by Lynn Hagen
He had to do a lot of readjusting since Blake was a good nine or ten inches taller than him. When he started the SUV, Fisher’s heart thundered and he couldn’t stop smiling.
Fisher looked over at Blake and saw him watching him. “What?”
“I’m sometimes blown away by how lucky I got and how truly beautiful you are. Inside and out. You’re excited about driving, and seeing that look on your face, I’m mesmerized with you.”
What was Fisher supposed to say to that? Heat crept over his face as he winked. “The feeling is mutual.”
Now was the time to tell Blake that he loved him. It was the perfect opening and opportunity, but when Fisher opened his mouth, nothing came out.
“I already know.” Blake leaned over and kissed Fisher’s cheek. “The words will come when you’re ready.”
A burning lump formed in Fisher’s throat. He desperately wanted to tell Blake how he felt and was angry that he couldn’t make himself say the words.
“Let’s hit the road,” Blake said. “Just don’t run over any animals or hit a mailbox.”
Fisher scoffed. “I’m an excellent driver.”
He backed out the driveway and cut the wheel, going too far and hitting the curb across the street, making them bounce and nearly smacking into a tree on the tree lawn.
Blake gave a small growl. The guy was not impressed with Fisher’s driving.
“It’s coming back to me,” Fisher said as he put the SUV into Drive. “Just give me a second to get the feel of this again.”
“I should’ve included curbs and trees when I told you what not to hit.” Blake pulled his seat belt on and clicked it into place. “Since you’re that rusty, drive slow.”
“I got this.” Fisher held up a hand. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Then put that hand back on the steering wheel.”
Fisher wanted to laugh. Blake appeared comfortable slouched in his seat, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.
When Fisher pulled into the slotted parking spot in front of the diner, he smiled like an idiot. “See, piece of cake.”
“I’m driving on the way back,” Blake muttered as they got out. He noticed his mate looking around, and now Fisher was doing it. He no longer thought John was in his white BMW. No one had seen the car, but Fisher’s ex sure as shit had been in town. Fisher had looked right in John’s face when he’d shot Blake. There was no mistake. It was him.
Blake walked up behind Fisher and massaged his shoulders in a playful manner, but Fisher loved when his mate touched him. He loved everything about Blake. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
With one last look up and down the streets, they went inside.
Fisher might’ve been terrified of John, and part of him still was, but John had tried to kill Blake. If John showed his face again, Fisher prayed he had enough backbone to stand up to the guy once and for all because Fisher wasn’t playing around when it came to Blake. The bear shifter had come to mean the world to him, and no one, not even John, would take Blake away from him.
Chapter Ten
After dinner they’d gone to see a movie. Blake loved how excited Fisher had been, babbling on about how it had been forever since he’d gone to the movies. His mate had ordered buttered popcorn, a large drink, and enough candy to keep a dentist in business.
Just because they were mated didn’t mean Blake couldn’t take Fisher out on dates. He planned on doing that a lot, especially if Fisher got that excited over things most people took for granted.
Like handholding and stolen kisses. Fisher seemed to eat all that up. Now they were on their way home. Blake was tired and looked forward to snuggling on the couch with his mate. It was the little things that mattered, and Blake loved doing simple things that made a spark flare in Fisher’s eyes.
He was rubbing the back of Fisher’s neck as he drove, smiling that his mate shivered at his touch. Blake planned on spoiling Fisher rotten with affection and attention.
When they pulled into the driveway and got out, Blake pulled Fisher to his chest. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“Me, too.” Fisher sighed as he rested his head on Blake’s chest, as if it was the only place he wanted to be. The trust he gave Blake without hesitation said a lot considering Fisher’s past. His mate had come a long way in conquering his fears, and Blake couldn’t be more proud of him.
“Let’s get inside.” He took Fisher’s hand and led him to the front door, using his key to unlock it and walk inside.
“Why don’t you go grab us something to drink and I’ll find something on the television to watch,” Blake said.
With a nod, Fisher walked away. Blake went for the remote but paused when he heard a gasp. The noise hadn’t been loud, and he wouldn’t have been able to hear it at all if he hadn’t had superior hearing.
His bear snarled as Blake moved slowly toward the kitchen. “Grab me a bottle of water,” he hollered, acting as if he wasn’t on full alert. Blake was waiting for Fisher’s response, to hear the tone of his voice.
“Okay.”
There was a definite note of fear in Fisher’s tone. The word had come out wobbly and a bit strained. Blake had declined Arturo’s request to keep an eye on the house. The cops were already doing that, and his friend had a life. Blake hadn’t wanted him babysitting them. Not when Blake could handle himself against one human.
Now he wished he’d taken Arturo up on his offer. If John was in the kitchen, that meant he’d snuck in under the cover of darkness. Blake cursed, wishing he’d done a sweep of the house before they’d relaxed.
It had been only a week since John had shot him, and Blake shouldn’t have allowed himself to be so complacent after their date that he’d forgotten about the threat.
He stepped into the kitchen archway and snarled. John had his arm around Fisher’s shoulders while holding a gun to Fisher’s head.
“Release him and I’ll make your death quick,” Blake said in a low, deadly voice. “It’s my only offer, so you better take it.”
“He doesn’t belong to you,” John argued.
Blake didn’t like how calm John was. If he’d been out of control, shouting, and waving his gun around, Blake could’ve handled that. But his quiet reserve worried Blake.
“Fisher doesn’t belong to anyone,” Blake replied as he held his hands up, palms out. “He’s his own man and can chose who he wants to be with.”
That was partially true. Fate had given Fisher to Blake, and anyone dumb enough to try and take Fisher away from him was asking to be killed. But it was a mutual feeling. Blake knew Fisher loved him. The emotions were always in his eyes, in how he looked at Blake, how he talked to him and how he touched him.
And Blake was just as crazy for Fisher. He couldn’t even think about a day without his mate in his life.
“He has no say in this.” John curled his lip. “He’s a puppet, and I’m the one who pulls his strings. Not you or anyone else. You had no right taking him away from me.”
Fisher hadn’t moved. He hadn’t said a word the entire time, and Blake saw the terror in his mate’s green eyes. He never wanted to see that look in Fisher’s eyes again.
With a snarl, Blake advanced. He knew John wasn’t going to shoot Fisher. He wanted Fisher back too badly. And Blake had been right. John whipped the gun out and pointed it at him, but Blake was too angry to stop.
Fisher blinked several times. “No, don’t shoot him!”
Blake shifted into his bear. Fisher elbowed John in the gut then turned around and kicked him right between the legs. Unfortunately John had gotten a shot off before he cupped himself. Blake felt the burning pain in his shoulder but kept going as John backhanded Fisher so hard that Fisher flew against the wall.
John turned his attention back to Blake, staring wide-eyed at him. He started firing his gun, some bullets impacting Blake, some missing. Blake felt his steps faltering as he reared back to attack.
John tried to fire again, but the gun just clicked. He was out o
f ammo. He tossed the gun and ran for the back door. Blake felt himself weakening from the blood loss but was determined to end the threat.
He stumbled, almost making it to John before he collapsed. Blake tried to force himself to his feet, tried to get to Fisher who wasn’t moving, but he lost the battle.
John stopped and looked down at him. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you’re not so tough anymore, are you?”
Blake snarled when John reached for Fisher. If he got out of there with Fisher, Blake would never see his mate again. John would make sure of that.
When he grabbed Fisher off the floor and pulled him up, Blake watched in shock and amazement as Fisher fought back. He kicked and punched, twisting his body around as John tried to drag him out of the back door.
John slugged Fisher a few times, making his mate dazed enough that his coordination faltered. He floundered around but missed when he tried to elbow John.
“Blake!” Fisher cried out. “Blake, please get up!”
Fisher rammed his foot against John’s then threw his head back, connecting the back of his head to John’s face. John released Fisher as he howled, then he backhanded him so hard that Fisher crumpled.
Blake had no idea where he got his burst of energy, but he lunged, clamping his jaw down on John’s thigh. He held on for dear life as John fought to get free.
The back door flew open, and Arturo stepped in. “Heard the ruckus from the driveway,” he said.
Right before Blake’s eyes, Arturo shifted into his lion and attacked. The lion took the human down to the floor and roared in John’s face, as if daring him to move.
Blake struggled across the room, using what little energy he had to get to his feet. Arturo moved back. Blake snarled.
John started shouting as he shoved to his feet. He spun, ready to run again, but Blake and Arturo took John down, killing him.
Blake fell back to the floor.
“Rest,” Arturo said when he shifted back. “You need to heal. I’ll take the trash out and tend to your mate until you wake up.”
Putting his trust in Arturo’s hands, Blake closed his eyes, thankful he had such a damn good friend and that this was finally over. He reached a paw out and touched Fisher’s leg. Blake needed to touch something on his mate, to feel the connection, to reassure himself that everything was going to be okay.
He loved Fisher with all his heart. His mate had battled his way from an abused, frightened, and unsure guy to a strong man who had embraced life and learned how to love and trust again.
If all that had happened in two weeks, Blake couldn’t wait to see what a lifetime together would do for Fisher. For the both of them.
Arturo bent and checked Fisher. “He has a strong pulse.”
Relief flooded Blake. He hadn’t wanted to close his eyes until he knew his mate was okay.
Fisher stirred. “Blake,” he murmured. “Blake.”
“He’s right here,” Arturo said. Blake didn’t like the fact that his friend was naked when he lifted Fisher but was grateful when Arturo placed Fisher right next to him.
“Blake,” Fisher whimpered and curled himself into Blake’s fur.
Now Blake could rest knowing that his mate was no worse for wear. He had bruising on his face, and he winched when he moved, but those wounds would heal.
“I love you,” Fisher said as he threw his arm around Blake’s hulking bear form. “I should’ve told you that sooner. I love you, Blake.”
Blake closed his eyes, inwardly sighing at those words. He never thought Fisher would say them to him, but they were music to his ears. Words he would cherish forever, as much as he would cherish Fisher.
* * * *
“You are not molesting me in a public restroom,” Fisher said under his breath. “Someone could walk in at any second.”
“I can’t help it,” Blake said. “Every time you tell me you love me I get turned on.”
Fisher giggled, actually giggled as Blake tried to pin him to the wall of the men’s room at The Diner Train. Blake might get turned on when Fisher declared his love, but he knew the real truth. Blake wanted to have sex in public places where they could get caught.
“I just needed to wash my hands.” Fisher smacked at Blake’s arm. “Stop trying to pull my pants down.”
“Stop playing,” Blake said. “You know you love it just as much as I do.”
They’d been this way for the past three months. Fisher and Blake had already had sex in their SUV behind the movie theater, in the bathroom at the police station, and at Bistro. Now that Fisher thought about it, they had a lot of bathroom sex. He’d protested every single time, and Blake had won.
Like he would win now. Fisher just loved to play hard to get. That was what turned him on.
“A quickie in the stall,” Blake whispered against Fisher’s neck as his hands roamed up and down Fisher’s sides. “I wanna feel your dick in my hand.”
Fisher shivered. “Five seconds. That’s it.”
Blake pulled back and gave Fisher a daft look. “If you think I’m a five-second man, you’ve got another think coming.”
Blake had proven his stamina time and again. He didn’t have to argue his point with Fisher. Ever since John had tried to kill Blake—shooting him multiple times, and Fisher terrified because Blake had slept for fourteen hours—his mate had been so attentive that Fisher was the happiest man on the planet.
He no longer lived in fear, was afraid to speak his mind, and their favorite pastime was arguing. Or more to the point, making up afterward.
That was some of the best sex ever.
“Okay.” Fisher bit his lip as he looked toward the bathroom door. “Five minutes, tops.”
Blake curled his arm around Fisher’s waist and lifted him off his feet, carrying him to the stall. “It’ll take however long, and you’re not timing me. Not when your body is my personal playground.”
Fisher blushed at Blake’s words. He’d never felt so wanted and desired in his life.
Blake closed the stall door and locked it. He turned, wiggling his brows. “Drop your pants.”
Instead, Fisher moved in close and unfastened Blake’s jeans. Fisher had gotten used to carrying travel-sized packets of lube, and he planned on using one today. He wanted to feel Blake thrusting inside of him, and there was a convenient baby-changing station mounted to the wall.
Fisher reached into Blake’s underwear and squeezed his hard cock. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“Oh yeah?” Blake arched a brow. “Do tell.”
With a wide grin, Fisher spun and shoved his jeans and underwear down his thighs. He pulled out the packet of lube and handed it over.
Blake gave a small growl as he took it. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
Fisher pulled the changing station table down and rested his upper half on it, bending himself over for Blake to stretch him. He hissed and wiggled when Blake inserted two lubed fingers into his ass.
Fisher groaned, panting as he rested against the hard plastic. “You have to make this quick.”
Blake snorted. “No promises. Your ass is too goddamn good not to stay buried in it for hours.”
Fisher’s heart raced when Blake slid his fingers free and replaced them with his cock. One good thrust and his mate was all the way in, his balls resting against Fisher.
They both groaned as Blake grabbed Fisher’s hips and lifted him off the floor. He pistoned into him, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the small bathroom.
Fisher tried to spread his legs, but his clothes prevented that. All he could do was hold on for the ride, and Blake punched his hips forward, sending Fisher straight to the edge of ecstasy.
Already he was that close to coming. Fisher couldn’t help it. Any time Blake touched him he lost control, and today was no different.
Fisher forgot where they were, crying out as Blake pounded into his ass. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chanted, trying to make Blake really lose it.
Wit
h a snarl, Blake bent over Fisher and nipped his earlobe. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
They stilled when the bathroom door opened.
“I can hear you all the way in the kitchen,” Cyril, the owner of the diner, said. “This is a family restaurant. I swear I’m gonna insulate these walls. More people come in here to fuck than to piss. Keep it down.”
Fisher bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Blake pressed his face into Fisher’s back, and Fisher felt his mate’s movements as he grinned.
“Sorry,” Blake called out.
When they heard the bathroom door close, Blake slapped a hand over Fisher’s mouth to stifle his groans as he went back to fucking Fisher to within an inch of his life.
Blake sank his canines into Fisher’s shoulder, strengthening their bond and sending Fisher over the edge as his orgasm shook him. Blake grunted his release then pulled his canines free.
Fisher smiled as he tried to catch his breath. “That was six minutes.”
Blake slapped his ass. “Stop counting. You’ll bruise my ego.”
Fisher seriously doubted that. Blake wasn’t that type. He loved life and lived it to the fullest, having no regrets, and had shown Fisher how to do the same.
He was finally his old self, with special thanks to his knight in shining armor, who loved Fisher unconditionally. He would be forever thankful he’d made that call to be rescued, because Blake had rescued Fisher in more ways than one. He had not only gotten him out of a bad situation but had stolen Fisher’s heart.
THE END
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