by L. J. Hamlin
"Okay, but let me buy you a cup of coffee when we're in town? Just to make me feel better about putting you out?" Pace replies.
"That'd be nice, but not necessary." Dawson would love to go to coffee with Pace, but he doesn't want Pace to feel obligated to be nice to him.
Pace grins. "It's a selfish offer, really. I'd like to get to know you better. My sister raves about your books. She says they're the best shifter books, about shifters, written by a shifter. She'd kick me for passing up the opportunity to spend some time with you."
"You want to take me out to coffee?" Dawson asks, because he's not too sure what's going on here.
"Yes. I'd like to talk more with you after we go get fingerprinted. Kind of like the weirdest date ever," Pace replies brightly.
"Are you saying you've never been fingerprinted on a date before?" Dawson asks, looking for his keys and trying to hide his excitement at Pace's use of the word date.
"No, but I have been handcuffed." Pace winks, getting carefully to his feet. He has to put most of his weight on his uninjured right leg, but he manages to stand alone.
"Maybe I'd like to hear about that in the car," Dawson says, feeling a little hot under the collar.
"Maybe I'll tell you. If you give me a hand getting there, that is." Pace has this cheeky, boy next door smile going on that makes Dawson want to give him anything he wants.
Dawson helps Pace walk to the car, trying not to enjoy being so close to Pace, knowing that he'll sense Dawson's arousal if he gets turned on. He manages to get Pace into the passenger seat without popping an inappropriate boner, like he's back in high school.
They drive into town, and Dawson is ready to make small talk when Pace starts telling him about this kinky date he had and how being cuffed was only the start of it. Dawson can hardly concentrate on driving, listening to Pace's slightly husky voice talking about sex.
"You're a good storyteller. Maybe you should be the writer," Dawson says, feeling a little breathless as he parks the car close to the entrance of the police station.
"I'm only good at telling true stories. I couldn't create a world like you do. I mean, I've never read one of your books, but my sister says they are the best mysteries out there, that she never knows what's going to happen next. You know, even if after our coffee you decide you don't want to hang out, I'm going to have to take you up on your offer for an autograph for my sister," Pace says, opening the door and easing both his legs out carefully. Dawson gets out of the car and goes to the passenger side to help Pace get to his feet.
"I'd be happy to sign something for your sister, either way. I mean, you might get sick of me. I've just landed in your life because your protective spirit picked me to help you out." Dawson helps Pace start to walk toward the station.
"You didn't just help me out. You saved my life. And not to sound like some full on wacko, but I believe in fate. My godfather went to you, a stranger, a panther shifter, instead of tracking down a pack member. He trusted you enough to appear to you—that means something," Pace says softly.
"Maybe it does," Dawson agrees as they go into the police station.
Detective Carter has called ahead, so they're expected, which helps things go quicker. The officers know why they're there and take their prints, and then that's it. They are free to go.
"Still want to get coffee?" Dawson still wants to spend time with Pace, but he wants to give Pace an out if he wants one.
"Yeah. I'd love to. Do you have a favourite place?" Pace asks.
"I do. The coffee shop I live above. It's called The Cinnamon Swirl. We could go there? I have a parking spot close because I live there."
"I think I've been there. Great cupcakes. Yeah, let's go." Pace smiles, and together they hobble back to the car and get a still healing Pace in his seat, before Dawson drives them to the coffee shop.
They go in and get a small table in the corner and look through the menus. Then Dawson goes up to the counter and makes their order. It's not long before they're sitting, chatting over lattes and red velvet cupcakes. Pace has mentioned being hungry after being in the woods without food for so long.
"So tell me if this is too forward, but I was thinking we could go up to your apartment and make out like teenagers?" Pace suggests, licking frosting off of his upper lip, and he looks sexy but adorable at the same time. It's an alluring combination.
"I like that idea. But I need to be sure you're not just doing it to thank me for helping you. I don't need or want thanking. The ghost did most of the work," Dawson says.
"Wanting to be alone with you has nothing to do with wanting to thank you. I'm not going to lie, I do feel grateful to you, but that's not why I want to feel your lips against mine. I'm attracted to you. I want to see where feeling can lead." Pace reaches out and covers Dawson's hand with his.
"You might be disappointed. I don't own handcuffs," Dawson replies.
"If I need pinning down, I'm pretty sure you're up to the job without the help of handcuffs. I felt how strong you were when you picked me up. I've never met a panther shifter before. I had no idea how strong you guys were." Pace runs his fingers over Dawson's hand as he talks, and Dawson flushes.
"Let's go upstairs." Dawson helps Pace walk to his apartment. Dawson could afford a bigger place, but he likes being close to people. He doesn't want some big condo. He's always liked The Cinnamon Swirl. He'd spent hours writing in it, days maybe. It had only seemed natural, when the apartment above it opened up, to move into it.
"I like your place," Pace says, limping over to the couch, looking around as he does. Dawson's place is a little cluttered. He tends to collect stuff and has trouble letting things go, but he thinks his apartment works, shows a little of his personality.
"Thanks." Dawson sits beside Pace on the couch, afraid that things are about to get awkward.
But Pace doesn't seem nervous; he leans in, capturing Dawson's mouth in a gentle but firm, kiss. Dawson responds instantly, kissing back, his arms going around Pace. They end up shifting on the couch, till Dawson is lying over Pace, carefully avoiding Pace's still healing leg.
They make out like teenagers, just as Pace had suggested, and Dawson's cock grows hard as they kiss, pressed together, and he can feel Pace is the same.
"I, ah, I don't normally sleep with guys the same day I meet them," Dawson says, uncertain, looking down at Pace, who's lips and face are flushed, his blond hair a mess. He looks like the picture of sex, and Dawson aches to take him to bed.
"But you want to sleep with me?" Pace asks, arching into Dawson's body, like he's the cat shifter, not Dawson.
"Not gonna lie, I'd love to see you in my bed. But you've been through a lot. You almost died today, and I helped you. I don't want you sleeping with me because you feel grateful." Dawson feels himself giving in to his doubts as he lies there.
"Does this feel like I'm just grateful?" Pace asks, rubbing his hard cock against Dawson's leg.
"No, but…" Dawson breaks off when Pace uses his considerable strength to flip them both, till Pace is on top of Dawson, looking down at him, and damn, but Pace is gorgeous.
"As for almost dying? I didn't. You and my godfather saved me. And I see this as a pretty good way to celebrate not dying alone in the wood," Pace says firmly.
"You want to have sex with me? What happened to making out like teenagers?" Dawson teases, feeling a little better about Pace really wanting to be with him.
"I just said that to lure you up to your apartment. I'm sneaky like that. So as much as I'm enjoying kissing on your couch, can we go to your bedroom? Come on, a ghost led you to me in the forest. It's like fate we have sex," Pace says with a charming grin.
"Maybe I don't believe in fate," Dawson says, pushing Pace so he'll sit up, but taking his hand to lead Pace to his bedroom.
"You don't have to believe. I believe enough for the both of us. Now take me to bed." Pace grins.
"Is your leg up to it?" Dawson asks as they hobble towards his bedroom.
"As long a
s you don't plan any kinky acrobatics, I should be fine." Pace smiles. He's fun. That's one of the things Dawson is enjoying being around him for. You'd never think that Pace had almost been killed the night before, leading into the morning. He has a bright soul shining out of him, and Dawson really can't help being drawn to it.
"No handstands or backflips," Dawson replies with a wink.
They go into his bedroom, and Pace takes an unsteady step away from Dawson, then makes his way over to the bed. "You better have lube in here. From the way you keep manhandling me, I'm guessing you want to be on top, so I'd rather not be doing this on spit," Pace says easily, not arguing about who will top, which Dawson gets from a lot of shifters. Hell, a lot of men. But Pace seems okay with Dawson's dominant nature.
"I have lube, and am I that obvious? I try not to be too pushy right away," Dawson says, going to his bedside drawer to get a tube of lube. Then he sits down on the bed with his arm around Pace's waist.
"I haven't met a panther shifter before, but I know a dominant man when I see one. Me, I like sex, not fussy about who does what." Pace shrugs.
"Tell me if I get too pushy, though. You're not wrong that I like to take charge. Some people don't like it." Dawson hasn't dated anyone for a little while, but it's been a problem for some of the people he's slept with before. It's not like Dawson is super aggressive or anything. He just knows what he wants.
"I like it. Can we be done with the talking part? I like you. You like me. We'll be careful of my leg. Let's get naked." Pace smiles broadly and takes his shirt off as he speaks.
"Impatient," Dawson tuts, but he starts taking off his own clothes. He's just as eager as Pace to be naked and physical.
"I just know what I want," Pace replies, and Dawson smiles at the unwitting echo of his own thoughts. Once they're naked, Dawson pulls Pace close again and kisses him, letting his hands explore Pace's body, being careful not to bump his leg. He's wanted to touch Pace since he saw him in the forest, which feels like so long ago now, even though it was just this morning.
They lie on the bed, kissing and touching each other's bodies, hands relatively gentle. Dawson doesn't want to hurt Pace, and he's not really into rough sex anyway. He just likes a little bit of control. After a while, Dawson crawls down between Pace's legs with the lube in his hands. He slicks up his fingers, licking a teasing stripe just above Pace hips, on his lower stomach.
"Dawson," Pace groans.
"Keep still," Dawson orders. He licks Pace's cock, starting to suck him a little as his wet fingers find Pace's hole and start to work him open.
Pace moans, but Dawson can tell he's fighting to stay still as Dawson blows him. It seems to be Dawson's fingers that have Pace losing control though. He thrusts back against Dawson's hand, taking his fingers easily.
"I want you to fuck me," Pace says, the words coming out hungry, punctuated by ragged breaths.
A part of Dawson wants to tease Pace, make him wait, but he's desperate himself, so he lifts his head and moves back up Pace's body, claiming Pace's mouth and settling into position. Both being shifters, there's no need for condoms, as they can't catch those kinds of diseases, which Dawson is thankful for. He wants to feel Pace bare.
"Yeah, come on," Pace whispers as Dawson pushes into him. Pace wraps his legs around Dawson's waist, his arms pulling Dawson closer.
"This okay?" Dawson asks as he bottoms out.
"Yes, just move, okay? You feel perfect," Pace replies between pants.
They start moving together. Dawson thrusting his cock into Pace, Pace lifting his hips up to meet Dawson's thrusts. It feels good, really damn good. Dawson kisses Pace roughly, his kisses rougher than the movement of his body, but the contrast feels amazing.
Pace's nails scrape down Dawson's back, making him groan loudly. Dawson breaks the kiss to nuzzle at Pace's neck, kissing and sucking the delicate skin and loving the way it makes Pace squirm. Dawson can feel his orgasm getting closer, so he speeds up his thrusts, wanting Pace to come.
Dawson moves one of his hands between them, wrapping it around Pace's cock, stroking it in time to his thrusts, kissing the curses off Pace's lips.
"I want to feel you come," Dawson pants. He wants to feel Pace come around his cock, wants to feel that before he finishes.
He strokes Pace's cock, thrusting harder than before, a little rougher. He licks Pace's soft, pale throat, and the strong urge to bite surges up into him. Dawson resists, but Pace arches his neck up, like he wants it and mumbles, "Bite me," so Dawson lets go and bites Pace.
The moment Dawson's teeth push into Pace skin, he comes, and it feels amazing as Pace's body goes tight around his cock. Dawson doesn't last long after that. He thrusts a few times, and then pleasure explodes through his system. Dawson slows to a stop, kissing Pace the whole time.
They pull apart a little, and Dawson grabs a cloth to clean them both up, and by cloth he means a t-shirt he'd been wearing. Then he collapses on the bed, sweat cooling on his body. Pace leans against him, his head coming to rest on Dawson's chest.
"Umm, sorry about the biting thing?" Dawson says after a while, his fingers brushing over the already healing bite marks.
"Don't be sorry. I liked it. Not normally my thing, but it felt right," Pace says, yawning.
"Want to crash here a while? I can drive you home later."
"If you don't mind." Pace looks a little hesitant for the first time since they met.
"I could use a nap, and naps are always better with someone to hold," Dawson says, nuzzling Pace's neck.
They fall asleep wrapped up in each other, and wake up still tangled in each other, to the sound of Dawson's cell phone ringing. He goes to find it. It ends up being the police checking in; they found the trap in the forest, but have no new information, but they'll continuing looking into it.
Dawson tells all of that to Pace as they get dressed. "I hope they find who did it. Anyone in my pack could have been hurt. We need to be careful." Pace sighs.
Dawson drives Pace back to his family home, where the rest of the pack live around the forest. They sit outside in the car, talking about nonsense, putting off parting.
"So, would it be weird to ask to see you again?" Pace asks after a while.
"No, I'd like that. I'll be in the cabin for a few weeks writing, and after that, the apartment in the city isn't too far. I'd like it if we could see more of each other," Dawson replies. He likes Pace. He feels drawn to him. Pace isn't just a pretty face.
"Okay, well, I have your number. I'll be in touch." Pace kisses him quickly, then gets out of the car and heads into his home.
Dawson heads back to his cabin, hoping he will hear from Pace.
That night, Dawson is in the cabin writing when he gets the feeling he's being watched again. But this time he's not worried about looking up. When he looks out the window, there are two wolfs come to visit him, one a spirit, the other flesh and blood.
Dawson smiles. Pressing save on his work, he gets up. Stripping off his clothes, he turns into his panther form after opening the door, and then he joins the wolves for a run. He runs with Pace, playing with the wolf. He's not worried about finding any danger, because he can tell that the spirit wolf is watching over them both.
Fin
About the Author
LJ is a disabled queer writer in her late twenties, she loves writing all kinds of different books with a romance twist and has been writing all her life. Writing can often be hard due to pain but can also often be an escape from it and it’ll always be part of her life.
re