by Lucy Farago
“We aren’t as protected as you, but I can handle the cold. It’s you I can’t handle. Turn around, and don’t turn back until I tell you.”
She was going to punch him for this, but what the hell. “How? Will you purr for me?” he said, his nose touching hers.
“No, but I’ll sink my teeth into your ass if I see one whisker twitch my way.”
He laughed. “Never thought of you as a prude,” he said, discarding his T-shirt. Then he turned and whipped off his pants. He made a display of extending his arm and then dropping them by his fingertips. Granted, it was more showing off than anything. His workouts were about him, rather than impressing females, but just this once, he didn’t mind being someone’s–being her–eye candy.
His posturing had the desired effect. “Pile your clothes on top of mine. We’ll come back for them later. I’ll go on ahead. You catch up.” He allowed himself the pleasure of taking in her perfumed arousal before quickly shifting. If she saw what she did to him—literally, in the flesh—he’d spook her for sure. Then how would they work together?
Sprinting through the trees, the cold, damp earth beneath his paws, was the reminder he needed. He was a Siberian. She was a lynx. Never the two shall get it on. Before long, he caught the whiff of her close behind him. But he didn’t turn around, afraid her form would distract him.
He’d seen her cat side, again while she’d been instructing her class on traversing exterior walls. Watching her scale up to the library’s third floor, to land gracefully on the parapet wall had been, dare he think it, intoxicating. Her body moved not unlike a dancer’s, lean, sinewy, and sexy as fuck—she’d made it look easy. He could climb, but he was no cat. And at the time, he’d found himself envious. Now, in this past day of being honest with himself, he realized it had been more. She’d impressed him, yes, but he’d felt a sense of pride. Which, at the time, made no sense. Why be proud of her? She hated him.
He dodged a gnarly fallen tree and leaped over a horse-sized boulder, hating where his thoughts were taking him. If his instincts were correct, if he’d found his mate, then he would be proud of her. Had his gut known before he had? Was Mia his mate?
Watching the sky for more smouldering trees, he shelved his questions for later. Because shit, what did it matter? She’d never have him. Of that, he was certain. When the first hints of smoke reached him, he slowed his pace and heard her do the same. He turned, knowing communication would be difficult in their forms but hoping they’d find a way. He wanted her to circle to the right while he went left.
I’ll take left. There’s a ridge to the left, and I’m a better climber.
Loki shook his head, certain he’d imagined hearing her. Only mates could communicate telepathically.
Dog, snap out of it. Then she sprang toward her chosen path and disappeared, leaving him wondering if she was aware of what just happened.
Given he had no choice, he went right.
It took him only a minute to reach the fire, or what was left of it. One tree sizzled and popped, fallen on the drenched, leaf-covered ground. Last night’s storm had proved useful. And whatever or whoever was starting these fires wouldn’t win today.
Some twenty feet away, masked by the smoke and still-burning embers of the fallen tree, he caught the aroma. Of what, he wasn’t sure. Unlike anything he’d ever smelled, it was a mixture of mushrooms…almonds, honey…and the unpleasant lingering stench of sulphur. A freaky wet dog?
Mia jumped down, startling the shit out of him. What the hell are you doing?
Whatever was here is gone. She raised her snout toward the ridge.
Loki pressed his canines together and listened, actually listened as Mia described the scene.
It’s a fairly good advantage point from up there. Clear view of the area. Whatever was here is gone. She appeared unaffected by their sudden ability to communicate.
Was she actually clueless about what was happening?
We must be close, right? Or at least in the right area. We should maybe check the caves around here. He could be hiding.
He decided to test her. If this is some crazy Big Foot, you could be right.
She crooked her neck, as if something had caught her attention, and then strode away. So, it was just him. Otherwise, she’d never have ignored his use of the human vernacular. Either that or he was losing it, which was a better alternative to having a cat as a mate. He should be relieved, right? So why wasn’t he?
A few short seconds later, she motioned him over with her snout.
And there, clear as day, in the fresh mud, a footprint.
One that would make finding a shoe that fits impossible.
He hated it when he was wrong, but most of all, he hated how he knew the dumb cat was smirking at him. On the plus side, she couldn’t hear him. That would be all kinds of freaky.
He’d come close to hearing the call one other time. A Siberian named Juno. It had scared him to the point he’d turned celibate for nearly a year. Exhausted after a grueling four-day mission, he’d taken a nap and awoke to Juno standing over him with nothing on but a smile and her dog tags. Luckily, he’d fallen asleep with his earbuds, and the woman who’d been telling him she wanted to run naked with him in a rainstorm was Madonna and not Juno.
He told himself he could ignore it, should the mating call ever happen. He told himself that because he never believed it would. To be more precise, he never believed in the stupid mating call. But wouldn’t that just burn his pack’s collective asses, his having to return, all these years later, and with a lynx no less? He snorted. Mia gave him a hard nudge, misunderstanding his warped sense of humor for criticism on her discovery. This not communicating sucked. Later, when she’d question why he did what he was about to do, he’d blame it on his shifter side.
Loki licked her muzzle then headed back to where they’d dumped their clothes. She’d done a good job. Why wait until he was a man to tell her?
Above, the once clear sky had clouded over, a reminder they’d have to make camp and he’d have to share a tent with Mia. Part of him almost wished the cat had heard him. Then he’d have had an excuse. He didn’t much follow pack law or whatever bullshit they’d tried to dump on him, but if it were true, if Mia had been able to understand him in animal form, then she was his mate. Instinct would take over. Instinct would explain why she invaded his senses. And fuck yeah, instinct would demand he give her what she so clearly wanted from him.
He smelled Mia long before he heard her. Who knew he’d enjoy the stench of cat? But it wasn’t a stench. Her scent of sugar and cream assaulted his nose, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips. He growled, wondering if she tasted as good as she smelled. He knew she would. Of course, she would. He reminded himself that she wasn’t his mate, but she was his teammate. And you didn’t sleep with teammates. That made things all kinds of awkward.
From behind him, Mia leaped gracefully over his head, making it to their clothing before him. How was it cats could smile? Mother Nature’s sick humor?
You are so smug. Just for that, I’m going to peek. What the hell…It wasn’t like she could understand him.
What part of bite your ass did you not understand? echoed in his head.
What the fuckity-fuck-fuck?
6
One minute she was threatening Loki, and the next, the idiot had shifted. Not only did he appear comfortable in his nudity, but proud too. Was he showing off? For her? His impatient pacing, the way he never took his eyes off her was…unsettling…and so hot as fuck her short tail rose. Embarrassed by her body’s reaction, she plopped her ass down, trying to hide it.
“Shift, Mia.”
While she wasn’t keen on anyone telling her what to do, let alone in that tone of voice, the feral gleam in his eye was an even bigger turn-on than the solid man package hanging…er…standing upright between two very solid thighs and under one fine six-pack. No, she wasn’t shifting. This form was far safer. In this form, she could keep her hands to herself.
“Shift, Mia,” he repeated. Lips pursed as if in pain, he added, “Please.”
For a brief second, she considered complying, and then he did that sexy, pacing I-want-you thing, with a grin that would make the coldest of women strip, and she changed her mind. She could not sleep with him. Sleeping with him would be bad. He was a dog. Okay, not just a dog, but she was a lynx. It would be bad, right?
“Mia, you do realize I can shift back?”
Oh shit. Nope, that wouldn’t be any better. And if the opalescence of his eyes was any indication…. Mia shifted.
“Finally,” he said, like a great weight had been taken off his shoulders.
He didn’t give her any time to wonder how they’d reached this point, how they’d gone from hunting a Sasquatch to his pinning her down on the leaf-drenched forest ground. With her arms snagged over her head and her legs trapped under his powerful thighs, she could do nothing but enjoy the way he brushed his lips across her cheeks, over her eyes, and down her nose. When his ragged breath caught her ear, she shivered. He was smelling her. She let her eyelids drift closed as her breasts swelled in response, primping for their turn. Only it wasn’t his nose she felt.
Loki’s tongue swept over one nipple and then the other, back and forth, tormenting her, tasting her. Her skin prickled with anticipation and wanting more. Her legs tried to part, but his weight overpowered her, and she could do nothing but allow him to continue his exploration. She could shift, free herself, maybe climb a tree until he calmed down. But where would the fun be in that? She liked his heat on her flesh, his exhales on her neck. He hadn’t even kissed her yet. And while she wanted to kiss him—needed to kiss him—without a doubt, she’d regret dragging his mouth up to hers. Because while she wanted him to come up, he was going down.
Now able to move her hands, she dug her fingernails into the blanket of leaves, arching her back when his tongue dipped into her belly button. Realization dawned. This was his revenge. He was going to torture her for every insult she’d ever hurled at him. And when he finally unpinned her legs and his breath flamed the heat between her legs, she knew she was right. The bastard would kill her with pleasure.
“Loki,” she said, hating how she was begging for more.
“Not yet.”
Not yet? Not yet? “Don’t be an ass. Kiss me.”
“Kiss you?”
She flinched when his fingers touched her sex.
“Kiss you where?”
Given that his face was between her legs, she should’ve anticipated his next move, but still, her hips bucked, driving her skull into the cold ground. How long did he plan to tease her?
“I’ll have your mouth,” he said, “when I’m done.”
She looked down in time to see him draw her scent over his lips. No one had ever done that before. Then again, she’d kept her bed partners to humans, and this…this breathing in one’s…mate…was reserved for shifters. Mate…the word pinged in her ears like a hundred wind chimes. It should’ve sobered her up, but she dismissed it as her lust playing tricks on her. Instead, she spread her legs wider. And when at last his mouth met her scorching sex, she keened in pleasure, her body uncontrollably writhing beneath him. He truly was going to kill her. And he meant what he’d said. He wasn’t done with her.
Some shifters had the ability to use all six of their senses at once, the sixth being heightened instinct. It alerted you to danger. It made you more sensitive to pain…and pleasure. Mia freed her mind. She heard Loki’s tongue lap her folds, his mouth as it suckled, as one of his fingers probed, pushing her closer and closer to the point of breaking. She marvelled at his foolish, wicked grin, his delight in torturing her. And while he touched and tasted, she inhaled his scent, heavy with musk arousal. She wanted to touch, and she wanted to taste. The need drove her further to breaking, and when her release finally imploded, her loud cry scattered birds from their perches, high above the trees. Loki didn’t stop. Her second orgasm shattered her into a thousand pieces.
When at last her sanity returned, she forced her numb limbs to obey her. Catching him off guard, she flipped him onto his back, and before a dumb question could escape his magical mouth, she impaled herself. It was her turn. And if his unabashed howl was any indication, he was going to appreciate the many, many hours she’d trained to hone every muscle in her body.
If it weren’t for her damn mind playing tricks on her, riding him was near perfection. Mate, mate, mate.
“Do you really want us to sleep here, in a cave?” It wasn’t that Mia objected to imitating a bear. One of her closest friends was a grizzly. It was that Loki had gone all weird on her after they’d done it. Given their age difference, she’d brushed it off to a generational thing. It was the only way she could explain his sudden need to—dare she think it without wanting to smack him—take care of her.
“If there is something out there the size of a silo, sleeping out in the open is probably not a good idea. And this cave will hold us and my machine.” Loki turned off the ignition but kept the headlights on so they could see.
Laughing, Mia dismounted. “You can smell a French fry under a hundred feet of snow. And I see even better at night. I’m fairly certain we’d know he was coming.” They’d also driven another two hours with no more sightings.
“Maybe. But if Mastermind fucked with this guy, who knows what kind of crazy shit he can do? Something like, oh, I don’t know…starting fires.” Loki removed the earpiece they agreed they should wear, given that they’d now had proof an arsonist was to blame for the fires.
“So now you’re a believer?” It tickled her all kinds of shades of pink, knowing she’d found that footprint.
“All we know for sure is someone or something with a dinosaur-sized paw print was near the last bonfire. The cave is safer. I’m going to radio in with an update. Stay here,” he said and then left without another word.
After tucking her own earpiece into her saddlebag, Mia lugged their sleeping gear off the ATV, seriously questioning her judgment, or lack thereof, in sleeping with him. Because he’d just told her to stay put, and it wasn’t in a friendly kind of let-me-get-that-for-you way. It was an order. A he-man order. She was beginning to wonder if, when she’d thought she’d heard mate, she’d heard it coming from him. Was that possible? Her abilities didn’t extend to her human form, only when she’d shifted. Or at least, not that she’d ever experienced. But that explained a lot. She blew out a long breath in relief. That had to be it. Only now, she had a problem. Did he think her his mate?
Loki returned, dragging long evergreen branches behind him. He walked the perimeter of the cave, and when he appeared to find whatever it was he searched for, he settled the branches on the floor. Then, without a word, he tugged the sleeping bags from her hands and proceeded to unroll one over the soft needles. She was about to open her mouth to tell him she could make her own bed when he unzipped the second roll and laid it over the first. He’d planned on them bunking together. Not that sleeping next to him would be so bad. Late in August, the nights would be cooler. She could shift and sleep in her animal form, but snuggling up to Loki might prove way more fun. However, and it was a big however, presumptuous much? Then again, if the dummy had confused her for his mate…
“What are you doing?” Though she knew full well, she was curious to see how he’d answer. They’d gone from hating each other to working together, to bypassing frenemies and going straight to the awkward slept-with-a-colleague….and who knew what else was rolling around in that big empty head of his? She’d say this for them. They didn’t let anything like thinking things through get in their way.
“Making the night more comfortable,” he said with a far too business-like tone than the situation called for.
So not used to seeing him this way, she studied Loki while he worked and could only come up with one reason for this goof-ball behavior. He was unsure of himself. Unsure of her? Of them? She smiled as he fussed over the sleeping bags. On the one hand, it was whacked that he was doing this,
cute but whacked. On the other hand, she should be pissed that he thought to do this. Okay, so they’d done the deed. Didn’t mean they were lovers and certainly not lovers for life. Shit, they didn’t even like each other. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said.
She debated just dropping it. It was obvious he was in a mood. He hadn’t spoken to her until they’d reached the cave, and it dawned on her that he’d barely looked at her since they’d put on their clothes. To figure this out, she’d need to be certain she’d heard the word, and then that it had come from his head. Because no way could it have come from hers. As much as she hated it, she had to help propagate her species.
If, in fact, she was mistaken—she had been focused on other things—then what was up his ass? Had it been the sex? She thought back. No, he’d definitely enjoyed himself. So, what? Her mind returned to the generational thing. It was time he got over himself. No way was she tolerating this tension for such an absurd reason. They’d had a good time. Okay, an amazing, toe-curling time, but still, it was just sex. Get over it.
“Tell me, does your generation have hang-ups about sex?”
Loki stopped what he was doing and finally looked her in the eye. “My generation?”
“Yeah, you know, Gen Xers.”
He quit fussing with the sleeping bag and stood. “Exactly how old do you think I am?”
“I don’t know. Early forties.” It was wrong to assume a shifter’s age. Certain breeds hid it well. Some lived long, long lives. Given Loki’s gray temples…but then again, except for a couple of sexy laugh-lines when he smiled, he had no wrinkles. Was she wrong? Judging from his scowl, she assumed she was.
“Sorry,” she said before he let her have it. “You pretend like you don’t like anyone. You keep to yourself most of the time. You get mad at the dumbest things—”