Angel_Rochon Bears

by Moxie North

  When he did, Angel moved his presence back into his own body. The hair receded, his body straightened as his bear stepped back from the controls.

  He got dressed and hopped back into his truck. Pushing aside some of the scraps of paper that he’d written lyrics on, he grabbed one from the top and read it. No matter how dark, you’ll always be my light. I can stand the blackness if you’re by my side. It’s like he’d been writing for Becca except he didn’t know her when the words came to him. Was this a sign from the fates?

  Checking the time, he saw that his mom might still be awake. He headed home hoping to talk to her.

  When he pulled up, he saw there were still lights on in the house. He came through the back door and went into the kitchen and through to the living room where he found his mom and his dad sitting in their recliners watching the evening news.

  “Hey, son. You been out partying?”

  Snorting Angel replied, “Yeah dad, I was gettin' down over at Eddie’s house. Talia and I played peek-a-boo, and Dash learned some new swear words. I’m livin’ large.”

  “Angel Rochon, don’t you dare teach my grandbaby to swear. Bad enough you were dropping the f-bomb in kindergarten. I’ve never been able to live down the shame.”

  His mom had been a school teacher, so there was never a chance he could hide any schoolyard indiscretions from his parents. His dad was always more lenient when he got into trouble. Joe Rochon figured he was a hell-raiser, and he would grow out of it.

  He wasn’t sure he had.

  “Honey, there are some leftovers in the fridge. I made enchiladas,” his mom called out.

  Angel stopped by the kitchen and served himself up a big plate of food, not bothering to heat it.

  He took it to the living room and sat down on the couch and started eating. His parents were quiet; the news from the television softly filling the room with the nightly updates from Seattle. Finishing up, he set the plate down and sat back.

  “So you gonna tell us what’s wrong?” his dad asked.

  Turning to see both of his parents looking at him, he tried to read just how much they knew.

  Sighing, he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.

  “I’m just having a little trouble figuring something out. I was getting Eddie’s opinion.”

  “You asked your brother for advice?” By the tone of his mother’s voice, she was obviously shocked.

  “Well, it was in his field of expertise,” he replied, hoping his parents would think it was about something medical.

  There was a pause as his parents continued to stare at him. Angel started to get uncomfortable. This was their way of getting him to confess when he was younger. It rarely worked on Angel, although Eddie would cough up the truth after just a few minutes.

  “Son, it couldn’t be anything to do with the fact you’ve found your mate, is it?”

  Angel should have fucking known.

  “How did you know?”

  “Dash called to say goodnight and told us that you had been over and that your mate didn’t like you. He thinks you should just get her flowers and tell her she’s pretty, by the way. You might want to take his advice,” his mom said.

  “Fuck me.” Angel dropped his head into his hands.

  “Language,” his dad said gruffly.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he said with a muffled voice behind his hands.

  “I got the sense that things aren’t going that well?” she asked softly.

  “No, no they are not going well at all. She’s older than me and won’t even give me the time to let her get to know me.”

  There was no response from his parents. He glanced up, “What, no advice?”

  “We’re thinking,” his father said, answering for both of them.

  “I—uh—spent the night with her. Then when I saw her the next day, I realized she was my mate. After that, she didn’t want to see me. She didn’t come to work the next day, and her friend said she was home sick. I showed up, and she let me take care of her for a while. But the last few days she’s been avoiding me.”

  His mother shook her head at him. He could see the resolve on her face that was the foreshadowing of a speech about responsibility or poor choices. His mother loved him, he knew, but she also could see past his handsome face to the dumbass underneath.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “Leave it up to you to screw a girl that was your mate, without knowing she was your One.”

  “Thanks for that. Honestly, Mom, I’m not surprised. I’ve decided this whole week is the fates paying me back big time.”

  “Angel, that is not how the fates work. They want you happy, and they want you well mated. There is something you are missing here. The fates wouldn’t have picked her for you unless she was exactly what you needed. In turn, there is something about you that is what she needs. You need to figure out what that is and make sure she gets it.”

  Sandy Rochon was smart, wicked smart. Angel had been trying to show her what he could be instead of what he already was. There wasn’t anything about her that he would change, so why would the fates pick a girl that wanted him to change who he was?

  “That makes sense, Mom. Really, it does.”

  “I’ve been known to get it right every once in a while.”

  His mother was just being humble. She was usually right, and only a fool wouldn’t listen to her.

  “I think I know what to do,” Angel said.

  “Good. As soon as she doesn’t think you’re a schmuck anymore, bring her over for dinner,” his father decreed.

  Jumping up, he gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll meet her before the week is out,” he promised.

  Chapter 33

  The desire to call in sick was so strong, Becca had to rush through her morning routine to keep herself from picking up the phone and making excuses to miss work.

  She kept to her normal route and stopped for coffee. Her barista was obnoxiously chipper for someone that had already been up for a number of hours. She was obviously sampling her own wares.

  Becca arrived at work and couldn’t help but scan the parking lot for any trucks that had the Rochon name on them. The lot was mostly empty, so she felt confident parking and walking in.

  Her day passed somewhat quickly. Every time she was called out front, she would get a strange mix of terror and excitement. When her appointments turned out not to be Angel Rochon, she had to reconcile the feelings of disappointment. She was so confused that after the disappointment had faded, her common sense would kick in and remind her that she didn’t want to see him.

  Sybil kept her distance, though she stalked around like a cat looking for attention. Becca knew she wasn’t hiding her turmoil well. Her ability to maintain a shockingly boring life was a constant in the office. Now she was not acting like herself and it felt like all eyes were on her, judging. That was probably all in her head, but she figured throwing in a pinch of paranoia when she was already confused felt right.

  As she had lain awake the previous night, as she pushed away direct thoughts of him, there was a truth she couldn’t deny. For some reason, she felt lonelier the last few days than she had in a long while. Lonely was a relative term when you were single as long as she had been. Family and friends kept you active and involved but having someone truly be there for you was what kept the real loneliness at bay.

  Angel had wiggled his way into her life in a few short days.

  She fucking missed him.

  It was a bitter pill to swallow that someone that was a one-night stand could make such a ripple in her smooth life. But it was still true. The physical ease of having him near was soothing, and there was a part of her that craved that comfort.

  The fact that she wanted that feeling back wasn’t the bad thing. The bad thing was she wasn’t sure how she was going to go on without it now that she’d pushed Angel away.

  Alicia was nice to her and took her out to a fatty fast food lunch. It was a temporary fix to her unsettled state.
r />   As they sat in front of their guacamole burgers, Becca could feel Alicia gearing up.

  “So you got yourself into it, didn’t you?”

  Becca swallowed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m quite talented. I didn’t plan on this, you know.”

  “I know, but you’re in it and you need to figure you what you are going to do. That man has it bad for you, and why wouldn’t he? You’re gorgeous, you have your own home, a rocking ass, and you’re friendly as shit. Which, by the way, is unnatural.”

  “I learned my lesson with Brian. Why do you think I focused just being happy alone? I don’t pick well. I see things that aren’t there. Angel may be handsome and from a good family, but that is no guarantee that he won’t break my heart. Why can’t it be easy? There should be a dating site that tells you what a man will be like in ten years time. Whether or not he’ll develop a love of miniature train building or decide to have an early midlife crisis. I know it shouldn’t matter if he’s the one, but I’m so afraid of change. Or maybe that isn’t even it. I’m afraid he won’t change. I’ve never been with anyone that changed in a good way. They either stood still or changed for the worse.”

  Alicia snorted, “Model trains?”

  “What? They seem time consuming and expensive.”

  “No doubt, but there isn’t a site like that because people change. You changed. You’re not the same person that you were with asshole Brian. Angel is going to change too. We all do. If we didn’t life would get boring. The whole point is to find someone that will adjust and grow with you. That is a good relationship. When you’re weird, they’re weird. They laugh at your bad jokes out of obligation. They love you so much, that when you get home and throw off your bra, they think your saggy boobs are adorable and you look past their smelly feet in return.”

  “That sounds charming. I’ve never met a man that wanted to spend enough time with me to even change! They were the same winners that I met in the first place. I thought I could change them, smooth out their rough edges.”

  “You can’t change someone, sweetie. Your job is to love the changes they make.”

  Becca thought it sounded easy but knew humans were tricky and emotional. They wanted people to accept them but often didn’t accept others. Becca thought she was better than that. She accepted everyone and her judgment of Angel based on age wasn’t fair.

  “You are very wise, Yoda,” Becca admitted.

  “I am, and modest too,” Alicia said, biting into her burger.

  The afternoon wore on, and when it was quitting time, she was surprised he hadn’t shown up. He’d done what she suggested. He’d moved on.

  This should have made her happy. Her life could go back to normal. Except normal didn’t sound so great anymore. Gathering her things, she called out her goodbyes as she left.

  Her car was parked alone; no one else around her. No one waited for her.

  Driving home, she thought about maybe going to a movie so she wouldn’t have to be home alone and decided against it. Her plants needed watering, and clean clothes would be nice. Her laundry had been piling up since before her headache last week.

  Pulling into her driveway, she checked her mail and looked up and down her street. All normal and quiet. No unusual vehicles parked nearby.

  She went inside and changed out of her work clothes into a pair of leggings and a trapeze style tank top. Becca started her laundry and changed the sheets on her bed. Figuring her fast food lunch was enough for the day, she threw a low-calorie frozen dinner into the microwave. As she watched it spin, her mind wandered again.

  Deciding that she also deserved a beer, she grabbed a cold Pyramid IPA out of the fridge and gathered her meal. Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, and something that looked a little like gravy.

  Settling herself down on her couch, she flipped on the TV and checked her DVR. There were three saved shows, so she picked the first thing that was listed.

  Becca was halfway through finding out who was going on to the final round of the singing competition when her doorbell rang.

  Her brain had shifted into mush mode as she watched, so it didn’t immediately assume it could be Angel. He wasn’t going to show up again, and now he would just be a fun memory.

  Pausing her show, she took another swig of beer and went to answer the door. Pulling it open, she expected to see some Girl Scouts or a window salesman.

  It was someone trying to sell her something. Someone trying to sell her the impossible.

  Angel Rochon.

  “Angel, what the—” She didn’t get anything else out as he stepped into her house and pushed her up against the wall.

  Angel kicked the door closed with his boot. “Hush, Becks. Not tonight. I don’t want to hear why we shouldn’t be together, or why I should move on. Let me have you tonight.”

  Becca panted in shock. He was there, and his strong muscled body was pressed up against hers. Her breasts smashed up against his hard chest. She could feel his erection against her stomach.

  “You—” she tried to start talking. She needed to tell him he shouldn’t be here. That she was giving him the space to forget her. Instead of speaking, Angel brought his mouth down on hers. His lips forcing hers open, and the second she gave in, their tongues started battling.

  Becca moaned into his mouth as he kissed her deeper, wetter. Angel’s kisses weren’t a side thought. They were a main act if he wanted them to be. Drawing out her attention and her senses to his dominating kiss.

  “No talking unless it’s to tell me you want more,” he said when he broke the kiss. He gave her less than a second to respond and was kissing her again.

  Becca wanted to tell him to stop. That he should leave and never come back. But she couldn’t. Her body responded to him like they had practiced this maneuver a million times. Her nipples puckered and rubbed against her shirt. Her pussy was already wet, and her clit was trying to seek contact with anything to give it the friction it needed. All from his kiss.

  Chapter 34

  Angel knew it was a risk, showing up at her door after she’d gone to the lengths of not returning home the last few days. But he was trusting, not only his own instincts, but the fates plan for him. Becca had responded to him in bed like they were perfect for each other. Which they were. That meant she liked it when he took control and gave her what she needed. So why wouldn’t the same work for the rest of their relationship?

  There was a chance this could make everything worse, and he was prepared for that. Plan B would be to explain to her about shifters and that his devotion to her wasn’t fleeting and wasn’t just sexual. That was the back-up plan. What he wanted was for her to accept him as the man she could trust.

  Angel continued kissing her and waited to see if she was going to push him away, yell at him, or kick him out.

  She didn’t. His Becks was too busy kissing him back to do any of those things.

  Taking another chance, he kept his mouth on hers as he slowly moved her down the hallway toward her bedroom. He broke the kiss for a moment to remove her shirt and then had his mouth sealed back over hers before she could figure out they’d stopped kissing.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra, and this gave Angel easy access to engulf her breasts with his hands. They were just big enough to be a little more than he could hold. If anything it spoke to how perfect she was for him, it was that everything about her was a little too much. Just like Angel lived his life. Too much, too big, and too reckless.

  His mate moaned into his mouth. She arched her back against his hands, and her steps backward were sure and fast. She wanted to get to her bedroom as much as he did.

  That made his bear roar with happiness in his mind. She might want to rationalize away their relationship, but she couldn’t deny their chemistry.

  Her bed was freshly made, and Angel got her up to the edge then gave her a little shove. He watched as she fell back, and she looked up at him. Her chest was rising and falling. Her mouth glistened from his kiss.

  “Angel
—”

  “Shh—”

  Angel reached for her waistband and started to slide her pants down her legs. He left her white panties with the little roses on. She looked beautiful laying there, big eyes staring up at him, her hair splayed out on the bed.

  He gave her a hard stare that made it clear she wasn’t supposed to move, and he strode to her dresser. Pulling open the top drawers, he dug around until he found what he was looking for.

  Returning to her with thigh high stockings in his hand, he watched her hold a leg out to him. She thought he was going to have her wear them. That was cute.

  Reaching under her arms, he pulled her higher on the bed, resting her head on a pillow.

  Kissing her hard, he slid one hand down her arm until he had her wrist firmly grasped in his hand. It was wrapped in the stocking and attached to the bedframe before Becca could figure out what he was doing.

  “I don’t think—” she started. His finger came down on her lips, and he leaned down to look her in the eye.

  “Don’t think,” he whispered.

  “Okie doke,” she whispered back.

  Angel got her other arm tied to the bed slats, and his mouth was on her nipple by the time Becca even attempted to test her bonds. They were tight, but the soft fabric wouldn’t cause her any harm.

  “My girl, so pretty tied up. You trust me, don’t you, Becks?” Angel swiped his tongue out over the already wet, rigid peak.

  Becca didn’t want to fight him. She felt good, and that aching spot in her chest from earlier was gone. When he walked through the door, it felt like he belonged there. He was asking if she trusted him. She did in all things except one. She trusted that he’d bring her pleasure, that he could take away some of the loneliness. But there was no sure way to know if she could trust him with her future.

  “Yes, I trust you. With this.” She couldn’t help but put that disclaimer on the end. She saw his eyes flicker for a moment. He caught it and its meaning.