by Zoe Chant
“Having a mate is hard work,” Vanessa said after a moment. “It can be intense. It’s emotional, it’s love, and there’s also a physiological component for shifters. In healthy partnerships, it compels you to treat your mate well— to think of their needs and desires, to take care of them. In that sense, mate relationships are some of the strongest and most egalitarian you could hope to find.”
Alison nodded slowly, clearly thinking Vanessa’s words through. “And in unhealthy partnerships?” Her wide gray eyes clouded.
Gage wanted fiercely to wrap her up in his arms. He wanted to tell her he’d never treat her badly, never hold her back or demand anything from her.
“Unhealthy is unhealthy,” Rob said matter-of-factly, looking up from his plate.
Everyone’s eyes gathered on him, and he hunched back down. Gage pitied him for a moment. Rob had ghosts he didn’t like to talk about.
“It’s no different for shifters than anyone else,” he muttered, clearly regretting speaking up.
Sammy shrugged and nodded in agreement. “Mate relationships are similar to family or clan relationships in some ways. If there are unhealthy dynamics going on, they can be destructive. But if you know what you want and you choose well—”
“Then you get a clan like ours,” Vanessa finished. “Everyone pitches in, everyone gets a say. Even though Gage is our alpha, he owes respect to us. It’s like a chosen family.”
Gage’s heart warmed at the description. He worked hard to create a place for each of his clan mates, to give them what he thought they needed and deserved. And God, he hoped Alison would let him make a place for her, eventually. His mate seemed so near, so close to understanding what he could offer. It almost seemed possible right now, sitting around the kitchen table with everyone he cared for in the world. He had to keep trying.
After breakfast, Gage gave Alison a tour of the clan’s office. The main entry was around the back of the house. Usually Gage went through a hidden door that led directly from the living area, but today he walked Alison outside to get the full effect. He wanted to impress her, show her that he was a successful business owner who could provide for her.
Looking around the wide entryway of the office suite, Alison laughed. “I love this!” She scanned the suite eagerly. Above, a classic etched logo bearing the name Alpha Investigations arched across the transom window over the door.
Gage smiled at Alison’s enthusiasm. He’d thought long and hard as he designed the office, and her appreciation meant he’d achieved the feeling he wanted.
The suite was a fusion of styles, both classic noir P.I. and high-tech sophistication. The tall ceilings and white walls felt airy and clean, while the frosted glass and dark wood accents added a smoky vibe. The office was all black and white with upholstered chairs as marks of red against the salvaged wood floors. On the desks, modern white computers with large screens mixed with reproduction black rotary-style phones.
“I feel like I should be wearing thigh-high stockings and smoking on a desk,” Alison commented. “This is fantastic!”
Gage’s mind reeled at the image and he turned away to unlock his personal office, trying to hide his reaction. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmured, pushing down the intense surge of desire that shot through his gut.
The frosted glass of his door bore the same black lettering as the front door and Alison read out admiringly, “Gage Thorson, P.I.” She followed him inside and perched her hip against his desk. “I need your help, Mr. Thorson,” she said throatily, mimicking a noir femme fatale. “I need it desperately.”
Gage grinned and dropped into his chair before she could notice how her voice affected him. “What can I do for you, Miss Lawrence?” he played along. “I’m a very busy man.” As if there was anything he wouldn’t do for this woman.
Alison’s cheeks dimpled and she leaned closer across the desk, letting her oversized shirt slip temptingly low. “I can make it worth your while,” she breathed.
Gage’s eyes slid over her full lips, down the slope of her silky neck, and into the dark softness of her cleavage. Her breasts pushed unrestrained against his old cotton shirt, and the scent of her skin against his clothing was intoxicating. As he watched, her nipples pebbled and stood out through the fabric.
A low groan escaped him. “I’m sure you can,” he managed to say. He’d never thought of role play as anything but silly until this moment. But suddenly he ached to see her curves molded by a garter belt and one of those tight skirts. He’d turn her over the desk, spank her round ass, and fuck her until she begged for mercy. Then he’d lick her out, hold her hips tight and feel her wriggling and squirming from overstimulation, high heels kicking helplessly in the air. God, he’d never had such filthy thoughts. Would Alison even want that?
“Name your price, Mr. Thorson.” Alison’s voice was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard, thick and velvety, stroking against his arousal like the touch of soft fingers. Gage couldn’t remember ever being this hard this fast. His mouth was dry.
She leaned closer. “You know what I think?” Her words brushed over him, a hot whisper, growing in confidence. “I think a man like you works too hard.” Her mouth shaped the last word so deliberately that Gage could almost feel that intense heat closing around his cock. He tried to speak but nothing coherent came out. How had blushing Alison turned into this stunning, self-confident bombshell?
Her eyes teased him, pleasure alive and glinting.
“Your voice,” he managed to say.
“It makes you hard, doesn’t it?” She smiled teasingly, then shrugged and dropped her femme fatale tone. “I know we said we’d keep it professional but look,” she gestured between them. “This is who I am, professionally. I flirt with my voice. I pretend to be sexy. I’m good at it and I like doing it. It’s fun.”
“You don’t need to pretend,” Gage growled. “You are sexy.” Ah, there was that blush. His bear reared in pride.
Alison’s head ducked and she bit her lip, wide eyes gazing down at the thick, hard erection straining the seam of his pants. “And you,” she continued quietly, “are a professional P.I. So really, we’re being very professional right now.” There was a vein of hope in her voice, like she was begging Gage to accept her argument. Like she needed him.
Gage latched onto it instinctively. He lifted her down into his lap, her hot core nestling firmly against his hardness. Her hips rolled and she sighed in satisfaction. He closed his eyes and bit down a moan.
“Now then,” Alison directed huskily, recovering her flirtatious tone, “as I said, Mr. Thorson, I’m in desperate need of your services.”
Gage swallowed and grated out, “And what services would those be?”
Alison murmured into his ear, “I’m looking for a man who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. A man who know how to play rough, if the need arises.” Her fingers trailed down the front of his shirt, catching on the button of his fly.
Gage couldn’t help it; he bucked up against her, and her fingers tightened, gripping his length greedily.
Her voice was low but erotically distinct. “What do you think, handsome? Will you be my private dick?”
He nearly growled his desire but he held himself back. Instead, he squeezed the curve of her neck, slid his fingers tight into the base of her thick hair, and pulled. She arched back, gasping, her body a bow— pressed tight to his erection and stretched over his muscled, flexing arm. He cradled her head, making sure she wouldn’t hit it against the desktop. As Gage devoured the sight of her, his bear roared, ready to prove his wildness. Still, Gage reined in the urge. He’d have to experiment and be vigilant with Alison to discover just what kind of rough play she wanted. Above all, a bear protected its mate.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His voice came out like tar over gravel. “You sure a nice girl like you can handle a man like me?”
Alison’s body swelled under his appreciative gaze. Her hands traced teasingly up her stomach, slowly dragging her borrowed
shirt with them. Her eyes seduced him, dark with excitement. She delicately lifted the shirt over her breasts— and left it there, just exposing the tender pink peaks of her arousal and the creamy swells beneath.
Gage’s mouth watered to taste that warm skin. She smelled intoxicating, a scent that filled him with a comforting sense of rightness and a strong shot of possessiveness. His heart and his cock ached to spill themselves for her. He knew then what he wanted. He bent forward and took her breast, cradling it in his palm and sucking firm and tight. Alison keened, arching her back, curving upward over the arm that held her fast. Gage kept her steady as she pulled against his grip, and she moaned as his fingers tugged hard in her hair. He kept at it, letting her body roll between the sharp tug of his fingers and the slow grind of his cock, pulling at her with his mouth in tight sucks. After long, luxurious minutes, he drew off her breast and licked harshly at her nipple, stiff in the cool air.
Alison cried out, hands clutching at the arms of his chair. Her face was flushed and her eyes wild, almost wet. “Please,” she begged, voice shaking, “touch me.”
Gage shook with her, desperate to tear off her clothes and thrust himself into her. He couldn’t take much more of this teasing, but he would try for his mate. “You sure that’s what you want?” he growled. “Nice girls don’t let strange men touch them like that.”
Alison’s eyes glowed and a slow smile curled up at him. “You’re not a strange man,” she whispered.
Gage nearly came, bucking into the warmth of her words. She was so gorgeous, so sweet and strong all at once, so perfect. Mine, his hindbrain insisted. His fingers brushed down her body, taking in the soft warm skin, the small shivers that shook her, and pulled at the loose band of her borrowed sweats. “Here?” he asked, voice harsh with desire.
Alison nodded slightly, eyes riveted on his fingers, mouth wet and open in anticipation. He tugged the band down across her upper thighs and took in the sight of her. Her pussy was flushed like the rest of her, pink and wet with need, her clit swollen like a delicious mouthful. Gage breathed in. Her feminine musk filled his bear with the urge to rut and take and taste.
“Like this,” Alison whispered, and reached for his fly. Gage caught his breath and swore silently as her gentle fingers sought out his cock. She pulled on him slowly, once, twice— then pressed him lengthwise between her slick folds, so that his drooling head rubbed up against her clit. “Oh,” she sighed, a barely audible puff of breath. Her fingers retreated, hands twining behind her back, gripping his flexed arm. Her body looked caught, trapped under his control— but she had put it there.
Gage clenched his teeth and wrestled with his inner nature. He couldn’t claim her yet; she didn’t belong to him. And she deserved to get exactly what she wanted. But God, he wanted to plunge into her, mate her, plant his seed deep inside her. He shuddered.
Finally, carefully, he began to move, letting his cock ride across the slick channel, pushing against the place that made her moan. Speeding his thrusts, he watched like a man possessed, unable to look away from the intensity of the sight— his mate allowing him such intimate control over her. Each time he pushed against her, she twitched and cried out throatily.
When he looked up, she was watching him, eyes slit and all pupil. She stretched and smiled languidly, pleased. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on her hair. Her eyes fell shut and her body shook in silent shudders. Gage’s desire boiled over. Unable to stop himself, he took hold of the base of his cock and smacked her clit with it, hard.
Her body bowed, mouth open, breath shallow and fast. “Yes,” she hissed.
“Fuck,” he growled and smacked her fast and steady. His cock drooled precome over her folds, and the wet, filthy sound hardened him beyond what he could bear. Desperate for her to come, he pulled her skin taut, exposing her sensitized clit, and smacked harder.
A deep, nearly pained moan broke from Alison’s throat, and her body shook and shook. Against his cock, her pussy convulsed in tight little motions, as if trying to milk him. His hindbrain reeled. Mine, his mind roared, and he came in long pulses over her skin. The world seemed to go dim and silent as he watched, gasping. His seed slicked her clit, slipping and sliding down her pink lips.
“Mate,” he growled from his gut, “my mate!”
Alison gasped and her eyes shot open.
For a split second, Gage couldn’t process what he’d said, overwhelmed by his animal need. Then his high came crashing down, all that pleasure plummeting into a hard cold fear in his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, horrified at himself. “I’m so sorry, Alison. I didn’t mean to—”
Her beautiful face had gone stiff and her eyes betrayed. “What? What are you saying?”
He closed his eyes, ashamed of his weakness. He had let his desires overwhelm Alison’s needs. What kind of mate behaved that way? An unworthy one.
Alison pulled herself from his lap, her warmth gone.
“I should have been honest from the start,” Gage admitted, shaking his head. He saw now how deeply he had betrayed her trust, even though he’d thought he was protecting her. “I should have told you about how shifters sense our mates. I sensed it as soon as I met you.”
And he should have sensed she deserved better than him.
Chapter Nine
Alison woke up to a rolling, drizzling fog. She fumbled over the covers and checked her phone: six o’clock in the morning. Saturday, she reminded herself, and pulled the comforter over her head. She curled up and pressed her face into the soft, worn fabric of her pillow, trying to breathe in and out slowly. She tried to reach back into her safe, sleepy dreams. Why couldn’t she stay there forever? She didn’t want face reality yet. But Gage’s gorgeous face and heated voice came into her head anyway.
Mate, my mate.
It had taken a long moment for her to understand his words, as hard as he’d just made her come. And then she’d freaked out.
She groaned into her pillow and doubled it up over her head, as if to drown out the unwanted thoughts. It was so embarrassing, all of it, and she barely even understood why. She should be furious at him, like she’d been yesterday, but instead her entire body ached with a horrible combination of arousal and humiliation. She’d loved it, every second of it, up to and maybe even including what he’d said. But she still didn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand. Why did he have to say that?
Afterward, he’d been all apologies, shamefaced, and she didn’t like seeing him that way, either. Something in her rebelled at the idea of Gage ashamed— this strong and capable shifter apologizing for his desire, his need. She wanted him to desire and need her. She knew that.
He’d said... What did he say? “It’s not what you’re thinking. I’d never force you. I’d never follow you. That’s not what a real mate does. A real mate protects. I was trying to protect you, but—”
“But you weren’t going to tell me?” she’d interrupted, pulling her borrowed clothes back on, feeling vulnerable and wrong-footed and angry. “You thought that was what a real partner does? Lies to his—?”
“No! I was going to— I thought over time, you might— my clan might be able to show you that having a mate can be a good thing.” His eyes were dark with pain, his voice quiet and low.
She’d felt shaky still, aroused and betrayed, and the combination infuriated her. “I don’t want a mate,” she’d said. “That’s fine for shifters, but I don’t believe in that kind of thing. I don’t want it.”
His eyes had lowered then, his shoulders bowed. He’d nodded shortly. “All right,” he murmured. “I understand. I made a mistake. I’ll finish this case for you and then I’ll leave you alone.”
Don’t leave me alone, something inside her chest begged, but she shut it down firmly. “Okay,” she’d agreed, subdued.
Now what? Alison wondered, curled under her comforter, rubbing her eyes roughly. How can I ever look at him again? Who is he, really?
Was Gage the calm, kind protector who made her panc
akes from scratch? Was he the strong, stunning lover whose growls gave her the most intense orgasms of her life? Or was he a stranger after all, with his secrets and powers and desire for a commitment she could never fulfill? She really didn’t know what to think.
By the time Alison pulled up in front of Jess’s house, the sun had crept out from the clouds and the drizzle had resolved into a warm, bright afternoon. The air felt fresh against Alison’s face, crisp with the smell of spring grasses and bursting wildflowers. As she mounted the front steps, she tried to put all the thoughts of Gage behind her, at least for the next few hours. At Jess’s house she knew she was safe, and there was no sense in ruining a weekend barbecue with her friends.
“Alison!” Devin hurled himself down the hall stairs before she could even press the doorbell. He unlatched the screen door and pulled her inside excitedly. “I was watching for you. Guess what? I went to the dentist and she said I’m gonna have to get my wisdom teeth taken out, and Mom says I have to, too. I told her that they might just stay in my gums, like how you said that yours never grew in, but she doesn’t believe me. Come tell her!” Devin bounced backward, pulling Alison down the hall toward the kitchen, his round face pleading.
Alison laughed. “Okay, but I don’t think the dentist meant she has to take them out right now. You’ve got a few years before you need to worry about that, I promise.”
Devin frowned dramatically and called out, “Mom, Alison’s here! Come see her teeth!”
“I want to see!” Georgia, Jess’s daughter, poked her head into the hall. She clutched a ratty polar bear in one fist and a piece of pineapple in the other.
“Hey, I want pineapple, too,” Devin cried, abandoning Alison for lure of the barbecue.
Georgia ran after him, yelling, “It’s mine, Daddy said so!”
Alison could smell charcoal burning and the tang of grilled fruit. Her stomach growled as she followed the kids outside.