A message popped up on her screen. It was an emoji of a hand, with thumb and forefinger touching, forming an O. And to reinforce the point, some words: Are you ok? She shut the app down and threw the phone on her bed. She wasn’t even going to answer. She was done with Olsen. She never wanted to lay eyes on him again.
Olsen sat on his bed, watching as the green dot beside Dolores’ profile disappeared, indicating that she’d gone from online to offline. She’d seen his message. And he could see from the GPS locator that she was at home. Just one of the many things she’d taught him over the past few weeks. He sighed. He owed everything to Dolores. His life in Hope Valley. Still being part of the clan. The fact that he now had the reading age of the average nine-year old. Hopefully she’d come around and realize that he’d never hurt her. All he wanted to do was protect her. And what she’d told him last night about the fire that had left her sweet face scarred made him burn with anger. He leapt to his feet. He was going to deal with that right now. He’d told her last night that there was no way that asshole was going to get away with what he’d done. Six months in jail. The human law was a joke.
19
Two days later, Dolores’ period came. She let out a long breath of relief. At least she wasn’t about to become a single mom. A single mom who’d have to hide the fact that she didn’t know whether her baby was conceived willingly or not. She hated the fact that she still couldn’t remember anything about that night. Her bruises had deepened in color, blooming black and blue, and she made sure she wore long-sleeved shirts to hide the fingerprints on her upper arm. She also had some weird red marks on her sides, kind of like rope burns. As if her shirt had been torn off of her.
Her evenings were lonely now, without Olsen turning up on her doorstep, blue eyes narrowed, lips curled in a self-conscious greeting. But she was determined not to think about him. And she deleted Shiftr from her phone. She wasn’t cut out for shifter men. Or any men. Men just hurt you, she reminded herself. They just take what they want. And then they leave you in ruins.
Days passed, and her mood sunk lower and lower. She loved being at the school, but as soon as she got home, emptiness washed over her. Maybe it was time to get another cat. But she still missed Mr Tiddles so much. She’d sustained the burns on her face and body from going back into the house to try to find him. The firefighters had done their best to stop her, but she’d been determined not to leave him alone. It had been too late though. The house was too smoky and hot, and her shirt caught fire. In the end, a firefighter with breathing equipment had dragged her out, just as one of the upper floors collapsed. They never found Mr Tiddles among the charred remains, but she knew it was because he was so tiny. The thought that the man responsible for torching her home and killing her innocent little cat was walking free made her so sick that she could hardly eat or sleep.
One morning in late July, Dolores dragged herself downstairs to make breakfast. Opening the fridge listlessly, she reached for the milk. But she misjudged the distance and it slithered out of her hands. As it hit the floor, the plastic cracked, splattering milk all over the floor. She gasped. And then she sat down hard on the floor – and she remembered. She’d been so sick. More sick than she’d ever been in her entire life before. In the bathroom. Olsen holding her hair back and rubbing her back. Her clothes were soaking wet? Did I shower in them? Everything came in flashes. Tripping over something in the street. Going down hard, but being caught by huge hands at the last moment. Then being clean, in a crisp, white shirt, hair wet and being combed out tenderly. Wait? My hair was being combed out? That means? “Oh, god!” she said aloud. He did everything for me. Turned up like my knight in shining armor in the bar, scraped me off the ground, cleaned up my vomit, then washed and dressed me. And all he got for his troubles was me accusing him of taking advantage of me. She gave a dry laugh. He must’ve laughed his ass off when I freaked out the next morning. What a moron I am.
She threw a towel down on the spilled milk, and took off up the stairs.
Twenty minutes later, she was in her car, on the way to Olsen’s place. Waves of embarrassment rolled through her, but she pushed them aside.
She parked the car outside his cabin, ran up his porch steps and tapped on the door a little shyly. In a few seconds, there were heavy steps, and the door swung open.
“Dolores?” His sparkling blue eyes were narrow with uncertainty. He was wearing a navy, V-neck T-shirt and faded gray jeans. He looked great, as raw and rugged and damn sexy as ever.
“C-can we talk?” she stuttered. He threw a look over his shoulder, shrugged.
“Sure. It’s kind of untidy in there, but come in.”
There’s something different about him, she thought, as she followed his large frame through a not-at-all-messy house, to a basic kitchen. He seemed more relaxed, somehow, those broad shoulders not as tense.
“Hope I’m not disturbing you?” she said. In the car, she’d rehearsed exactly what she needed to say to him, but now she was tongue-tied.
“Nope. I was just reading.”
“Reading?”
He gestured for her to sit down at the table and picked up a newspaper. He cleared his throat, and began to read slowly, one word at a time.
Mr Dwayne Carter, of Deep Cut Park, has been charged with producing and supplying crystal meths in one of the largest drugs busts ever seen in the county. Police confirm that he was caught following an anonymous tip off. Following a spell in the hospital while he recovers from a number of wounds sustained from an unspecified incident prior to his arrest, he will be transferred to county jail. Dwayne Carter had only recently been released from jail after serving a sentence for an arson attack on schoolteacher, Dolores Martin. The attack left Ms Martin badly burned and Mr Carter’s own son dead. Early reports indicate that he’s likely to serve a sentence of at least 50 years, without parole.
“Oh my god.” Dolores placed both hands over her face and began to cry. “Olsen, what happened? How did you even know about him? Tell me?”
Olsen sat down beside her.
“That night in the bar. You told me what had happened to you.”
“I did?”
“Yup. You’d just had a big shock when you heard he was already out of jail. You were hurting so much, and I was so mad that I almost shifted right then and there. But instead, the next day, I went to kill him. He deserved to die for what he did – to you, and to his son. But when I got my hands on him, I changed my mind, and I realized he should live with the knowledge of what he’s done, every single day. I’m a man, now, not just a violent bear. You’re the one who’s made me a man, and I wanted to get human justice for you. I saw that he had a meth lab in a trailer out the back of his house, so I just called it in and walked away. After I’d made sure that he wasn’t going anywhere fast.”
Dolores’ eyes got very wide. “Olsen, I remember now. I remember how you took care of me, all night long. There’s still a lot of gaps in my memory, but I know now that you’d never hurt me. I was covered in bruises, but I remember falling and you catching me.”
“At least a half-dozen times,” he said with a grin.
“I’m so sorry that I accused you of taking advantage of me.”
“Dolores, it’s okay. I get it. You woke up and you were confused and scared because you didn’t remember anything. Anyone would have felt like that. And actually a few other people reported vomiting and blackouts to Clementine’s the next day, and it turned out that, unknowingly, they’d been serving fake tequila. They’d recently gotten a whole batch from a new supplier and all of it seems to be who-knows-what, produced in someone’s back yard.”
She allowed herself a quick smile. “Gosh, this is awful! But it explains things. And thank you. Thank you for accepting my apology and for protecting me.”
His irises turned to pure cobalt fire. “I’ll always protect you, Dolores. If anyone hurts you, let me know and I’ll be there.”
A small sound escaped her lips. She wanted him there all the tim
e, not just when things went wrong. “You’re reading so well,” she said, to distract herself.
“I’ve been practicing a lot. All those evenings when I wasn’t seeing you any more, I sat here and worked. I’m still slow, but I did a test on the Internet and it said I have the reading age of a 12 year-old, which means I can read most things.”
“That’s fantastic, Olsen. You learned so fast. You should be so proud of yourself!”
“I had a big incentive,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Which was?’
“To be a man. A real man.”
“Oh, Olsen. You’ve always been a man. The best man I ever met.” As if it was moving independently of her thoughts, her hand shot out and stroked his thick, muscular thigh. He jumped and she pulled it back again.
“The truth is, I haven’t. Most of my life, I’ve been a bear.”
“Like all of you shifters?”
He shook his head. “No. Until I was 18, I never even knew I was a shifter. I just thought I was a bear. Just a regular bear, living in the forest, communicating in grunts and rumbles and roars, and sleeping with my family in a big den. Then one day all of my family got killed, in a forest fire. Except me. And I shifted for the first time. I don’t even know why I’m a shifter, where that part of my genes come from. But there I was, stuck in my human form.”
“Oh my God! You poor thing. That must’ve been so traumatic. I’m so sorry to hear you lost your family.” Her heart ached for him.
He made a rumbling noise through his nostrils. “It was rough, very confusing. But Connor found me, and taught me to speak. That’s why I talk slow sometimes. I’ve only been speaking for 12 years or so.”
“And that’s why you never learned to read.”
“Yup. Learning the human tongue was hard enough. I never saw reading as that important. Until –”
“Until a schoolteacher stuck her nose in your life?” she said with a laugh.
“Until I wanted to make myself good enough for her.”
His face was inches from hers, and impulsively, she reached up and took it between her hands. Then she pressed her lips to his. He didn’t pull away, his mouth soft, yet so hungry. She gave a ragged moan. So much need and confusion and rejection had mingled in her mind over the past few weeks. Every part of her ached for him, her nipples pushing at the fabric of her bra, that spot between her thighs beginning to tingle. His breath was heavy and rough as he lifted her up and put her on the edge of the table, pushing himself between her thighs, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth. It felt so good, good enough to make her lose control. But she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “I can’t take you rejecting me again. I’m not strong enough for this, Olsen.”
His broad, smooth forehead crinkled. “Why would I reject you?”
“Because you rejected me before. You kissed me like you wanted me, then you said you didn’t mean it.”
Recognition passed across his eyes. “I wasn’t good enough for you then. You deserved more than a dumb bear who couldn’t read.”
She blinked fast. “You’re telling me you almost broke my heart for my own good.”
“Yup.”
“Well that’s dumb. But it’s the only dumb thing about you.”
“I hurt you?” he said quietly, his thumb chafing her lip.
“Of course. I liked you. A lot.”
“And now?”
“I guess I still like you.”
He gave another rumble. “Well you better start liking me a whole lot more.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re my mate.”
As she watched, the bones in his face widened and his eyes assumed that animal look she’d seen before. But now she was fascinated, not afraid. “I am?’
“Yup. You’re mine. All mine.” His hands wrapped around her waist, holding her close. “And I’m going to claim you.”
A shudder ran through her at his words. “Now?”
“Now,” he growled, and he lifted her up, off the table, and in the direction of the stairs.
20
She knew this bedroom. The wooden walls, the plain white comforter. It felt friendly. Protective, somehow. And it smelled of Olsen’s rich, wild, masculine scent. Olsen deposited her on the bed, and she fell back, propped up on her elbows. Then he arched over her, eyes hungry, but full of questions. His fingers went to the top button of her shirt. She took a deep breath and held it. She wanted him so bad. So bad that she was about ready to rip his clothes off and hers. But she was scared. No man had even seen her naked before. Unless…
“Have you – have you –?” she couldn’t get the words out.
“Are you asking if I’ve already seen you naked?”
She nodded, biting down on her bottom lip.
He broke into a grin. “I admit I had a helluva hard time controlling myself. But no, of course not. I put you in the shower fully dressed, and you handed me your wet clothes through the curtain. And then I left a t-shirt out for you and closed the door.”
“Oh, okay.” Her voice was small.
His hand gently cupped her right breast, his thumb stroking her aching nipple.
She gasped. “I – I feel ridiculous saying this, but I’ve never done this before.”
He smiled at her, half-tender, half-ravenous. “I know.”
“How –?”
“Your smell. I know you’re untouched.” He moved an inch closer. “I’ve never mated a human before. But I’ll be careful with you. I don’t want to hurt you, Dolores.”
“Okay,” she whispered. Then with a deep breath, she lay back and unfastened her shirt all the way, while he watched, his eyes dragging over every inch of her.
His hands moved fast on her bra, her pants, and then her panties, his fingers seeming to crackle with energy as she sensed him holding back his desire. In seconds, she was bare to his gaze, every curvy inch of her, and he gave a deep rumble of approval. He laid on top of her, pushing himself between her thighs, and began to explore her body with his hands and mouth. She would’ve sworn he’d had a hundred lovers; his touch was so careful and instinctive, as he caressed her breasts, her hard nipples, the pillowy flesh of her inner thighs. He didn’t ignore her scars; he touched them gently, making soft sounds, as if he wanted to acknowledge them as part of her. It made her relax. She understood that he desired her as she was, curves and scars and all.
At first she lay still, shy and nervous, but the more he touched her, the more she needed to touch him too. She reached for his shirt, and he helped her tug it over his head. His torso was thick and stacked with muscle, and his chest had a manly scattering of hair. He looked down at her, a sexy smile playing on his lips. The front of his pants was tented by his erection, his need for her. She was a little scared of it, scared how it would feel to be entered for the first time, but her body ached to have him inside her. With a trembling hand, she unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down. In another second he was naked, her thighs were spread wide, and he arched over her, his cock thick and pulsing. As he slid a finger inside her, and then two, she moaned. It felt so good, it almost hurt. She was so wet and ready for him, and his fingers slipped in and out easily, caressing her insides as skillfully as a musician strumming a guitar. He kept his eyes on hers, the expression caught between loving and wild.
Impulsively, she hooked her ankles around his hips and tugged at his shoulders, dragging him closer. “I want you inside me. I’m scared, but I want you, right now!” she exclaimed with a laugh. In response, he let off a long growl. And he brought his cock to her aching entrance and started to enter her.
It burned a little at first, but soon it started to feel really good. He went slow, filling her up an inch at a time. When he pushed himself all the way in, she gasped. Finally, she was a virgin no more. This man… this man she loved… wanted like she’d never wanted anyone before, was inside her, on top of her, filling her with his big cock.
“Dolores?”
&nbs
p; “Mmm?”
His breath was hot in her ear. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m better than okay, Olsen.” She pulled him down and kissed him hard. “You feel so good inside me.”
“You’re driving me crazy. I can’t hold back,” he said, his voice thick and rough.
“Then don’t.”
With a groan of release, he began to move, and she clung onto his big, broad back as he moved in and out of her. Each thrust made her insides tingle and drew a sigh from her lips. He moved faster and faster and she began to pant, her pussy hotting up, all those little muscles she didn’t know she had tensing and clenching around him.
“Something’s happening. I think I’m going to come,” she gasped. And as, he held her close, looking into her eyes, an eruption welled up inside her, before peaking in blissful, shuddering waves. She saw colors behind her closed eyelids, and nothing in the world mattered except for the closeness between the two of them. Olsen kept fucking her as she climaxed, his cock seeming to draw her orgasm longer and longer. And she laughed in pure joy as the final tremors died away. When she opened her eyes again, she found Olsen still looking at her.
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