by Lynn Lorenz
“Rhea, baby, is this—?” he couldn’t ask. He was scared she would say no.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She hadn’t looked away from the box. She just nodded.
“Baby, I need to make sure we are clear. Is this what I think it is?” he asked with a shaky breath of his own.
“It’s my collar, okay?” she said on a rushed breath. Jones’ heart tried to jump clean out of his chest. She was giving him her collar! In the BDSM community, a collar was akin to a wedding ring. Some took it more seriously than the piece of paper a marriage license came on.
With shaking hands he reached out and took hold of the necklace, a thick chain with a heart padlock in the center. He flipped the lock over and saw the inscription—one simple word. Mine.
“Does it still mean the same for you as when you bought it?” He prayed, harder than he had in a long time.
“Yes, if you want it to,” she told him. She finally looked up and watched his every move.
“I want it to.” He nodded as he slipped the necklace over his head. The chain was short enough it sat on his collar bone but not so short that when he changed into his wolf he would need to take it off.
Rhea placed her hand over the pendant and smiled up at him and said one word.
“Mine.”
He felt a large snap inside, something he’d never experienced before. He felt alive, he felt good, and he felt his wolf start to prowl around under his skin. Rhea must have noticed something because her eyes went wide. She dropped the empty box on the floor, and put a hand out toward him to ward him off.
“Now, Carter, let’s not be hasty,” she stood and started to back away. When Jones smiled at her, he knew all she could see where his fangs.
Chapter 7
Rhea watched as Jones’ eyes turned to that of his wolf and his fangs grew.
“Think about it, do you really want to do this?” she started to back away from him. Her heart was beating and her stomach tightened, not in fear, but in excitement.
She didn’t know why she’d pulled that box out. It was a stupid move, but seeing him, touching him, being with him again, made it seem like the last years hadn’t happened. It was like they’d never been apart.
“But don’t you think it fairer this way?” he came off the bed and started to take slow steps toward her.
“No, I don’t. Stop right there, boy.” She infused her voice with her Domme control, but it didn’t affect him. He simply smiled broader and continued coming at her.
“Carter,” she squeaked as he lunged. Rhea dodged around him, trying to get to the door. He was too quick. She’d barely got her hand on the handle before he caught her around the waist, lifted her off of the ground, and trapped her body against the wall with his own.
“What can be fairer than this?” he moved the soft fall of her hair off of her shoulder. He bent and ran his tongue along the area where her neck met her shoulder. Rhea pushed back into him, tipping her head to give him better access. Her body started to burn from that move alone.
“I’ll wear your collar and you,” he scraped his fangs over her neck, pulling a shudder from her body, “will wear my mark,” he said before biting down.
Rhea screamed out as an orgasm stronger than any she’d had before ripped through her body. She couldn’t help riding the thigh he forced between her legs. He didn’t pull back until her shudders started to subside.
“God!” Rhea panted as the feeling began to return to her limbs.
“God had nothing to do with it, baby.” She could hear the smirk in Jones’ voice as he licked his bite closed.
Rhea laughed. “You are such a fathead.”
“You make my head swell,” he told her, choosing to misunderstand her completely.
Rhea had enough of his cocky attitude; she reached back and pulled his head down so she could whisper directly into his ear.
“The next time I come like that you had better be tied down and in me, boy.” She nipped at his ear.
Carter nuzzled into her neck and pulled her closer.
“As my Mistress commands,” he told her as he set her back on her feet and fell to his knees. Rhea looked down at his bent head and smiled.
She could see her collar shining back at her from around his neck. Her own neck throbbed with a delightful ache where he’d marked her as his mate, his woman, and his owner. She stroked a hand over his head. If there was ever a more perfect picture than this giant of a shifter male on his knees in front of her, she’d never seen it.
* * * *
Three days later…
“And these are the people you want me to be nice to?” Rhea asked as she leaned back against Jones’ car, watching the sight that greeted them on arrival.
“Yup.” He grinned at her like a goof. Rhea rolled her eyes at him and looked back to the people in front of her.
“I’m going to cover you in wax and strip you bare!” The woman Carter had pointed out as the new Alpha's mate yelled.
Wow, was that really little Laney St Clair?
“Laney-girl, calm down.” Rhea raised her eyebrows at the man holding the spitfire. Jones pointed him out as Heath Marsterson.
“Bring it on brat! I will crush you into dirt!” If her memory served her right, that was Duke St Clair yelling at his little sister, being held back by someone who looked distinctly like Harvey Wallbanger.
What the heck was going on around here?
“Yep, this is really a safe place for me to come back to.” Rhea rolled her eyes at Jones as he took her hand and lead her toward the house.
“Hi guys. Just going to show my new mate around the house, see ya at dinner.” Jones called as they passed the groups.
Rhea counted the seconds after the stunned silence before all hell broke loose.
“New mate?” Heath asked a slight frown on his face. Rhea could see she was going to enjoy meeting this new uptight alpha.
“What do you mean new mate? No one told me.” Laney huffed.
“Well they don’t have to tell you everything brat!” Duke threw in.
“Yes they do, I am like Queen and everything!” Laney yelled back.
Jones dropped an arm around her shoulders as the new couple turned to watch Heath scoop his wife out of the air as she lunged at her brother.
“Welcome home, my Mistress.” Jones whispered into her ear.
Home? Yes it did feel like home. She hadn’t realized how much she missed being part of a pack, even one as crazy as this.
She snuggled closer to Jones and said softly, “It’s good to be home, boy.”
The End
Publisher’s Note
Please help this author's career by posting an honest review wherever you purchased this book.
About Cherie Nicholls
I am *takes a deep breath* a daughter, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, aunt-in-law, great-aunt, godmother, and resident IT geek for UCW. All that at not even forty yet! I have been writing for most of my life but kept it my "dirty little secret" until I saw an advert in the back of a Mills and Boon book for the New Voices Comp 2010. Although I didn’t win, entering that competition opened up a whole new literary world! I decided it was finally time to give writing a serious try.
Now I can be found at just about any time, even at my normal day job, jotting notes and thoughts down for my stories. I think my family, friends, and colleagues are used to me having whole conversations with myself now as I flesh out different characters. Thankfully they don’t all walk the other way when they see me coming.
I am a paranormal romance fan, and love to read and write in that genre. Show me a shifter wolf, tiger, or bear and I am one happy bunny.
Ripped Awake
By Vanessa North
Blurb
Lacey Evans is tired of waiting for something to happen. She always expected more from life. Then a mysterious stranger comes into her diner, confused and needing help, and finally she catches a glimpse of a passion exceeding expectation.
Rip went into hiber
nation in 1911. When he opens his eyes to a changed world in 2012, Lacey is the only part of it that makes sense. What can a one hundred thirty-year-old bear shifter offer a modern woman?
Dedication
To my amazing crit partners, Becca and Nickie. Thanks gals. Vanessa.
Chapter 1
Waking up was hard to do.
Sure, it was like this every spring, but for some reason, this year, Rip felt the cold of the winter in his bones like he never had before. His joints ached, especially his knees, screaming in protest when he tried to put weight on them. Hell, he was only thirty-five years old. The early spring chill filled the air of his cave, sending him fumbling into the corner of the cave where his human clothes were hidden. The shirt had moth holes in it, he realized grimly as he pulled it over his bare chest, but the pants were fine, though they smelled musty. He’d have to find a human to barter with for new clothes. He stumbled to the cave opening, felt his way in the darkness from the mouth of the cave to a nearby tree, where he braced himself to take care of nature’s call.
Bleary-eyed and confused from his hibernation, he didn’t recognize how different the air smelled until his bladder was empty and he started to think of other needs. Food. Sex. Maybe not in that order. He was hungry. Damned hungry. After a long winter sleep, he wanted nothing more than to find a warm female to fuck the rest of his weariness away. And if she could cook, well, that would be nice too. But the world smelled wrong, foreign. No trace of compatible female anywhere, and other smells, dark, ugly smells, tainted the night air.
A light shone in his eyes, startling him, making him flinch. What the hell could make that kind of light?
“Park Ranger, who’s there?” a voice called out of the darkness. Rip bristled. Who indeed? All the bears in this area knew this was his territory. He snarled, throwing a hand over his eyes to block the light.
“Sir? Did you get a permit to camp here?” The voice came closer. Rip sniffed again. Human. He’d cautioned the others about humans moving in during the winters, but they hadn’t listened. The next bear’s council would have to deal with this menace. But for now…
“Permit?” The word felt strange. He knew what it meant, sort of, but couldn’t put it together with the other words the man had said. “Could you shine your—” what was that thing? He settled on an unsettling word, “—torch someplace else? It hurts my eyes.”
“Oh, sorry.” Blissful darkness again before the human continued. “Torch? Are you, British? What brings you to Vermont? Listen man, we don’t generally allow camping in this area of the park. There are bears nearby. You don’t want to wake a hibernating bear.”
Thank the gods.
“Um, I guess I got lost.” Lost, that could work. If the humans knew he was hibernating in that cave, why would they be shining their lights around here?
“What’s your name, sir? I can give you a ride back to the park entrance and you can call someone to pick you up.”
“Call someone?”
“Yeah, you won’t get decent reception up here on the mountain, but I get a few bars over by the park entrance. More bars and whatnot, except middle of nowhere Vermont. C’mon, man.”
Rip studied the man as he approached. His clothing was strange, with some sort of shiny fabric. He wore a hat and boots, and had a small firearm strapped to his waist. But his face was kind and his smile friendly.
“I’m Eddie. I’m one of the rangers for the park. Nice to meet you.” The man extended his hand. Rip struggled to remember the protocol for interacting with humans. A hand clasp? He mirrored the man’s gesture, was relieved when Eddie shook his hand briskly.
“I’m Rip.”
“Rip? Cool name. I’ll go get the truck; how long do you think it will take you to break down your campsite?”
Rip was lost again. “Campsite?”
“Dude, are you okay? You seem really disoriented. Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”
“Hospital?”
“Can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk.” Rip bristled again, sniffing the air. Something was very wrong. How long had he been asleep? His gut clenched and dread filled him. “Eddie?”
“Yeah, c’mon man.” The other man reached for his arm as if to help him walk.
“Eddie, what’s the date?” Rip was familiar with the human calendars. The bears observed them somewhat, because it made interacting with humans easier. It had been November 1911, which meant it should be February, maybe March now.
“February 29th, 2012. Leap year. Man, you really are out of it. Let’s get you warmed up and get someone to have a look at you.”
* * * *
"Behind you, Lacey." Carrie, one of the servers, slipped around behind Lacey as she poured two cups of coffee and set them on her tray. She waited until the other woman reached over her head to retrieve a set of salt and pepper shakers and stepped back before she moved.
"Hey, Carrie, I didn't realize you were working tonight." Lacey dragged a hand across her forehead. She usually had the schedule firm in her head. She was sure it had been her other server, Carrie’s sister Terri, who had been scheduled to work tonight.
"I took Terri's shift again. Hope that's okay." Twins Terri and Carrie, of the rhyming names and matching twenty-year old lifestyles, which often included bailing on work at the last minute, were decent servers, but in a bigger restaurant, neither of them would ever be up for employee of the month. Even in Lacey’s Place, where they each had a one in three chance, they weren’t up for the honor very often.
Lacey only had the two of them and Stanley. Stanley, who never cooked on Sundays. Stanley, who threatened to quit if she applied for a liquor license. Stanley, who asked her to marry him six months ago and never looked her in the eye again after she turned him down as gently as possible. What the hell am I going to do about Stanley?
In spite of her motley crew of misfit employees, Lacey somehow managed to keep the diner open another winter, pouring coffee for skiers and making small talk with the locals.
Only Lacey knew how close the Place had come to closing.
And she wasn't telling. Her brother, Jordan, had bailed her out with a very low-interest loan, but she’d need more than the best pie on the mountain to pay him back.
She had a rich fantasy life which didn't involve working her fingers to the bone to keep a business running in this economy. Nor did it involve marrying Stanley. But she kept the business running anyway, and wondered if someday the fantasy would walk in her door.
The bells chimed as she dropped the cups of coffee on her tray off to the out-of-towners at the corner booth with a smile and a nod. They were mulling over her sparse menu as if they’d never heard of hamburgers before.
Expectancy rent the air. Always, in that split second between the moment she heard the chimes and the one in which she looked up, she could feel it, that sense something was about to happen. Not that anything ever did.
When she finally did look up, she saw Eddie, one of the rangers from the park. Eddie liked his coffee black and was a pretty good tipper most nights. Lacey smiled and waved a hello. No, he was no fantasy, Eddie, but her regular customers always made her smile.
The air sucked out of the room as Eddie turned to the man behind him and tugged him into the diner.
Holy shit.
The man was huge, hairy, and fucking gorgeous. He had a raw, earthy, manly vibe about him. Handsome, but unpretentious. He looked like he’d walked off a movie set. A western, or maybe something about loggers. But something was wrong. Really wrong. As if he were a character in that western-logger flick, the man seemed awe-stricken at the sight of her diner, carefully decorated to look like a ’50s throwback. Eddie pointed at one of the booths, indicating the other guy should sit, and then made his way over to her.
"Hey Lacey, how's business tonight?"
"Slow. What's up, Eddie, who's the heartthrob?"
"Heartthrob? Hardly. Lace, I found this guy out in the woods, by the bear caves. He's confused
, I don't know if he's got a head injury or what, but when I got him to the car, he freaked the hell out. I stopped here to try and calm him. You still got some of that tea you gave me that time I was sick after the accident?" Lacey remembered the accident out at the park. Some hiker had fallen into a ravine and had his leg crushed under a rock. Poor Eddie had been the one to find the body during the search.
"Yeah, I keep some chamomile in the back. I'll brew some for him. Coffee for you?"
"Thanks, Lace. I'll get him out of your diner if he starts to cause a scene, but I can’t drive with him throwing a fit. Poor dude is a mess."
"That's too bad." Lacey looked over Eddie's shoulder at the man, who was staring back at her with storm clouds on his face. Even with his brow furrowed in anger or confusion, he was striking. His eyes were a soft brown, peering out under dark brows. His beard looked soft to the touch, framing full lips. A jolt of attraction worked through her, spearing deep. She could almost feel those lips skimming down her body, the softness of his beard tickling, tempting, and teasing. God, she loved a man with a beard.
She didn't love a man who was a mess.
"I'll brew the tea. Be right back." She smiled at Eddie, patting him on the shoulder. "And I'll send Carrie out with some pie on me. Chocolate pecan tonight, my Gran’s recipe."
"My favorite." Eddie grinned. "Thanks, Lace."
"Yeah, anytime, Ed."
Chapter 2
Something had gone very wrong with Rip’s hibernation. There was no explanation for waking up to a changed world. But changed it had, and far more than a few months’ worth of changes.
One hundred years.
How in hell had he slept one hundred years?
Of course, he’d gone a little crazy. He felt badly about that now. He’d heard of automobiles, had even seen a few from afar, but the calm way Eddie ushered him inside that prowling death-trap … he shuddered.
However, Eddie brought him here, to this place. Lacey’s Place. And suddenly, the weight of one hundred years didn’t seem so significant. Eddie had made him promise he’d stay at the table while he used the facilities. He stole a glance at the woman Eddie called “Lacey.” Even though everything else in the world outside his cave smelled wrong, she smelled like heaven. She wore her brown hair tied back in a prim knot, but he could tell when he saw her in sunlight, it would throw red and gold, chestnut and coffee back at him. She had blue eyes and a serious set to her gorgeous lips which made him want to tease a smile to them. Or a kiss from them. She looked up at him then, and he was caught studying her. He offered a hesitant smile and she smiled back.