked once we’re by his front door. I looked over his broad shoulder, gritting my teeth at the sight of the grey skies and falling snow. Without another word, Pat flipped opened his shoe cabinet nearby. Glaring at him, I grabbed a pair of well-worn sneakers—again, too big, but they’re better than any of his polished leather shoes.

  “Why do you have so many shoes? You don’t even go out.”

  “Shoes are my personal weakness aside from donuts and the taste of you.” Pat holds out a winter coat, which I let him put on. I shuddered when he brushed his fingers over my shoulders, bringing me close and nuzzling my neck. It doesn’t escape me it’s a kind of shifter gesture, but the rough bristles of his jaw brushing against my smooth skin don’t feel unpleasant.

  “I’ll let my chef know to prepare dinner for two. I understand burger and fries are your favorite,” Pat whispered against my ear.