by Zoe Chant
More than one person in the pride had a good laugh at how smitten he was, but his mood was too good to be ruined. He could be thankful for Mason, at least, who was eager to be left in charge again while Cole prepared and left.
Fortunately, she loved the wildflower bouquet he brought with him – picked from the grounds around Mirabelle, a riot of color. Her face lit up when she saw it, and the image burned itself onto Cole’s mind – along with some thoughts about her dress, which he was sure was beautiful and expensive, but which his lion wanted to tear off her body into pieces immediately.
“I’m not much of a cook,” she confessed after letting him in and putting the flowers in some water. She seemed a little on-edge. Was she nervous? About him? “I mean, I cook fine. But I have a limited repertoire.”
She could burn water and he wouldn’t give a damn. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“If it’s not, it’s your own fault,” she replied with a mysterious smile. “I’ve got a make-your-own pizza bar set up.”
In the kitchen she had just about every pizza topping he could imagine: there were the usual suspects, like pepperoni and sausage and cheese and olives and onions, but also roasted red peppers, marinated artichokes, pineapple, bacon, every herb he could put a name to and some he couldn’t, and at least three different kinds of sauce.
“I didn’t know what you’d like,” she explained with a tinge of embarrassment. "So I got pretty much everything I could think of.”
He gave her a mock-puzzled look. “You didn’t get mussels, asparagus, or seaweed?”
Kira stared at him a moment until he was afraid he’d actually offended her, before she exploded in laughter, almost bowing at the waist with the force of it. Her laugh was robust and a little raucous, deep and full; it made him want to laugh, too.
“You are a rascal,” she pronounced in between giggles. “Unbelievable.”
“That’s my favorite pizza,” he said, still pretending to be serious. But he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from twitching up.
“Next time I make pizza, I really will make that for you. And you’ll have to eat it,” she promised.
“Next time?” he teased; he couldn’t help himself. With a shyer smile, Kira poured them some wine and didn’t respond.
They put together their pizzas, though Cole kept trying to turn the toppings on her pizza into the shape of a face, which she did not appreciate and which prompted a debate over appropriate pizza topping distribution. She kept smacking his hand away whenever it drew near, and he started doing it on purpose just to feel her hand against his. When he snuck a sidelong glance at her, she looked like she was enjoying their game too.
Cole couldn’t help but remember their amazing interlude together, how easily she’d moved with him, the incredible sounds that had come out of her mouth. He imagined pulling her dress up – or pushing it down – anything to see those miles of beautiful skin underneath, just waiting for his touch. She’s your mate, his lion pointed out, like he was a moron. You should take her again . . . and again . . . and again, until you’re both satisfied. Thinking about it and knowing he couldn’t yet, not unless she wanted him, was torture, and he tried to turn his mind away to other things.
While the pizzas were in the oven, their talk turned to his family and his job.
“I liked meeting everyone,” she said, and he detected a little wistfulness in her tone. She liked his family, he was sure of it, and the realization warmed him more than the wine ever could.
“They liked you.” At her skeptical look, he added, “Really, I mean it. You fit right in.”
Kira took a sip of her wine. “Well, I’m sure they liked the cheesecakes, anyway.”
“I won’t argue with that. For someone who says she’s not much of a cook, you make some pretty tasty food.”
“It’s the job. Hospitals are really stressful places to work,” she explained. “People are there for double and triple shifts, snacking on candy bars and taking naps in between bites. Even though we're supposed to know a lot more about health than patients. I tried to bring in something a little better for everyone. I ended up learning how to throw together a lot of food for a lot of people without a lot of effort. Hence the pizza bars and tiny cheesecake cups.”
During their conversation, they’d moved closer to one another until there was almost no space between them. It was wholly unconscious, like they were drawn together by a subtle magnetic force, until he was close enough to see the sparkle in her eyes. Her lips were stained a little red from the wine and he wanted suddenly to lean down and kiss her, run his tongue along her lower lip and taste the sharp-sour-sweet flavor of it.
He leaned in slightly, and she tipped her head back. Her eyes were dark; he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. Then her lips brushed his, so soft, and he stopped thinking at all.
BEEP!
The oven timer sounded the alarm, and they jumped apart.
Cole held back a sigh. His heart was racing – and not just from the surprise, either. Having her so close was intoxicating to all his senses. He ached to touch his mate, run his hands all over her beautiful, generous body.
Did she feel the same way? He couldn’t tell, not when she was facing away from him and pulling their food out of the oven.
“The pizzas will have to cool,” her voice broke through his thoughts. Guiltily he raised his eyes to her face.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Her voice lowered till it was almost a whisper. “I think we have some free time.”
She wanted him, too. His lion roaring in his ears, Cole didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He took her face in his hands, running his thumbs over her cheeks, and bent to kiss her passionately.
Her mouth opened under his easily, even eagerly, and she pressed back against him with a desire that left his head spinning and his cock aching for her. He traced her lips with his tongue, like he had wanted to do earlier, and she shivered. She was so responsive to his touch.
He ran his hand over her shoulder, tracing her collarbone with his thumb lightly until he met the strap of her dress. He pulled it over her shoulder, baring her skin. He could just see the tops of her breasts, and the sight aroused him. He wanted more, wanted to see her, wanted to taste her.
Cole bent to kiss her neck, sucking lightly, and heard her gasp. It was easy to slip the other strap down, too, and then run his fingers along the neckline of her dress, teasing. Her sensitive skin sent up a trail of goosebumps wherever he touched. He loved it.
Slipping his fingers under the hem, he pulled gently, exposing more of her beautiful skin to the cool air. Her breasts were large and heavy, the perfect size for cupping and squeezing and playing with – if she was a little bit taller.
Kira pushed herself up onto the counter, clearly thinking along the same lines. His mouth followed the line of her neck down, down, down, until he was kissing the hollow between her collarbones and then down into the valley between her breasts where he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing. She sighed as he kissed her, and squealed as he flicked his tongue against her nipple, so he did it again.
Her nipple grew tight and stiff from his attentions. Soon she was panting and arching against him, wanting more. Her hand tightened almost painfully in his hair, but Cole didn’t mind at all. He was with his mate; they were together like they were supposed to be.
But she wasn’t content to let him do all the work. Even as he was focused on loving her, lavishing her with the attention she deserved, he felt her other hand began undoing the buttons on his shirt very distractingly.
Her fingertips grazed his chest over his undershirt. Could she feel his heart pounding?
Maybe she could, because she kept stroking him – his chest, his shoulders, the back of his neck where he was sensitive and loved to be rubbed. Anywhere he could be reached.
Kira’s knees were already parted for him; he reached down between their bodies and brushed his knuckles over the sensitive skin of her inne
r thigh. She jumped, and her hips rocked against him as she spread her legs wider.
The seat of her panties was already damp, he felt with satisfaction. His fingers rubbed between her legs in a light circle, just enough pressure to tease – she swore, and he smiled against her breast – and he reveled in her. She was beautiful and smart and a firecracker and she was his.
“Cole –" she gasped, her soft body undulating.
Cole’s lion purred at the sound of his name. He traced the seam of her panties, then pushed the crotch aside so he could get to her pussy.
God, she was perfect. So wet and warm and already slick for him. The silk stretched tight around his knuckles as he moved to lip a finger into her tight heat. She bucked against him and moaned.
He had to taste her. He dropped to his knees like there was a prize waiting for him – and there was. He was so close he could almost taste her, his mouth watering at the sight of her on the counter.
Their hands fumbled together as her panties were pulled down over her creamy buttocks and skimmed down her legs to fall to the floor.
Immediately Cole began to kiss his way up her thigh, long, wet, sucking kisses that he learned would get her to say his name in that breathless voice again.
He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and she leaned back, looking down at him with smoldering eyes.
Cole licked a stripe from her tight entrance all the way up to her mound. Kira threw her head back and moaned. She was so wet already he could enter her easily, but he didn’t want to – not yet.
He slipped two fingers into her, giving her something to ride as he explored her with his mouth. He sealed his lips over her clit and sucked – from the sounds she made, she liked that a lot.
Her whole body seemed to quiver in response to his touch. With her skirt bunched up around her waist and the curls of her hair plastered to her face, she was by far the most beautiful and desirable woman he had ever met.
It didn't take long to send her over the edge, to watch her back arch and muscles clench around his fingers so tightly. "Cole!" she cried out in the moment of her orgasm.
His lion roared, and Cole needed her like he'd never needed anyone in his life. Standing, he tried to unzip his pants, but his hands felt clumsy with desire. Still panting, Kira was with him the whole way, popping the button and sliding down the zipper with what felt like maddening slowness. Just the barest brush of her fingers along his still-clothed cock electrified him. Then they pushed down his boxers together and she was stroking him, the heat and friction of her palm wonderful yet not enough at all.
"Kira," he said hoarsely. "I need to be inside you."
She clutched the edge of the counter and canted her hips wider. Then he was between her legs, pressed up against her, pushing into her, feeling her glorious heat and how she stretched around him.
She moaned, and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even closer than he thought possible. He felt her ankles lock behind him as she urged him deeper inside of her.
Every thrust seemed to tear a cry from her lips. He tried to go slower at first, but it was all too much – she was too much. He pounded into her with a desperation he'd never known in his life, his lion urging him on.
"Faster," gasped Kira in his ear. She was clinging to him now, one arm around his shoulders. "Harder, Cole, please."
He realized that despite her earlier orgasm she was nearing the edge again, and the thought of her coming again, coming around his cock, drove him on. Then her head was thrown back, revealing the long line of her throat, and she was coming, clenching around him in a wave of caresses and calling out his name again, and that sent him over the edge.
With a shout emptied himself in her in hot pulses, his vision going white.
They were quiet for a few minutes, holding each other. She stroked his hair and he listened to their harsh breathing return to normal.
"I feel like I need to lie down," she whispered finally. "And maybe have a cigarette."
"I don't know if I could make it to the bedroom," confessed Cole.
She laughed breathlessly and patted his hair absently. "I'll settle for the floor, big guy."
They wound up curled up together , his head on her chest. They didn't need to go to sleep, but he didn't want to move, didn't want to let go of her even for one minute. Kira, his mate. It felt perfect. It felt right.
"So, that pizza," Kira said, and they both laughed until it hurt.
They ate the pizza on the floor, half-dressed, and while it was lukewarm neither of them minded. She fed him little bites of her olive-studded veggie pizza, and in turn he shared some of his meat-lover's.
She wiped away some sauce from his mouth and licked it off her thumb – and looked embarrassed afterward, like she was surprised she could do something like that.
"Is it always like that?" she asked finally.
"Like what?"
She turned, if possible, even shyer. "Intense."
He stroked the curve of her belly aimlessly. "I wouldn't know," he admitted. "I've never been mated before. I guess it's different." Was it really like this all the time? He'd never asked, having never felt the need, but he had never been with someone like Kira. It went beyond just technically good sex – although it was that, too – and into something deeper, a connection that he had never felt before. The pair bond.
"That was a hell of a date," she murmured. Her fingers traced patterns on his back. "I can't see what you've got in store for the next one."
"Go big or go home, I always say," he said cheekily and felt the answering laugh thrum through her body.
"Nice to get some relief from stress," she added.
"Stress? What stress?" Not him, he hoped. He wasn't foolish enough to believe she was ready to marry him, but said she wanted to date more and they seemed like they were on a good path. Please not it not be him, he hoped silently.
She was silent and still for a second like she knew she'd been caught out. "It's nothing, you don't have to worry about it."
Sharing a life was something mates did. It wasn't all incredible, mind-blowing sex – it was a partnership. That meant you listened to each other's problems.
So he said, "You can tell me. Maybe I can't fix it, but if it would be nice to get off your chest . . ."
"I've been having this problem lately," she began, then paused. "This guy has been following me around a little, pressuring me to go out with him, but he won't get the message and stay away."
For a long minute Cole felt sick to his stomach. She was talking about him. But then he realized she had said he wouldn't stay away – and he remembered he had been invited. He let out a deep sigh. "You're not talking about me, I take it?"
"What?" She sounded shocked. "Oh! Oh, no! I'm so sorry, that's not at all what I meant."
A wave of relief broke over Cole, but then the implications of what she was saying began to sink in. "You have a stalker?"
Her mouth twisted with worry. "I guess you'd call it that. He came by my workplace the other week, and he wrote me this really awful letter – oh, I should have shown it to you earlier, it has to do with you too."
She rose to retrieve it, and he missed the loss of her warmth already. She was back quickly, though – but with an anxious expression and biting her lip.
The letter disturbed him, but not as much as the signature that was attached to it.
"Gunnar Atherton," he repeated. That couldn't be a coincidence. How many people could have that name?
Kira looked confused. "Cole? Do you know that name?"
"Yeah," he said grimly, and glanced over the letter again in disbelief. "Yeah, I do."
He would have liked to spend his first evening with his mate doing just about anything else, but instead he told her about Gunnar and his connection to their pride. Gunnar was a panther shifter, he explained, an alpha like him but one who drove his pride into the ground instead of nurturing them to grow to their full potential like an alpha was supposed to do. They'd become a gang of sorts furth
er north, closer to the big city, and rumors spread in shifter circles about their many criminal activities.
In fact, enough rumors flew that the local crime family got wind of their turf being encroached upon. Cole wasn't there, so he didn't have all the details, but he knew there had been a showdown in a warehouse and a fire. Arson, probably, or some kind of deliberate explosion. Gunnar's whole pride had died that night, except for him.
"I don't think he's responsible for their deaths – not directly, anyway," Cole concluded. "But losing his whole pride like that drove him insane, I think."
Gunnar was a criminal and deserved to be held responsible for his crimes, but losing your entire pride like that – the idea of it made Cole shudder with a twinge of sympathy. Prides had a bond, too. Not as strong as a mating bond, obviously, and more fluid because people moved around all the time, but a real bond all the same. He wouldn't wish what happened to Gunnar on his worst enemy. He was alone now – not just mateless, but really alone.
As he told her all this, Kira was biting her lip. "What does this have to do with me?"
Cole grimaced. "He latches onto female shifters. I'm not exactly sure, but I think he thinks he can rebuild his pride if he has a mate. Start new." He told her about Andrea. The exact same pattern of escalating stalking emerged.
"What stopped him?"
"Andrea's real mate."
Kira frowned. "I want to see where this goes, Cole, but I don't want you to step in and solve all my problems. Or even try. I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself." More quietly, she added, "I feel helpless enough already."
"I know," he was hasty to reassure her. "I don't think you're weak – your strength amazes me, after what happened to your family. What you've been through. I'm saying that he has a pattern of behavior. And this is a problem for the whole pride, not just you. We know Gunnar, we've dealt with him before. We can help."
She was nodding, frustration melting into thoughtfulness. "What do you think we should do?"
He held her hand as, together, they worked out a plan.