by T. S. Joyce
“Well, I think you’re right because she’s been all nice and sentimental with that mushy shit lately.” He scrunched up his face. “She’s probably PMSing. Or knocked up with a cub. Ava is a cactus. That girl doesn’t go soft without a reason.”
“Or maybe she is realizing you really are a good big brother.”
“Well, just in case, I wrote chocolate and Midol on Trigger’s grocery list. He looked all scandalized when he read it, but he don’t understand. Menses is no joke. It’s like y’all turn into little demons for a week every month.”
Karis belly laughed. “Oh my God, did you just say menses?”
“I’m dead serious, Karis. I’m traumatized from the screaming fits my sister would throw when she was in high school. I’ve never seen anyone act like such a fool.”
Karis was cracking up now at how earnest his expression was. “Well, knock me up quick, and you won’t have to deal with that stuff for nine months.”
His eyebrows jacked up higher, and he pointed to the floor. “On your back, woman. I’m gonna put a baby in you right-fuckin’-now if that’s the case.” He cracked a smile when she doubled over and grabbed her stomach from her laughter.
She didn’t know why she thought this was so funny, but tears were tingling at the corners of her eyes. “You’re this big, tough, scarred-up, manly, ranch-running cowboy, and you’re afraid of girls on their periods.”
“They aren’t girls on their periods—they’re demons. I’ll never not be scared of them. I’m serious, you need to write your time of the month on a calendar, and I’ll just work all day and night until you stop getting the urge to throw shit at me.”
“You’re gonna hide from me?” she said between laughter. “You killed a War-Bear and half a Clan of cougar shifters, but you’re gonna hide from me every month? I’m half your size!”
“It don’t matter how little a demon is,” he punched out through his laughter. “It’s still a demon!”
“When was the last time you had a girlfriend?” she asked, leaning her spine against the doorframe and wiping her eyes.
“Well, the year was nineteen-sixty-nine—”
“Stop, I’m being serious.”
“I don’t know. Not since I turned shifter.”
“Five years?” she asked too loud. The pitch of her voice hurt her sensitive ears, and Colt hunched slightly, too.
“Well, if you completely ignore the fact that my face is all fucked to hell and hard to look at, what human in her right mind is gonna put up with the hairy, growly, out-of-control part of me? Killer, remember? I couldn’t ask a human to put up with my shit, and I’m not going to make a mate out of a cougar shifter. I hate the Darby Clan.”
“Your face is not fucked to hell.”
“You’re staring at it right now.”
“Because we’re talking about it!”
“You’ve been staring at it all day.”
She huffed and irritated breath. “Well, it still looks like a new injury.”
“It ain’t. It’s half a decade old.”
“I think you are beautifu—”
“Don’t you even say it, you little liar. I look like a dehydrated lima bean.”
Karis bit back a smile. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Colton slid down the doorframe with a big-ass grin plastered to his face. As he sat down and took his hat off, rested it on his bent knee, he said, “I shoulda been a zebra shifter so these damn stripes make sense.”
Karis slid down the opposite side of the doorframe, facing him. There wasn’t much room for them, so she tucked her boots under his butt and gave him an I-dare-you-to-complain look about her feet placement. He did not take that dare. Instead, he said, “I look like a baked potato that went through a woodchipper.”
“Are you done?”
“I look like one of them fancy candles shaped like a baseball and all the wax melted on one side.”
“I’d do you.”
“You’d do a baked potato? You’re a freak.”
Karis giggled and rested her head back against the frame, looking down her nose at him. She let the humor fade from her voice as she admitted, “I think you’re cute.”
The smile fell from Colt’s lips. “Say that again.”
“I. Think. You. Are. Cute.”
He searched her face with an unreadable expression on his. “But only when I’m like this,” he said low and turned his profile so she could only see the uninjured side.
Karis leaned forward and rested her fingertips on his jaw, and then gently, she pulled his face back so she could see all of him. “I like you best like this. When you smile and you don’t mean it, this part of your face doesn’t move,” she murmured, brushing her fingers down the red scars. “But…when you really laugh, and you really mean that smile, this corner lifts up just fine.” She touched the left side of his lips. “I don’t like the way my body looks in a mirror and you don’t like your scars, so how about we say fuck it and just be fine with those parts of ourselves around each other?”
His injured side lifted. “You’re somethin’ else. You know that, right? Somethin’ special. Someone fucked up real bad to make you feel like you needed to be a breeder.” He brushed a wavy strand of hair from her face with the barest touch of his fingertip. “Their loss.”
His hat was still hanging on his bent knee, and she ran her fingertips along the smooth brim, stalling on looking back at him, because her cheeks were on fire and her chest felt all hot, too. How embarrassing that he affected her so much already.
What this man did to her was utterly baffling, but it was also confusing being reminded of what Jackson had done. Mixed emotions swirled in her head, making it hard to think straight. Happy to be in this moment, but sad at the thought of Jackson. Happy she had ended up here, but sad at the journey.
Colt reached forward and slid his hands to her waist, then pulled her closer to him. Searching her eyes, he touched her hair and then the side of her cheek. It was a hesitation. He was giving her time to stand up and run. He wasn’t trapping her. Smart man already knew how to manage a damaged girl like her.
She owed him a debt, though. She’d said he could kiss her if he came in here, and he’d held up his end of the bargain. Now she had to hold up hers.
So…she did.
Karis leaned forward, and right before her lips pressed chastely onto his, she closed her eyes. And then their mouths pressed together. Three seconds. That’s what it took before Colt got tired of their emotionless lip-lock and hugged her up tight and softened his lips. They moved against hers like water. Like he knew just how to kiss her into melting against him. And melt, she did. His warmth drew her, and she splayed her hands on his chest and then gripped his shirt because she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. His tongue brushed past her lips, and she was mortified when she gasped.
Karis could practically taste the triumphant smile on his lips as he pushed into her mouth again. She opened for him, begging with soft noises. She inched closer and angled her head any way he wanted. His hands were stone and fire against her skin as he lifted the hem of her sweater and gripped her hips again. He kissed her faster now, harder, igniting her entire body with fire. She couldn’t even recall the last time a man had touched her like this—like he needed her.
Danger, danger, danger. She’d had this plan to only sleep with her stranger mate if they didn’t kiss, like on that movie Pretty Woman. No emotions that way. And what was she doing? Day one, and she was making out with him in his childhood home.
Losing her mind even further, she let off a soft snarl of desperation and clumsily climbed onto him, straddling his lap. She cupped his neck as she rolled her hips against him.
Colt matched her bear’s soft growling and then let off a hitching breath as he arched his head back and gave her his throat to kiss. His fingers dug into her waist as he pulled her tight against his erection. God, he was huge. She could feel him right there through his jeans. She should stop. Right? She should stop them
right now before they burned each other up, but Karis was helpless. The most addictive feeling in the entire world was that of being wanted. And Colt was getting rougher and rougher, dragging her against his dick stroke after stroke. There was no doubt he wanted her. No doubt at all. And she wanted him just as bad.
And whooo, could that boy kiss! He stayed in control, kept the pace fast and hard, revving up her body with every stroke of his tongue against hers.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled against her lips, but she was too far gone now. Instead, Karis pulled his hand to the top of her leggings and rocked against him again.
“Fuck,” Colt whispered, sliding his hand down the front of her pants. He let off a growl when he felt how wet she was already.
He played with her clit until she was writhing against him and moaning tiny, pleading sounds. And right when she was on the verge of release, he slid two fingers deep into her. “Fuck my hand,” he snarled.
But she wanted more. Greedy Karis. She’d meant to play this cool, but right now she couldn’t think of anything but how good he would feel against her skin. “I want more than your hand,” she whispered.
There was no hesitation then. No pause. The jingle of Colt’s belt made her smile against his lips and push her leggings down, down. She ripped open his shirt, exposing a chest and abs that were so much more defined than she’d even imagined. Holy hell, he was sexy. His eight-pack flexed and twitched under her hand as she slid her touch downward. His skin was on fire. Greedy Karis, she wanted to absorb his warmth and confidence in the way he touched her.
He pushed the hem of her sweater upward and right over her head. Immediately, his hands were on her, cupping the full curves of her breasts, massaging until she bowed against him. “You never had anything to worry about with your body, Karis. You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t even want to look away,” he murmured.
I like you. I like you. I like you, she chanted in her head, but she would never say those words out loud. Be cool.
Karis rocked against his hard cock and, damn, it felt so good against her sensitive skin. Over and over, she rubbed him as his hips pumped harder too, matching her pace. At each stroke, she moved a little farther up his shaft, teasing them both until the head of his cock was right there at her entrance. Three more rolls of her hips, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Karis lifted up slightly and slid onto him, inch by inch, groaning as she took him.
Colt gritted his teeth and let off a sexy snarl as she lifted up by inches and pushed back onto him again. His hand went rough in the back of her hair, and his biting kisses found their way to her throat. Teeth, teeth, teeth, so sexy. Kiss, kiss, gentle bite. Kiss, kiss, bite a little harder.
She was rocking in a good rhythm now, the pressure building between her legs where they were connected. Felt so good. Sooo good. “Colt,” she whispered raggedly.
He released her hair, and his lips crashed onto hers. He wrapped his arms around her and held her so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was…safe.
He was pulling her down onto his dick so hard now, she was totally gone, riding wave after wave of ecstasy. The pressure was too much and felt too good, and she cried out as she came. Two strokes later, a growl rattled up his throat and he slammed into her and clenched, his cock throbbing deep and hard inside of her. Another rock of his hips and then another, shallow, hard, releasing warmth inside her.
She was completely high. That’s what this was, right? He’d gotten her high with sex, and now she couldn’t remember all the reasons she was supposed to stay distant from him. All she could think about was how incredible it felt to be connected at the hips, all wrapped up in his impossibly strong embrace, kissing lips that wanted to kiss her back, making love to a man who wanted to make love back.
Making love?
What had just happened again?
Sex. Yeah. It was just sex. Colton felt the same about what they were doing. She was just a breeder, and he was just a breeder, and that’s all this was. That’s why she was warm, happy, and steady, and why she couldn’t remember the name of the boy who destroyed her, only the name of the man who was hugging her tight enough to put her back together again.
Shit.
Greedy Karis.
She’d meant to keep her distance, but she was falling for her stranger mate instead.
Chapter Six
“Can I hold your hand?” Colt asked.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because you shut down on me real good since you put your clothes back on and we left that old house. Look where you’re sitting.”
Karis took stock of her body and, indeed, she was pressed up against the opposite side of his truck like a bug stuck to flypaper.
With purpose, she relaxed and scooted over into the center of her seat.
“Are you freakin’ out?” he asked.
She sighed and parted her lips, but no explanation waited there. She didn’t know what she was feeling, so she sure as hell couldn’t explain it.
Colt turned down the screamo music on the radio. “Okay, let me ask a different question. How far is this gonna go?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Option A, if I give you space, will you feel better in a day? In two days? In a week? Or option B, are you the type of woman who drags out a shut-down. Is it just how you are? You need distance?”
She wanted to pick option A because that was the girl she used to be. She didn’t shut down long-term, but now she was different. She couldn’t pick Option A. Not anymore. “Option B. I’ll drag it out. I must.”
“You don’t have to ‘must do’ anything. Not with me. If you truly are the type to drag this out forever? If you’re fine sitting in silence while eating at a table ignoring each other, being emotionless and unable to talk about your feelings? Like a robot? Then get your ass over here.”
“W-what?” she asked.
“Center of the bench seat. I’m gonna put my arm around you, and even if you don’t like it? Tough. I’m not giving you space to do whatever it is you’re doing. Now, you might be a fan of casual sex, but as for me, I don’t do casual. I like what just happened between us. I think you’re beautiful. My dick inside of you is the greatest thing that’s happened to me since I was twelve and discovered you can dip giant pretzels in cheese sauce. As long as you’re here, considering me as a mate, you aren’t allowed to go cold on me.”
“Oh, is that a rule?” she asked angrily. How dare he boss her around. If she wasn’t comfortable, she didn’t have to touch him. And screw the little voice in her head that chimed in, “But you want to touch him!” Her conscience was a traitor and a heifer.
“Yeah, I’ll make a rule, and then you make a rule. Fair enough?”
“Fine! I want a baby now.”
Colt snorted and muttered, “Be serious.”
“I am serious. That’s the reason I’m here. I want a cub. I want to raise one. I want—” Her voice broke, and she hated feeling weak, so she forced her gaze away from him and out the window at the winter woods that blurred by.
“Finish it,” he said softly. “What do you want?”
“I want a family, but not like other girls want. I want a friend in you, and I want a cub. I know what I can and can’t handle now, Colt. I got hurt the last time I tried with a man. Bad hurt. The kind you never get over for your whole life. You can leave me. You can. That’s what adult relationships are. Either one of us could wake up one morning and decide we hate the other and leave.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. A cub can’t leave me.”
“Jesus,” he whispered. The old steering wheel creaked under his hand as he took a right onto a long, snowy drive with a sign over it. Two Claws Ranch.
“You want me to stay expendable,” he said. “You know how scary that is for me? How risky? Because I know how I feel already. I care about you. I wanna rip out the heart of whoever pasted your face on that picture. I want more sex with you, not just to fuck, but
because my insides felt better when I touched you. When I watched your face. When I made you feel good. I could tell you got lost with me and the weight of the world lifted right off your shoulders. It was so fucking beautiful to watch you stuck in a moment with me. I want more.”
“You don’t want a cub,” she murmured, so disappointed.
“Of course I do. But I want the family part, too. I don’t want a cold mate, Karis. I want a mate I have a shot at making happy. And not just because I give you a cub either. I mean I want a mate I can make smile. So until you decide to go? That’s my rule. I want to touch you, and if it’s too much, then we aren’t a match.”
Karis crossed her arms over her chest. “And what about my rule?”
“About me giving you a cub right-fuckin’ now? That’s a ridiculous rule, but I’ll negotiate.”
“What’s your offer?”
“Give me three months to try and win your heart. If I fail, you can go. If I succeed, and you start carin’ about my day, start missing me when I’m out, start wanting to sit in that middle seat right against my ribs without me bullying you, then we’ll start trying for a cub.”
Three months.
Karis heaved a sigh of frustration and shook her head. “Well, I guess three months is better than what the last one made me wait.”
“How long?”
“Ten years.”
“Fuck,” he gritted out, frowning at her. “When did you leave him?”
“I didn’t. I stuck around all that time and listened to promises he never planned on keeping. He’d got himself fixed without me knowing and kept putting off marrying me, kept putting off children, kept putting off our future. You know how bad it hurts to stay with a man who can’t decide if you’re good enough for him? For a decade? I was all-in that entire time, and he barely had his pinky toe in the water. I had no idea until I found one of those generic birthday cards doctors and dentists send their patients. There was one from his vasectomy doctor. He’d had it done years ago because he didn’t want a family with me, and then he strung me along the whole time, promising me everything I ever wanted. And when I confronted him about the card, he admitted he didn’t know if he ever loved me, or was ever even attracted to me. Said he didn’t want babies with my type of animal in them or if he wanted them to look like me, so he made a impulsive decision seven years ago to get a vasectomy and he never told me that whole time. The day I found out, he knew the gig was up and he packed his things and walked out that front door. The last thing I asked him was if he regretted the surgery. He shook his head with zero hesitation. He said no. I was crying. Everything I knew was a lie. I asked him if he regretted lying to me about it, and he shook his head without hesitation again and said no. He said that lie kept his life with me comfortable. And meanwhile, I was devastated and had no prospects of having a baby. I want one so bad. Someone to take care of, who will love me like I love them—unconditionally. I always wanted to be a mommy. God,” she muttered, feeling ill. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It doesn’t matter.”