by Zoe Chant
Well, that clearly wasn’t going to happen. He would have to find a quiet patch of ground somewhere and shift. His thick bear pelt was better insulation against the cool night air than any number of sleeping bags.
Of course, that meant being able to find a quiet patch of ground. He wasn’t sure how far away he was from the trail, and he didn’t want to wake up to a troop of Scouts poking him with a stick and screaming.
Mark blinked, willing his eyes to adjust better to the darkness. The sky was full of stars, glimmering brilliantly this far from the city. Beside him, the river was a coiling black ribbon. If not for the subtle glimmer of starlight on its surface, it would have been invisible in the shadows.
He’d found the river after he realized he had no idea how to read the map he’d brought, on the basis that if the end of the river was in the foothills of the mountains, the start of it would be somewhere deep in the wilderness.
Maybe when he told Tom about this trip, he could swing that as “navigating by the land”.
Craaaaaaawk!
Mark ducked as something swooped past his head. Time to move on. He wasn’t worried about whatever-it-was flapping around hurting him—he was big enough to deal with most wild creatures. But he didn’t want to distress any creatures that could sense the bear in him.
Too late.
Mark had a split-second impression of huge wings beating in front of his face. He jumped backwards in shock. His foot slipped on a slippery river-stone and he fell heavily, scraping the side of his face on something sharp.
He swore out loud and slapped his hand to his face. It came away sticky.
“Okay, bird! Calm down, I’m leaving already!”
Maybe he should just go ahead and shift here and now. He could leave his pack and clothes by the side of the river and pick them up in the morning. He was probably far enough from the track now that no helpful hiker would find it and raise a missing person alarm.
Mark put his head down and charged blindly forward into the night. He started unbuttoning his shirt, ready to shrug it and his pack off as he transformed.
“Hello?”
Mark froze. There was someone else here in the forest. Someone who had heard him. And he had been about to shift!
He quickly flexed his fingers. Fingers, not claws—good. The only thing worse than someone seeing him as a giant bear with his human clothes scattered on the ground around him, would be someone getting a glimpse of him half-transformed. If there were local shifters in this area, the last thing they needed was for someone to start spreading rumors of half-human, half-animal creatures roaming the hills.
“Is there someone out there?” the voice called again. It was a woman, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Inside him, Mark’s bear twitched its nose, suddenly interested.
Mark concentrated, sifting through the various scents on the night air. Usually he wouldn’t be able to do this in human form, but he was so close to almost-shifting, his senses were more sensitive.
Apart from him, this woman was the only human-smelling thing in a few miles. And she smelled … Familiar.
He shook his head. The important thing was not to scare her. Mark wasn’t stupid; he knew that any woman would feel wary at meeting a strange man out in the middle of nowhere. Especially one as big as he was.
Mark cleared his throat. There wasn’t much he could do about his size, or, well, the fact that he was probably bleeding all over his face. But at least he could sound friendly.
“Hello?” he shouted, in the direction the woman’s scent was coming from. “Is there someone there?”
Following the woman’s voice, Mark walked farther upriver, until he caught sight of an electric light shining through the darkness. The woman was standing at the top of a rocky slope, pointing a flashlight down towards the river. Squinting, Mark could just make her out.
His heart began to pound as his eyes focused on her. A sudden wild rush of energy filled his veins, as though he’d stepped on a live wire.
Jamie.
His entire body ached to be near her. He wanted to see her, to kiss her face, to discover her inch by inch again. To touch her. Run his hands across her body, and hold her close. He wanted to run straight to her—he could easily have bounded up the slope, even with the pack on his back—
What was wrong with him? He couldn’t go racing towards her. She’d think he was some sort of crazy axe murderer. Even if she recognized him, she’d think he was a psycho.
And he couldn’t run off, either, even though that might be the best idea, given how crazy his body was acting. Running off into the darkness would freak her out just as much as running towards her.
He forced himself to walk slowly, one foot after the other. When he reached the woman, he saw that her face was flushed, as though she was the one whose heart was racing like she’d just run a mile.
“Hi,” Mark said, his voice rough.
Her eyes were just as he remembered, the vivid grey-blue of glacier meltwater. Around them, her long, pale eyelashes flicked up like delicate fern fronds. Mark’s whole body ached to take another step forward and take her in his arms.
Mark had spent a lot of time rehearsing what he would say when he found the woman he thought was his mate again. Now that she was standing right in front of him, he couldn’t remember any of it.
His eyes wandered further, soaking in every inch he could see of her. Under her blush, her face was thickly freckled, a constellation of dots from the tip of her nose to her earlobes. Her hair, a strawberry blonde that reminded him of sunsets and firelight, was pulled back into a simple ponytail, but a few strands had escaped to fall across her face. Her scruffy, unkempt look was miles away from how she’d looked at the wedding. And she was all the more perfect for it.
Mark bit back a sudden impulse to tuck the stray strands of hair behind one of those freckled ears. He cleared his throat.
“I … I’ve got your shoe,” he said. “I mean—oh, shit—that makes me sound like a complete freak, doesn’t it…”
He snapped his mouth shut before he could explain the reason he had the shoe with him. “I wanted to be able to smell it and track you by the smell” probably wasn’t the most romantic pick-up line.
“Great,” she said, sounding as stunned as he felt. “Thanks. I was missing that. Shoe. Um.”
There was a pause. Mark tried to think of something to say, but no words were making it past his internal shrieks.
Don’t explain why you have her shoe. Don’t do it. DON’T DO IT.
“I—” he started, and then stopped as Jamie raised one hand and poked him in the chest.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said quickly. “Just … Testing. Huh. You’re really … Real, aren’t you. And really here.”
She poked him again. “Yep. Here you are. Um.”
Mark found his tongue again. “My name’s Mark. Mark Visser.”
“You’re related to Tom!” She sounded as though some final puzzle piece had slotted into place. “I’m Jamie. Jamie Sullivan.”
She took a deep breath.
“So, uh … How are things?”
“Great!” said Mark with forced brightness. Great—and very strange.
“It, uh, it sounds like you had a bit of a run-in with the condors back there…?”
“Condors?” Mark frowned. He knew condors were big, ugly carrion-eaters with weird naked heads. He hadn’t thought there were any in this area, though. “Is that what they were?”
“There’s a breeding pair nested on the cliff by the river,” Jamie said. Her voice, which had been strangely breathy, became steadier as she repeated what was obviously a well-rehearsed script. “It’s part of a breeding program to restore the species to the mountains here. Coco and Louie are the first birds we’ve released who’ve paired off, so we’re asking people to please stay clear of the area while they establish their nest.”
“I can understand why,” Mark said. He turned his head, staring back in the direction of his feathery attackers.
/> Jamie gasped. “Your face!”
He put one hand to the cheek he’d scraped when the bird—the condor—had dive-bombed him. His fingers came away tacky. He was still bleeding. “Oh, damn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize ...”
“Well, that settles it,” Jamie interrupted him firmly. “Follow me. I’ll patch that up for you, and give you the lecture on the birds at the same time.” She started striding back towards her tent. Mark watched her, feeling as though he’d been hit over the head with the stupid stick.
“What are you waiting for? Come on!” Jamie ordered him firmly, and his legs kicked into gear.
* * *
JAMIE
Jamie tried not to think too hard about the extremely tall, extremely sexy man behind her. Mark. It was nice to be able to put a name to the face.
And it was nice to see his face.
And it was nice to see the rest of him.
When they first met, Mike had been dressed up for the wedding in a format suit, tie, the works. The tailored pants and jacket had done an amazing job outlining his strong frame, but he’d seemed uncomfortable in them. Here, dressed in hiking pants and shirt, slightly scruffy and with more than a little dirt on him, he looked…
Jamie knelt down in front of her tent, glad she was facing away from Mike so he couldn’t see the hot blush that blazed across her cheeks. The fact was, he looked great. She’d thought he was hot at the wedding, but here in the mountains? Phew.
She quickly unzipped the tent and rummaged for her first-aid kit without looking back to check if he had followed her into the campsite.
He had.
God, that was weird. She hadn’t even looked, but she knew he was there. And it wasn’t that she was listening out for him—or that she could listen out for him. Now that he wasn’t being attacked by broody vultures, he moved through the undergrowth quietly and confidently.
She turned around, first aid kit in hand, and gulped. Mark had seated himself on the ground, leaning with his back against the log she used as a bench. He was so tall, she would be able to sit on the log next to him and their heads would be almost the same height.
The thought of sitting next to him, their bodies warm and close in the cool night, sent a shiver of anticipation down Jamie’s spine. She hefted the first-aid kit and told herself to stop being silly. What had happened at Kes’s wedding had been a, a weird(ly incredible) one-off. He was probably as uncomfortable as she was about their unexpected reunion.
Just ignore how hot he is, she told herself sternly. Come on, girl—less than a week in the wilderness and you’re ready to jump the first guy you see? Get a grip!
Jamie took a deep, not-particularly-calming breath and strode over to where Mark was sitting before she could wimp out. She put the light on the stump-table and sat down heavily beside him—too heavily. The log shifted under her sudden weight and almost sent her tumbling backwards. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and stopped her from falling.
Jamie looked up into deep, warm eyes.
“Thanks,” she said briskly, and looked away. Once again, she wished she had lit a campfire for the evening. At least that would give her an excuse for why her cheeks were suddenly burning.
Mark smiled softly. “I figure one of us injuring ourselves on the landscape tonight is embarrassing enough. Here, I can—” He reached out for the first aid kit.
Jamie pulled it away. “Don’t be silly,” she said, rummaging through for the antiseptic and bandages. “Just turn your head so the light’s on your cheek, please.”
He kept still under her hands, not even flinching when she washed bits of dirt and bark from the cut on his face. She moved her hand and felt his eyelashes flicker against her skin.
Jamie focused, very hard, on the bloody graze under her fingers. But as she gently cleansed the wound with antiseptic, and covered it with a white gauze bandage, it was hard to keep her attention from wandering.
She could feel heat coming off his body. He would be warm from walking, of course, but this seemed something more than that—like his body was a campfire, warm and inviting. Safe.
She fixed the bandage in place and smoothed the tape, her fingers lingering just too long on Mark’s face. Her own face was hot. And it wasn’t the only thing. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, caught alight from sitting so close to Mark, from touching him.
“I, um,” she mumbled.
She was meant to be giving him the lecture on condor nursery safety. Instead, she couldn’t help thinking that they were still sitting close enough that if she just leaned forwards…
She stood up. “So, uh … Have you eaten yet? I…”
Mark was looking up at her with a strange expression. Except it wasn’t strange, just unfamiliar. Jamie had seen lust on men’s faces before—but seldom directed at her.
Except for that one time, one week ago.
The electric restlessness she had felt since Kes’s wedding stilled, leaving a feeling of growing bliss in its wake.
She was standing just in front of him, and as he looked up at her she realized this meant her most sensitive parts were the same height as his head. A tingle of arousal shot straight up from between her legs and out her mouth as a soft, “Oh.”
“Jamie…” Mark’s voice was rough, almost raw with need.
Jamie’s mind spun. The logical side of her brain was thinking: Again? Really?
The rest of her replied: Oh, hell, yes.
She stood still, her own breath loud in her ears. Every cell in her body wanted her to fall forward, to collapse into this strong, mind-meltingly gorgeous man and let him have her way with her. Her imagination leaped ahead, thinking of what might happen, what he might do to her.
Which was—nothing. Mark was sitting still. Utterly still. He was looking at her as though she was the sexiest woman on Earth, as though he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. And he was clearly … Well. Even sitting down, she could see that he was hard. For her.
But he was holding himself back. She could see it in the tense muscles in his neck and arms, the way he was clutching the log like a lifeline.
“Jamie…” His voice was as strained as his body. “I feel like—we have a lot to talk about…”
On the one hand, yes, Jamie thought. On the other…
“Maybe later?” she breathed, and stepped forward.
He reached up to her, strong hands stroking up the sides of her legs and around to cup the curve of her ass. She moaned as her body thrilled under his touch. He pulled her closer to him, holding her tight.
“Oh, God, Jamie,” he groaned under his breath. “I want—do you?”
She almost laughed as she realized he was as tongue-tied as she was. No wonder they’d never got so far as exchanging names last time.
“Yes,” she cried, and then gasped as he pressed his face between her legs. She felt his mouth working against her through the layers of her panties and trousers. “Wait,” she panted, fighting with her fly. ”Please—”
His hands moved like lightning, and suddenly her trousers were undone. He pulled them down to her knees and held her close. His mouth was hot against her skin, kissing her legs, her hips, her—
“Oh-h-h,” she gasped as he pressed his lips against her clit. She reached out blindly, grabbing his hair for balance. He lapped at her greedily with fast, hard strokes. Both his hands were behind her now, gripping her hard, pulling her in and moving her so he could reach further, deeper inside her.
She was so slick and hot, so ready for him. She wound her fingers through his hair, shamelessly opening herself up to him. But it wasn’t enough.
“Mark—please—I need—”
The words had barely left her lips when he leaned back and pulled her down after him. She fell astride him, legs still tangled in her trousers. He was still wearing his shirt. She dragged it off him, and ran her fingers down the hard muscles of his chest. He moaned and bucked against her.
She moved down, kicking off her shoes and trousers as she scrabbl
ed at his belt. She could feel his cock straining underneath, hot and hard and ready. She rubbed her hand over it as she unzipped Mark’s fly and heard him groan in mingled pleasure and frustration.
His hands were all over her as she undressed him. Her arms, her breasts, her face—she caught one finger in her mouth and sucked it hard before pulling his boxers out of the way.
Mark’s cock sprung free, thick and hot under her. She wrapped one hand around it, relishing the feel of silky skin moving over hard, unyielding flesh. She remembered the feel of him inside her before and almost cried out from longing for it again.
Jamie knelt down and ran her tongue from the base of Mark’s cock to the tip in one long lick. She glanced up at him, eyes wicked.
“Don’t torture me,” he groaned. She straddled him and leaned forward, kissing him on the lips for the first time. As he teased his tongue against her mouth she lowered herself onto his cock.
She was so wet he slid into her easily, so smoothly it was as though her body didn’t realize just how big he was until he was fully inside her. Jamie gasped as she stretched around him. She could feel every inch of him—and while she might hurt in the morning, for now, this was glorious.
Mark moved his hands back around her waist as she leaned back, sitting astride him. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to lose this incredible feeling of fullness, didn’t want to pull back even for a second. Instead she rolled her hips, feeling his cock press inside her. She let her head fall back. Tiny electric sparks of pleasure began to form deep inside her as she rode him, slowly, luxuriating in sensation.
Their rhythm became faster, two bodies moving as one. Jamie opened her eyes and saw Mark looking back at her. The idea of him watching her as she basked in the feeling of his cock inside her sent a fresh wave of arousal roaring through Jamie. She put her hands against his chest and moved her weight, lifting herself up off his cock and then pushing down again. He met her thrust for thrust, eyes locked on to hers. The world shrunk down to nothing but their two bodies, entwined together, moving together, and Jamie’s orgasm hit her like an avalanche. She cried out as pleasure burst through her, filling her body and mind with white-hot ecstasy.