by T. S. Joyce
She laid a gentle kiss on his chest. “It wasn’t so bad. I went to school, and my dad was protective. I remember some pervert pulled down his pants and started jacking off during one of my shows, and my dad shut the entire thing down for a week, made new rules, beefed up security.”
“He shouldn’t have made you do that in the first place.”
“Yeah well, it was his choice. And when I got older, it was mine, too. It was a steady income. It kept me in school and off the streets. The hard part was the way people looked at me though—like I really was a freak. It was hard to love myself during those years. Hard to accept the animal.”
“So you spiraled?”
“No. That felt like nothing compared to the day my dad told me he was sick. He’d put off going to the doctor, I don’t know why. I was mad at him, but we didn’t have health insurance, and he just coughed more and more until I made him go. I guilted him into making the appointment because somewhere along the way, I think he forgot he was all I had. It was me and him against the world, you know? His lungs were sick, and it was bad. It was incurable.”
“He died?”
Winter swallowed hard and shook her head against his shoulder. “I killed him. I read all the rules, and legally I could Turn one person. I picked my dad, but I didn’t grow up with shifters. I didn’t know how it worked. I just thought if I bit him, he would get better and be a panther shifter, like me. I thought I could save him.” Winter’s face crumpled, and she buried herself against Logan’s chest at the memories of that awful day. “I waited until he was asleep one night. He’d had really bad coughing fits, couldn’t breathe, was on an oxygen tank, and I thought if I bit him when he was on his pain killers, he wouldn’t even feel my fangs. But apparently, you can’t Change a sick person. You can Change an injured person, but they have to be healthy for shifter healing to work. You can’t put an animal in a weakened host. And so he passed on his bed, and it was really bad.” A sob wrenched up her throat. “It was an awful way to go. He loved me the best way he knew how, and I killed him.”
“Shhhh.” Logan rubbed her back in gentle circles.
Sobs wracked her body, and tears made damp spots on the pillow under her cheek. And when she could speak again, she whispered, “At least when you killed, it was people who deserved it. I killed the person I loved the most.”
Logan hugged her tighter—so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. It felt nice to be swaddled in his strength right now.
“I got to drinking, taking drugs, anything I could do to forget that night. I lost our apartment, started living on the street, begging for change so I could get the next fix of something just to go numb, you know?”
“What made you go find Red Havoc.”
She laughed thickly. “Fate, I guess. My mom showed up at the subway where I was begging for money, and she was all strung out, mascara smeared all over her face, looking a hundred years older than she really was. My eyes are the same color, and I could see my future so clearly. I was going to end up just like her. She didn’t say much. Just that she was sorry I lost my dad, and then she gave me this old, folded-up piece of paper. It was the location of a panther crew. She said she’d known about it for a while and was trying to get clean enough to join. She just…” Winter shook her head. “She just couldn’t get her life together for long enough. She gave me fifty bucks and begged me to go see a man named Benson Saber. I had this moment when she was walking away. She’d never done anything for me in her entire life, but she’d just given me a second chance if I was willing to go after it. So I did. I hitchhiked out to Ben’s crew three years ago and met Brody right away, detoxed, and went to work. I became a professional at pretending I was normal so I could fit in and be a good mate to Brody.”
“And then he chose another.”
Winter dipped her chin once. “Everyone leaves.”
“If you truly believe that, then why are you here, trying for a spot in a crew?” he whispered.
“Because I guess I like the idea that maybe someday I can find my place, you know? My niche. Somewhere people will keep me. I didn’t grow up in a crew, but I used to fantasize about the idea of one. I used to imagine I grew up with other kids like me, especially nights after a show when I felt so infinitely different than everyone around me. When I could hear the echoes of laughter and the sounds of disgust from the people who had watched my shift. I had this cork board in my closet with newspaper clippings from shifter articles. Pictures of the Ashe Crew, the Gray Backs, the Boarlanders, the Breck Crew. I liked the paparazzi pictures of the kids best, and I know it sounds so stupid, but I would pretend they were my friends, and I wasn’t a freak, and I wasn’t alone. I guess a part of me still wants that feeling of acceptance. I thought I found it with Red Havoc, but I didn’t get the urge to register with Ben. I don’t know why. My panther felt fine waiting. Maybe she saw Brody for what he was. Maybe she was just waiting for him to screw up. He was too perfect. Too clean. Perfect smile, perfect answer for everything, perfect hair, perfect place in the crew, and I was trailing behind trying to be good enough. I guess I’m trying for this crew because I still want to prove I’m good enough.”
“If Kane doesn’t choose you for the Blackwings, that’s his loss.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“How?”
“Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the most incredible person. You’ve gone through so much, and you cleaned yourself up, picked yourself up, carved out a life.”
“For Brody.”
“Bullshit. You looked up to him as a guideline for normal because you didn’t have that growing up. You’re here now, clean, happy, healthy, a secret strong-as-hell badass because of your own grit. Brody doesn’t get credit for that. You do. You’re enough, Winter.”
She let off a long, shuddering breath at how good that felt to hear. It was a first. “Can you say that again?”
Slowly, Logan lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “You’re enough.”
With a helpless sound, she eased her lips onto his as a thank you because he’d just given her something so important. Something she’d wanted for so long. She’d yearned for one person to feel like that, and it was him.
Logan froze under her lips, but she didn’t care. She laid gentle pecs on him until his mouth softened against hers, and he kissed her back. This wasn’t the match meets gasoline that had happened before. This was gentle sips and soft sucks and shallow nips. It was moving against each other and enjoying each other’s taste, scent, feel.
He cupped her face and wiped her tears away with his thumbs, then slid his tongue past her lips. She loved the scratch of his beard against her soft skin and the way his hand went to her hip and squeezed as though he didn’t want to ever let her go. She loved how he wrapped his strong arm around her head to keep her close. She loved how she couldn’t feel his bear at all and Logan was giving her this beautiful moment without the risk of pain. She wanted it to last forever.
“Stay with me,” she whispered against his lips.
“Winter,” he murmured, easing away as if he would deny her.
She rushed onward. “Stay with me tonight. And tomorrow, stay with me then, too.”
“I can’t give you what you want. I can’t be that for you. I’m not permanent.”
Winter cupped his cheeks and kissed his denial away. “Give me one day at a time. I know you can do it. I was messed up, and I did it one day at a time, held onto the bright sides, clocked my progress, kept track of my little victories until I could get off my knees and stand on my own. And I’ll be here cheering you on, Logan. Please. Just…don’t quit.”
“No more talking,” he said low, and then his lips were on hers, more urgent this time. She could practically taste his desperation to escape her pleading. He slid his hand down her stomach and cupped his hand between her thighs.
Winter gasped and rolled her hips against his touch. She shouldn’t encourage him. Sex with Logan got her
hurt last time, but maybe if they just fooled around a little. The purr in her throat rattled louder, as if her panther had no survival instincts at all, and the human side of her was left all alone to make decisions about when to stop Logan.
When he slid his hand down the front of her panties, Winter gasped at how good his fingers felt sliding through her wetness. He circled her clit. Now her claws were out, digging into the back of his neck, keeping him close as he kissed her lips swollen.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered against her mouth, but she didn’t miss the hint of a false note in his voice. He was trying to convince himself as much as her. “I won’t,” he said firmer, and there it was. He believed that one.
And as stupid as it was, so did she. Winter rested her leg over his hip. He inhaled sharply, dragged her hips toward him, and rocked his erection against her. He was so big, so hard, and his sweatpants so thin, she could feel the perfect outline of his shaft. She wanted that. Now.
She rolled her body gracefully against his, tempting him to touch her deeper, to touch her more, to ask for everything. His bear was here. He was in his mercury-colored eyes. He was in the scent of predator fur and the soft snarl in Logan’s throat. His bear was here making the air feel heavy, but still, she didn’t experience fear.
Her panther clearly had a death wish, and now Winter was at the mercy of her pheromones. Maybe Logan had been right. Maybe she was going into heat. She hadn’t ever wanted anything or anyone more than Logan right now, and it made no damn sense because her arm was still sore.
Logan rocked them up until she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. She was confused for a moment before his hand slid her sweater slowly up her back. His fingers brushed her spine the entire way, and when her covering hit the floor, he didn’t pounce, no. Logan pressed the flat of his palm on her shoulder blade and slowly dragged his hand down, raising gooseflesh where he touched her. He settled onto his knees behind her, easing her between his powerful thighs as he pulled her hair gently. When her head was angled to the side, his lips brushed her neck softly, like the stroke of a paintbrush. Behind her, his stomach and chest were rock-hard against her back, but his lips were pliable and easy on her skin.
A large mirror hung on the wall in front of her. Now that her eyes were adjusted to the dark, she could see him perfectly. He lifted those blazing silver eyes to their reflection and locked gazes with her. He looked wild and sexy, his shoulders flexing as he ran his hands down her arms. He opened his jaw wider, as if he would bite her, but he didn’t. His nip stayed gentle and pleasurable on the side of her neck, right under her ear. Oh, he knew her buttons. It was male panther instinct to bite the back of the neck during sex, and it was just as erotic to the females. He was working her neck until she hadn’t the strength to deny either of them.
Her chest heaved as he dragged his hand up her ribs and cupped her breast. Already, her nipples were drawn up in tight, wanting buds. Winter moved to take off her gray knee-high socks, but he pulled her hand away and shook his head. “Leave them,” he murmured against her skin. He hooked a finger under the elastic of her panties. “These can go.”
She couldn’t help the smile on her face as she slid them down her thighs to her knees, ankles, then floor. Logan liked the socks. Noted.
He pulled her back on the bed and slid his hands between her closed knees, pushed them open slowly. His eyes blazed brighter when her sex was exposed to the mirror. Around her hips, his thighs clenched, and he rolled his erection against her back. Logan moved to kiss the other side of her neck. His hand slid down between her legs again. Without hesitation, he slid his middle finger inside of her. Shocked at how perfect it felt, Winter reached over her shoulders and gripped his neck as she writhed.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he said on a breath as he watched himself finger her.
With a smile, she closed her eyes and rolled her hips against his touch again. He could watch all he wanted, but she just wanted to feel him right now. His lips on her neck, his finger buried inside of her, two now, his hard body against her back, his thighs encasing her… God, she loved this. Loved him. Loved him? Impossible. He was too new to her life, too dangerous.
Perfect.
No. Logan wasn’t perfect, and it was dangerous for her panther to think that. He was flawed and broken just like her.
He matches us.
Desperate to push the panther from her mind, she turned in his arms and straddled his lap.
Logan didn’t flinch or hesitate, but instead pulled her hips hard against him and trailed biting kisses down her arm over the claw marks. They tingled under his lips, under the scratch of his facial scruff. And then he was on her mouth again, kissing, biting, sucking, cupping the back of her head as their bodies moved together.
She couldn’t think. Her body and mind belonged to Logan now, and with trembling fingers, she pushed the waist of his sweats down his hips. He lifted off the bed enough for her to maneuver them down to the middle of his thighs to unsheathe him completely. She rocked against his dick and groaned mindlessly as he reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance.
In a final, barely-there wisp of self-preservation, she pleaded, “Don’t hurt me after.”
“You don’t understand,” he gritted out, pushing deep into her. “I can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”
Safe. What a beautiful lie.
She eased off his cock and lowered herself onto him again until he was buried completely. A snarl rattled his chest, but she gripped the back of his hair and yanked his gaze to hers. The sound died in his throat when he looked at her, pupils blown out as though she’d short-circuited him. Good. At least this part of him wasn’t broken either. Dominant or not, he could still be guided. As she rolled against him again, he leaned forward and kissed her, hand cupped on her cheek, fingers digging into her neck as they moved together.
God, he felt so good inside of her. The perfect fit. Our match.
Winter snarled, and against her lips, Logan smiled. She knew if she reared back and looked at him right now, it would be a wicked grin. He liked her animal. She could tell. He was so damn pleased with himself right now, she could practically feel the satisfaction wafting from his warm skin. So she let the cat have her fun, let her growl like she wanted while Winter kept him buried deep, only allowing him small thrusts.
“Fuck,” he said in a feral voice, and she got it. She was close, too.
Logan buried his face against her neck and crushed her to his body, rolling his hips faster, crashing into her. His teeth grazed her neck over and over, but he never pushed to bite her. Never pushed to claim her. A terrifying part of her wanted him to. She wanted him to sink his teeth into her and anchor his bear to her animal. She wished he would bind them so he would have a harder time leaving this world. A harder time leaving her. But he didn’t. His teeth scraped her skin, but never pierced it.
The pressure in her core was building with every stroke, and she was already toeing the edge of ecstasy. She was standing on the edge of a cliff about to lose herself completely in the free-fall and dive into the cool blue waters below.
She cried out with every stroke. Logan’s fingers dug into her thighs as he rammed her hips with his.
The first pulse of orgasm shattered her body, and Logan yelled out her name and arched his neck back. Her quick pulses were met by the deep jerk of his dick, and then warmth, warmth, warmth each time their bodies met.
His release spurred hers on, encouraging more aftershocks than she thought possible. She and Logan slowed the pace, swayed together as the pleasurable throbbing sensation in her middle became softer. His lips were gentle again, and for some reason it made her want to cry. Logan wasn’t on the attack tonight. He was massaging her thighs, brushing his fingertips up her back, gripping her neck gently, stroking her cheek, kissing her softer and softer, adoring her, all unrushed. Tonight, his monster slumbered and allowed her this breathtaking moment.
This was such a beautiful
gift after yesterday’s pain.
Logan huffed a soft sound, half-growl, half laugh. A smile curved his lips, and he shook his head as he stayed locked in her gaze. “I can’t…I can’t believe…” He eased back against the mattress, dragging her with him, and then curled around her body protectively. “He’s fine.”
As Logan smoothed her hair out of her face, she pecked his hand. “Your bear is okay?”
“Well, not okay, but quiet.”
“Can I tell you something, and you not freak out?”
“You can tell me anything.”
“For a second there, I thought you were going to claim me.”
The smile slipped from his face so fast his ears moved. He pulled the pillow under them better and rested his cheek just inches from hers. As quiet as a breath, he asked, “Would you hate that?”
Winter shook her head slowly, allowed him to see the steadiness in her eyes.
Logan swallowed hard in the quiet darkness and ran his fingertips along the sore claw marks on her arm. He followed his touch with his gaze, then blinked slowly and lifted those blazing silver eyes back to hers.
He didn’t say anything, but that single look in his eyes said so much. She felt struck by lightning. Suddenly, everything made sense. His bear’s attack, him promising he wouldn’t have killed her, his protectiveness, his inability to leave her alone, his need to touch her tonight.
Her throat got so tight she couldn’t speak right away, and her eyes misted with tears. “You didn’t hurt me tonight,” she croaked out emotionally.
“I told you I can’t hurt you anymore.”
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!
“Are these…?” Winter pressed her hand on top of Logan’s, flattening his palm against the new scars on her arm. “Are these claiming marks?”
Logan looked sick and ripped his gaze away. “I’m sorry.”
As he buried his face against her chest, she stared at the headboard above them. Claiming marks, the only way his monster knew how. It hadn’t been sweet or in an intimate moment. It had been violent and forced and animalistic. It had been so…Logan.