Daddy Shifter's Fake Fiance (Stonybrooke Shifters)

by Leela Ash

  What was she going to do? If she buried it, it would give her a bit more time before she would have to leave. Being the shady type that that guy was, everyone would just think he had slipped off and left town. And truthfully she could think of any number of other scenarios that people might assume had caused his absence. There was always some good in the bad if you looked hard enough. Her Mom had taught her that. Maybe she could even stay until fall so she could harvest and preserve enough for the winter on the road. She just had to hope that whoever had left the shirt was a friend, which seemed likely. Still she didn’t like to be out of control. Maybe whoever it was would want something in return for their silence.

  Jessa got back to the body, or where it was supposed to be at least, and there was nothing there. She did a double take to be sure she was in the right place. Sure enough, the blood still coated the ground, but there was no body. She also detected no discernible trail. What could have happened? Afraid that maybe he was somehow still alive, Jessa’s heart sank. She immediately raced back to town to get her son. It didn’t seem possible that things could get worse, but they were, in fact, getting worse and worse by the minute. She ran back in a controlled panic, and was both surprised and relieved to hear her son’s distinct laughter as she approached the end of her street. Blessedly, nothing seemed to be amiss. Still, understandably alarmed by the day’s events, she was walking back to her house when she saw Teresa waving to her.

  “Hey Teresa, where’s Shane? Is he ok?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t he be? They are just playing out back. Did you see Mike?”

  “No, should I have?”

  “No, but Billy has been looking for him for a while. He wanted him to go with him fishing later. Mike was supposed to be getting some worms and bait in the woods. I thought you would have seen him out there. Oh well, I am sure he will turn up. No big deal.”

  Jessa said a few more pleasantries and asked Shane if he wanted to come help her make dinner. He declined, wanting nothing to do with chores of any kind of course. She was relieved. She didn’t know why she had even asked him. It must have been habit.

  She entered the house alone and as soon as the door closed behind her, she pressed her back against it, breathing slowly. She needed to collect herself. It was upon finally relaxing and calming her mind that she noticed the masculine smell coming off of the shirt she wore. Closing her eyes for a moment, she lifted the collar and inhaled. The smell quickly reminded her of the man she had met the night before, and how he had made her feel in his presence. Just as quickly she put the pieces together.

  ***

  Dinner that night consisted of baked potatoes with butter and sour cream, string beans and a salad. Jessa had just set the table and was going to call Shane in, when she stopped at the kitchen window. Michael was out front playing catch with him and her son was beaming with the attention. Her son missed his father. He missed having a man to look up to and show him the way. Hating to break the fun up, she called for Shane to come in and eat. To her astonishment, after Shane said something to the man, he started to follow the boy into the house. Great, she thought, this is just what I need. Her mind and body were already addled enough.

  “Mom, I invited Mike over for dinner. You always say there’s enough for everyone.”

  “Of course hon.” she said, even if she wasn’t exactly feeling it.

  She patted the boy’s head before she sent Mike a glare with barely contained hostility. Although a part of her knew she should be grateful, what she felt was anger at the knowledge that this man had in a small way “saved her.” She had gotten so used to doing everything on her own that she wasn’t sure she was ready to let down her walls and receive any help. Seeing that look, Mike almost changed his mind about staying for dinner, especially after thinking of the fate of the last man who crossed her. He brushed whatever second thoughts he had aside and chose to follow his impulse and push ahead and pass through the door.

  “Welcome, Michael was it?”

  She looked at the man again, her face back to neutrality as she awaited his reply.

  “Shane, go wash up dear.”

  Jessa watched her son huff to the bathroom, a little perturbed his mother had spoken to him like a child in front of his new friend. She turned to speak to Michael, who had suddenly gotten so close to her that she forgot her own words in surprise. She took a step back, but Michael grabbed her gently around her waist and pulled her to him. He huskily spoke in her ear, “I like this shirt much better on you.”

  Jessa’s body felt electrified like never before, not even with her husband. The man’s touch sent her body on edge and she backed up from his grasp. The knowledge that it had been he who left the shirt only intensified her body’s reaction. She did not feel a danger, but rather a need that could be even more dangerous to the woman. Her body was responding to this virile man. She moved too quickly and winced and grabbed her head reflexively. It was becoming a very eventful, as well as confusing, day for the young woman.

  “Let me take a look at that.”

  “No. I’m fine. I have taken care of it already.”

  “I bet you have. But let me look.”

  Michael touched her gently, pushing long strands of her hair back to see the wound. It looked as if she was hit by the butt of a gun and there was a substantial cut. He also noticed flecks of green and a clear jelly on the wound.

  “Here, let’s clean it out.”

  “It is clean. Those are herbs so it doesn’t get infected.”

  “You’re a healer as well?”

  Shane came out of the bathroom and Jessa pulled herself from Michael, looking away.

  “You ready to eat, baby?”

  7

  The meal was simple, but delicious. With as much traveling as he was used to, Michael was used to scavenging for what he ate. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had butter. Very few people even knew how to make it anymore. He had not seen sour cream since before the bombs.

  “How in the world did you make sour cream?”

  “I found some vinegar a while back. You just mix it up and let it sit for a while.”

  She made it sound so simple. He guessed it was, but you had to know how to do it. There were other luxuries that he noticed that he had not seen since the time before all the destruction, when society ran like a well-oiled machine. Another luxury was the alcohol that he was drinking, a sort of moonshine. It was strong and he could feel its effects almost immediately with the first sip. As they finished their meal and he drained the last of his drink, he felt an uncharacteristic groggy feeling spread through him, which soon gave way to unconsciousness. The next time he opened his eyes, he was still sitting there, but now with his cheek resting on the table. As he slowly raised his head, he saw that the boy was nowhere in sight.

  “Come on big boy, time to go lie down.”

  “What was in that drink?”

  “Nothing you won’t sleep off dear.”

  With him in a more vulnerable state, Jessa leaned in and captured his lips with hers. Her tongue teased his mouth open, before he could reciprocate. She gently nipped his lips as his hand grabbed at her breast. It didn’t matter how out of it a man was, they always had energy for that, she thought. He moaned into her mouth before he passed out completely once more.

  Jessa looked down at the man lying unconscious in her bed. It really was a shame, she thought. He would have been one of the men she actually would have considered for a real relationship…or at least for a few romps in the hay. She couldn’t help but look at the bulge that had yet to go down in his pants. She reached out and grabbed it with her hand, saddened further by the size of it. Such a shame, she thought again.

  8

  Michael woke up with a start and quite a pounding headache. He completely forgot where he was for a minute. He looked around and found himself in Jessa’s bed, but she was nowhere to be seen. Walking through the house, he could see that the essentials were missing. The top drawers of her dresser were op
en and empty. The once full cupboard was half bare. The woman was gone. Michael’s heart sank.

  He was frustrated and a little angry, but a look around her little house made him even more intrigued. For such a small house, every inch was used efficiently. There were plants and herbs preserved and drying in every room that he walked through. He did not even know what half of them were, but it sure looked impressive. There were plants growing indoors, almost as many as there were growing outside. He had the sinking feeling that Jessa had run away, and it was because of his shirt comment. Somehow he had gotten the crazy idea that she would be grateful for his help. Instead, she seemed pissed. One thing had stayed the same since before the bombs, he thought. He still didn’t understand women. Mike would have never told anyone what happened, but she didn’t know that. He had scared her off. A wave of guilt and some self-condemnation washed over him. Well, she wasn’t getting away so easily. He would just have to find her.

  ***

  Jessa walked down one of the overgrown side roads on her way towards the coast. She had been trying to decide about their trip for a while and the incident with that creep – that dead creep now - cemented the idea. She was craving the saltwater and Shane had never even seen the ocean before. That was something she wanted to rectify.

  She figured that it would take a few months and she had brought enough dehydrated vegetables and jerky, as well as energy cakes she made out of ground acorn, mixed dehydrated berries and animal fat, to make the journey. Shane was understandably not very excited about leaving the little town, though he knew that there must be a reason and listened when his mother woke him up and told him to pack. They each had a full pack on their backs, since what they could carry was now the sum total of their worldly possessions.

  He was used to moving around. The last six months had been the longest they had stayed in one place. He knew his mother was fearful of traveling alone and he picked up on her added stress. He was not quite sure what she was afraid of. She would never admit she was afraid, but Shane knew when she was. He liked the idea of traveling again and he always looked at it like an adventure. He was going to miss Aidan and even that new man Michael, but he did not want to stay in that tiny town forever. There were so many things that he was told growing up, the stories of the way the world used to be and he wanted to see more of what was left. Mostly knew he had to be brave for his mom.

  “Where are we going Ma?”

  “Well baby, I would love to see the ocean again, and wouldn’t you like to see water everywhere as far as you can see?”

  “Yes, I am ready for an adventure!”

  Jessa smiled down to him. He constantly reminded her of how wise beyond his years he was and of the uncanny ability children have to adapt to almost anything. He was already adjusting to this new “adventure” as he called it. He must have gotten that from his father.

  His father had been convinced that they must move around a lot, constantly searching. He was always looking for the perfect place to make a home. It had been over four years though, and they had never found it. Kraven had always done more than love her. He had been her constant protector and had shown it many times during the course of their travels. There was also more than one or two times that he had saved their young child. She was especially nervous about traveling alone with her son. She was afraid she would not be able to protect him as she needed to. A gun and a crossbow had been added to the weapons on hand, though she still felt vulnerable.

  After all, there was no such thing as police to protect them now. The thought of dialing 911 actually made her wince. Wouldn’t that be nice. She would be calling every day, she mused to herself.

  While Jessa remembered life before only vaguely, she had definitely remembered police. People did not have some uniformed force to depend on to save them anymore. They only had their own wits and skills and those of whoever they were living or traveling with. There was some protection and safety in numbers, but it seemed to her that you had to lose free will in the balance and it just wasn’t worth it to her.

  Deep down she hoped she wasn’t being pigheaded and foolish. Hopefully her stubbornness would not get them both killed. But she had to be true to herself. What was the point of being safe if she could not decide how to live in that safety on her own terms? Jessa had always agreed with her husband that there must be someplace she could do that as part of a community. She was determined that if she couldn’t find such a place, she would help to build one. Now that he was gone, she was more determined than ever to make that place a reality.

  9

  Jessa smiled at her good fortune. The pair had stumbled across a small cottage in the middle of the woods that seemed to have been empty for a while. She felt she was far enough away from the road to build a fire, as she was not too worried about thieves as deep in as they were. Shane was in the back room sleeping. She had strung some can lines in the woods as a make shift alarm system for some added protection. A minute’s warning was often the difference between life and death these days. Jessa had also secured his room with a few extra boards on the inside. With that extra sense of security, she was now outside enjoying one of her guilty pleasures; a joint. The civilized world may have ended, but at least there was plenty of pot now. Not only was it the best weed anyone had ever smoked, but the seeds were highly nutritious and not too bad tasting as an addition to almost any meal.

  Sitting back with her eyes closed, Jessa exhaled the sweet pungent smoke out of her nose. She replayed the day’s events, but instead of focusing on the attack, she thought of the man whose shirt she still wore.

  “You mind if I take a drag?”

  Jessa was stunned to hear a voice so close, not even hearing any steps beforehand. So much for her tin can alarm system. She opened her eyes and almost started to scream, but the sound was stifled by a large hand. His face pressed against hers, replacing the fingers with his mouth. His tongue delved into her mouth quickly, demanding her attention.

  She struggled against him, though her size was no match for his strength. He had the jump on her and she was worried about where it was going to go as she could feel his excitement growing against her. She didn’t get a bad vibe like before, but he was understandably pissed off from being drugged a few hours before. The biggest difference was that now she wanted to feel his hands on her, and even more so, she needed it. They both had felt this attraction from the moment they had laid eyes on each other.

  His hands were pushing her body against the grass, his mouth never leaving hers for a moment. He touched her ribs, and then went up to one of her soft mounds, his fingers tweaking her nipples roughly. Her struggle had stopped so abruptly that Michael was not sure how he had gotten to find himself on top of her. He was still a bit pissed that she had slipped something into his drink. Seeing her out there relaxed and smoking a joint though, he had quickly forgotten any anger he had been feeling. She was irresistible to him. He remembered her naked in the bathroom and at the creek. Her body felt even better below him then he could have imagined and he just couldn’t help himself. His anger was replaced with a lust that he had not experienced since his youth. He had that all-consuming desire to bury himself deep inside her.

  His hands found the bottom of her skirt and realized she must have changed since he had seen her last, though she was still wearing his shirt on top. He wanted to see that as a sign that maybe she did care for him. His fingers slowly crept up her leg. It was not until he had reached her panties that she started to protest anew.

  “Please stop. I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Do you really want me to stop?”

  “Yes.”

  Michael was not anticipating that answer. He sat back on his knees, looking at her red lips, bewildered expression, as well as those lust filled eyes. She still held the burning joint in her hand. Michael grabbed the joint and put it to his lips and sucked. Inhaling deep, he handed it back to her and crawled between her splayed legs. Her white panties beckoned to him like a beacon in the night. He heard
her gasp as he jerked her underwear to one side and took a nice long lick.

  “Smoke your joint and let me have a taste. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  Jessa seemed satisfied with the request, as well as with the statement, because she merely looked at him with legs slightly wider and took a nice long drag. The orange end lit up her face for a moment as she watched the back of his head.

  Michael smiled to himself and pulled her panties off. Lying on his stomach in the grass before her, he used his fingers to spread her even wider. Exposing her tiny pleasure spot, he attached to it with his mouth and started to suckle hard. She squirmed underneath him, while Michael used his forearms to hold her lower body down and keep her in his mouth. She tasted sweet to him as he drank from her like she was an oasis in the desert.

  Jessa’s fingers found themselves entwined in his hair, pulling him closer to her core. She needed the release that she felt she was so close to. Her hands were now on him like a vise as she pulled him into her wetness. He withdrew from her and all she could do was moan in frustration with the absence. Her eyes were glazed as she looked up at him from the grass.

  Michael did not leave her alone long though. He pulled his pants off and freed his iron rod in one fluid movement in front of her. The woman’s chest heaved when he revealed himself and her insides twitched in anticipation. She could already feel it inside of her and she clenched pleasurably at the thought.

  Michael knelt down between her legs, eagerly holding himself in his tightened fist. He put the head just at her weeping opening and waited at the slippery gates. He had to stop himself from plunging into her immediately.