Becoming His Mate: Douglas Mountain Shifters (Fountain of Love)

by Lillian Danté

  "You mean I don't smell like tires?"

  "You absolutely do," he said, his eyes sparkling. "But I like it."

  Swallowing hard, I jostled my arm a little. He was still holding on, but he didn't seem too inclined to let go.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and sat back, letting me go. It was like he'd just realized what he was doing. After all this time, I couldn't believe how easy it was to slip right back into flirting with him. But I had to put a stop to it.

  "It sure beats smelling like fry oil," I said. "And those were basically my only two options. So, you know. I learned a thing or two about lug nuts, and now I answer Joe's phones. There are definitely worse jobs out there."

  "Absolutely," he said. "You don't happen to know if he's hiring, do you?" There was that sparkle again. Was he joking?

  "Doubt it," I said. I couldn't imagine working in close quarters with Cole. I'd go insane. "Besides, you have to be certified. Occasionally changing a tire doesn't count."

  "Hey," said Cole, stretching his legs out in front of him, and interlacing his hands behind his head. "For all you know, I went to trade school while I was away."

  "But you didn't," I said. "Did you?"

  "Nah." He leaned his head back. "But I always felt like I'd make a good mechanic."

  "Well, rebuilding an engine requires something more than 'feelings,' I think." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly chilled. "But I'm sure you can find work around here. Even if it does involve fry oil."

  "Those sound like tomorrow's worries," he said. "For now, I'm just glad to be back."

  I was afraid to ask him how long he was planning to stay. I was afraid to ask him much of anything. Especially the questions I most wanted the answers to.

  "Tomorrow's worries," I repeated. "Your grandma used to say that, didn't she?"

  "She sure did." He smiled, wistfully. "That, and - 'you'll always regret the things you didn't do, more than the things you did.'"

  "I'm not sure I believe that one," I said. "As much as I hate to contradict her."

  He looked at me. "My grandma was always right," he said, firmly. "And she was right about that, too."

  So you don't regret leaving.

  I didn't dare ask. I couldn't afford to seem like I still cared.

  "It's hard to believe that applies to you at all," I said, leaning back on the sofa. "Seems like you always did exactly what you wanted."

  "No," he said, still looking at me. My throat went a little dry. "Not always. Not even half the time."

  Forcing a laugh, I let my eyes drift over to him again. "So, this is Cole Jackman reigning in his impulses? Holy shit. I don't want to know what the real you is like."

  "Trust me," he said, his voice suddenly a low growl that made goosebumps rise all over my body. "You really don't."

  I laughed again, loudly, to dispel the tension in the air. But he was still looking at me, with a stare even more intense than usual. I shivered, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. "Little chilly in here, isn't it?" I said, not really expecting an answer.

  "Go on," he said, his voice still low. "Ask me what I regret. I can tell you want to."

  Shrugging uncomfortably, I drew my legs up to the sofa and folded them under me. "You obviously want to tell me," I said. "So do I need to ask?"

  "Yeah," he said, nodding slowly. "You need to ask."

  I licked my lips. In the corner, a very old wall clock ticked loudly. It was just out of reach, above the kitchen counter - impossible for me to get to, without climbing up on said counter, which was always cluttered with too many appliances that I never used. So the clock stayed, annoying ticking sound and all, while I waited for the battery to die.

  I'd been waiting for an awfully long time now.

  The air was thick with anticipation. I understood implicitly what he meant. If I asked, that was permission. Permission to stop pretending we didn't want each other. To my humiliation, I realized that my eyes must have been filled with longing. I hadn't hidden my feelings well at all. Stupid me, I'd thought I could do it. But he knew. He always knew.

  His eyes, on the other hand, were just hungry.

  But he wasn't going to give in. Not unless I wanted him to.

  "Do you regret leaving?"

  It was a compromise. Not the question he wanted me to ask, but I wasn't going to keep pretending.

  Cole let out a small, frustrated sigh. "Yes," he said. "But not half as much as I regret that day we met up behind the school after fifth period."

  He said: "Do you remember?"

  I did.

  The feeling of the late summer sun on my skin, Cole in his hand-me-down Nirvana shirt and camo pants. Even back then, he had that persistent stubble, shadowing his face. Everybody else left when the bell rang, but we didn't.

  "I should've kissed you then," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "I don't know why I didn't."

  My hands were clenched tightly in my lap. I couldn't look at him. "Cause you knew better," I said.

  "Nah." He'd slid closer, somehow, without me noticing. But I noticed now. I could feel the heat of his body. "Something tells me that's not why."

  I looked up, finally. His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, and he smiled.

  This was my last chance to reclaim my sanity.

  Come on, grown-up-Heather. The train is leaving the station. You better push him away now. Otherwise…

  I kissed him.

  With a soft growl, he leaned into it, curling his tongue into my half-open mouth. His hand splayed on the side of my neck, holding me in place - as if I would go anywhere. As if I could.

  I rose up, lifting my knee over his lap and straddling him as we parted briefly for air. He grasped my hips and stood, carrying me with my legs wrapped around his waist, until we reached my bed. He dropped me there gently, laughing a little, and crawled on top of me, to begin methodically stripping off the clothes I'd put on such a short time ago.

  I lay still and let him do this, peeling back the layers until I was naked, silently worshipping my oh-so-neglected body with his eyes and his hands. But it wasn't long before I needed to see him too, and I helped him pull off his borrowed shirt and pants so I could admire every angle and plane and taut muscle of the man he'd become.

  And that was the moment I lost myself to him, letting his fingers stroke me through bliss, shattering to pieces under his touch. He just smiled for a long time, planting little kisses on my face, until my breathing started to slow down.

  "You're so beautiful," he said, with a sense of awe in his voice that I didn't miss. "I could just watch you all night."

  I smiled. "I don't remember you being this patient."

  "Course I wasn't," he chuckled. "I was eighteen. It's hard to relax and enjoy the scenery when you're sporting a hard-on 24/7."

  Giggling, I lifted myself up on my elbow. "I feel like I would've remembered that."

  "I got pretty good at hiding it," he said. "Until you didn't want me to."

  Remember our first time?

  I blinked. He must have spoken out loud, because I heard his voice, but at the same time, it seemed like it was coming out of my own head. I must be more delirious from my orgasm than I thought.

  But of course, I remembered. It was sweaty and awkward and passionate and perfect, just like everyone's first time should be. He hated hurting me, but I urged him on, loving the warm glow that came from us being connected so intimately.

  It was a different kind of pleasure for me, no toe-curling climax, just a feeling of rightness and the sense that he was meant to fill me up like that. He was always very concerned that I couldn't come that way, but I never cared. It wasn't like he didn't find other ways to pleasure me.

  Cole's hand slid partially under my neck, cupping me possessively, his thumb stroking my pulse point as he kissed me, long and slow. He pressed his body up against me, letting his hardness nudge at my still-sensitive entrance. I moaned into his mouth and tried to hook my leg over his hip, but he stilled me with his hand,
sliding it down from my neck to my thigh.

  "Not yet," he murmured, when he broke away for air. "I want to try something else with you. I've been thinking about it for ten years."

  I had to giggle again, to hide the shiver that went through me. "You're ridiculous," I said. But I didn't protest when he got to his feet and grabbed my hand, pulling me up. I looked at him curiously, his wicked smile making me throb for his touch all over again.

  He pointed at the full-length mirror next to my dresser. "Anybody ever fuck you in front of that?" His voice rumbled low and enticing, and there was only the slightest hint of jealousy in his question. Just enough to make my heart twinge.

  No, never. Nobody's fucked me anywhere. Not since you.

  I'd had encounters, of course, but they never went that far. Guys never seemed to mind where they got their rocks off, as long as they did it somewhere. I always meant to let it happen, to let some other man wipe the memory of Cole from my body, but I never could. When the time came, it always felt wrong.

  And now, I was finally going to let it happen - with the one guy I'd never wanted to see again.

  "No," I said, finally.

  "I'm going to," he murmured, pressing up against my back, circling his arms around me from behind. His cock pulsed against my lower back, a searing heat on my skin. "I'm going to look into your eyes while you watch me fucking you. I'm going to see my cock sliding into your pussy. I'll be able to see every part of your body reacting to me, and you won't be able to hide anything. How does that sound, Sunshine?"

  I was hot all over, my face burning, my body shuddering at the image in my mind. He never talked like that when we were teenagers. Nobody had ever talked to me like that.

  Sunshine. That was the name he'd used for me back when we were just stupid, crazy kids in love. I remembered it very well - the conversation we had, where I complained that there are no good nicknames for Heather. He ran through a ridiculous list of things he might call me, and finally settled on Sunshine. When I pointed out that it wasn't any shorter than Heather, he just laughed and kissed the tip of my nose.

  He was a different man now. He was a man, period. And I'd never felt more like a woman than I did in that moment, feeling him breathe against me while he waited for an answer.

  "That sounds good," I whispered, punctuating with a gasp when I felt the heavy twitch against my back. Just my response was enough to make him even harder.

  He pulled back a little, laying his hands on my shoulders and steering me over to the mirror. I looked into his eyes for as long as I could stand it, letting their fierce blue glint penetrate everything I'd tried to hide from him. All the feelings I wanted to deny. The longing I still felt for him, every day.

  My own reflection was hardly recognizable. My hair was wild, my lips swollen and parted to allow for each heavy breath. As my chest rose and fell, it was impossible not to notice how stiff my nipples had grown.

  Cole lifted each of my hands, planting them firmly on the wall on either side of the mirror.

  "Step back." He gripped my hips, firmly, pulling me towards him. "Step back and spread your legs for me, baby."

  I was completely under his spell, following his orders, curving my back and presenting myself to him. He made a low noise of appreciation, stroking one hip lightly when I was right where he wanted me.

  "Perfect," he whispered, his blunt hardness pressing urgently, breaching me open, stretching and sliding in endlessly. I let out a ragged moan, my lower back curving even more sharply to meet him, inviting him in deep enough to nudge my core. An intense shiver of pleasure mingled with pain, and I clutched hard at the wall.

  "You're so tight," he panted in my ear, as I felt him stiffen and swell inside me. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

  I let out a huff of laughter. "You have no idea how long," I whispered, raising my head to look at him in the mirror. His eyes were dark and feral, and somehow that made me want him even more.

  His hand snaked around my chest, lightly stroking each nipple with the side of his thumb, just enough to make me shiver. Then, he slid down my stomach, his hand stopping just above where we were joined.

  "Look." His teeth scraped against my earlobe. "Look at us, Sunshine."

  I looked.

  It was beautifully obscene. I had to drag my eyes back up to my own face, and higher, to his, looming over my shoulder, to convince myself it was real. It was really us, our bodies, our fucking souls -

  No. No. No. I couldn't let this become more than it was. A purely physical encounter, getting ten years' worth of pent-up desires out of our systems.

  I wasn't fooling anyone, least of all myself.

  As he moved inside of me, one arm holding me steady, he slid his other hand along my shoulder, up my arm, until his hand covered mine against the wall. Slowly, he interlaced his fingers with mine.

  I couldn't look at him anymore. Letting my neck go loose, I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against the cool glass.

  Cole let out a low growl. The hand that was resting on my stomach shot upwards, grabbing my chin and lifting my head up.

  "Look at me." His grip was firm, but not quite enough to hurt. I let my eyes flick up to his briefly, but it was too much. Too much, too soon, after nine and a half years of nothing but memories. Nine and half years of trying to forget.

  He let go of my chin a moment later and slid his hand back down the front of my body, stopping where we were joined, pressing his fingers gently against my over-sensitized flesh. I hissed, rocking forward, feeling the protesting tug of his hardness inside me as I did. I rocked backwards to accommodate it, and he rewarded me with a firm finger circling my clit.

  Eyes hazy, heartbeat thudding in my ears, I stared at him in the mirror. Before, I couldn't look. Now, I couldn't look away. His face showed everything. He was captivated, enraptured, losing himself in me, but with a hard edge of hunger and the desire to possess. I had never seen this side of him before. I'd never known that I wanted to.

  "Take it, baby," he panted in my ear, his thrusts growing faster, more erratic. "Take it. You're mine."

  I exploded. Crying out wordlessly as my body snapped to a taut bow and then sagged, I tried to hold myself upright. Without Cole's strong arm around me, I would have failed. Shuddering pleasure overtook me. When I was able to raise my head again, trembling all over, I realized Cole wasn't finished. His cock still twitched and throbbed inside me, and his jaw was clenched with the effort of holding back.

  "You ready?" he whispered.

  I wanted to say something cheeky. What if I wasn't? He clearly couldn't hold out for much longer.

  But all I did was nod, weakly.

  "Tell me you want it," he growled. "Tell me."

  I swallowed thickly. "I want it."

  "Tell me you've been thinking about it since the day we met." His voice was dark and commanding. The instant he said it, it became true - and I couldn't remember if it was before or not. It didn't matter. It was true now.

  "I have," I whispered.

  He nibbled at the back of my neck, his arm holding me steady for a few more shallow thrusts. He halted deep inside me. A soft noise escaped from the back of his throat.

  "Tell…me…" he breathed, and I could feel every muscle of his body clenching, on the verge of climax. "Tell me what you want. Say the words."

  "I want…I need…" My breath came out in sobs. "I need you to come inside me."

  He growled, his eyes going hazy, hips jerking a frantic rhythm as he spilled deep inside me, just like I'd wanted. Little shudders of pleasure went through me, almost as if I was feeling tiny aftershocks of his climax.

  I sagged, exhausted, relying even more on his grip to hold me, but I could feel his muscles start to tremble. Neither of us moved for a few moments, breathing harshly, still connected in the most intimate possible way.

  Finally, he slipped out of me and stepped back, giving me some room to right myself. The mirror was fogged with our breath, and I couldn't see my face. That was probably
just as well.

  Exhaustion crept in, and my eyelids were so heavy I almost didn't bother going into the bathroom to clean up. But I couldn't abide sticky sheets, so I managed - only just, before stumbling into bed and crawling under the covers. Cole was already there, his eyes closed, and it seemed so right I didn't even question it.

  "Missed you, Sunshine," he mumbled, as I slung my arm around his torso.

  "Mhmm," I managed to respond, before sleep took over.

  Chapter Three

  When I woke up in the morning, Cole was gone.

  I don't know why that surprised me. At first, I really considered that I might have dreamed it all. But then my eyes drifted to his borrowed clothes, still lying in a lump at the foot of my bed. And my body slowly became aware of the ache between my legs, and the twinge of pain in my lower back, and there was really no doubt.

  He's gone.

  Disappointment coursed through my veins like poison. Did he just come back to convince himself he could still have me? Did he get off on the knowledge that I was wrapped so tightly around his little finger, even after all these years? I didn't resist him, not even for a moment. When he looked at me with those fuck-me eyes, it was like I became a different person.

  A much less sensible person.

  As I walked to the bathroom, something caught the corner of my eye. It looked like there was something on the fridge - something that didn't belong.

  A piece of paper, maybe.

  A note.

  I forced myself not to run and look. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and stared at myself in the mirror until my heart stopped pounding.

  I don't care. I don't care. I really, really don't care.

  Finally, I walked out to the kitchen.

  It was a note, written on the back of a pizza coupon flyer. I recognized Cole's handwriting immediately. It was somehow both swooping and jagged, just like it had been in high school.

  Heather,

  Sorry, I didn't want to wake you. Thanks for everything. I'd love to go for a hike today and catch up some more, if you're not busy. Call me.