Cougar Desires [Cougarlicious 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Cooper McKenzie

  Then she recognized Grant’s face as he pulled on his face mask. He raised a hand in greeting, which she returned before crossing her arms over her chest then pointing at him, the sign language for “I love you.” He nodded but did not return the gesture. Nor did he tap Jax and let him know they had an audience. Gwen watched, feeling helpless as the two most important men in her life picked up a hose and headed into the blaze.

  She gasped when they reached the doorway and Jax stopped and turned around, looking past Grant to the crowd. She lifted a hand and willed him to see her, but she was not sure he saw her when he turned back and walked into the apartment with Grant right behind him.

  She stood frozen staring at the doorway where they had disappeared. She knew they probably would not emerge anytime soon, but she could not take her eyes off that black hole, willing them to come out safe and whole. A roaring boom and black smoke and debris whooshing out the doorway caught her by surprise.

  Immediately, everyone in a uniform, fire, police, and others began running around. The scene appeared chaotic but somehow in a well-practiced, organized manner. Though her gaze occasionally left the doorway to glance around, it always returned to the doorway where Jax and Grant had walked into a fiery hell.

  “Why aren’t they coming out?” she asked. “Where are they?”

  Then two more men with a hose entered the doorway followed by several others with fire axes, chainsaws, and other equipment.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

  “That your apartment, honey?” The elderly man standing next to her patted her shoulder.

  Gwen shook her head and bit her lip as two men carried a third out between them. She could not tell if it was her son or her mate, but no matter which one he was, she needed to get to him. Ducking under the plastic “Do Not Cross” tape draped around the parking lot as a barrier, she kept one eye on the apartment door as she hurried to where two ambulances waited at the far edge of the scene, just in case.

  Two police officers stepped in front of her, but she managed to dodge them and reached the ambulance just as the firefighters laid him on the gurney. It took both of them to pull his helmet and mask off while holding him down as he tried to fight them.

  It was Grant. He appeared as mad as a wet hen as he fought the hands holding him down. “Let me up. I’m fine. It’s Jax who’s hurt.”

  “And we’ll take care of him just as soon as we dig him out,” the man wearing the chief’s white hat assured him.

  Gwen pushed her way through the crush of bodies surrounding her son. “Grant?”

  “Mom? What are you doing here?” Shoving off the hands that held him, Grant sat up and reached for her.

  In the next heartbeat, she was wrapped in her son’s arms and holding him tight. He was wet and dirty and smelled of smoke and fire. Now that she knew he was all right, her tears fell and released a fraction of the tense fear that filled her like a too-big balloon in a small box.

  “Where’s Jax?”

  Chapter 9

  Jax heard Grant screaming in his ear through the charcoal gray that shrouded his brain, but he could not answer. Pain wracked his brain and left leg and body as something pressed hard across his air tank. He was not sure that even if he could speak that anyone would hear or understand him. Biting his lips, he focused on taking breaths that did not hurt his ribs too much.

  He remained on the edge of consciousness, unable to move from the debris of the second floor, which had landed on him. He fought to push back the blackness that dragged at him, trying to pull him into the vortex of unconsciousness.

  “Stanopolis, can you hear me?” A new voice entered his head, demanding in its tone.

  With a snarling groan, Jax moved his hand to his headset and scraped his gloved finger across the microphone twice. After pausing he did it a second time, all the while working to breathe and fighting to stay conscious.

  “I hear you, brother. We got Ford out okay. The fire’s under control, and we’re coming to get you.”

  Jax scraped the microphone twice more and then tried to do as ordered. The others would deal with the fire, casualties, and getting him out. All he could do was try to control his cougar who wanted to shift in order to speed his healing.

  Though tempted, he could not take the chance that his fellow firefighters would reach him while he was in his altered form. The reason shape-shifters had survived among humans so long was that they kept their presence in the world a secret, except in the fantasy world of books and movies.

  He relaxed and drifted in the state of somewhere in between as he waited for his fellow firefighters to get him out. He heard voices and saws and felt the ceiling that had collapsed on him shifting and finally lifting off his back. A moment later, his air tank disappeared along with his helmet. They left the air mask in place.

  “Okay, Stanopolis, we got you. Just relax and let us do all the work. We’re going to roll you over onto a backboard then get your ass out of here. Can you move your arms and legs?” the voice in his head said with what sounded like a forced calmness.

  Jax grunted in response. “Arms yes. Legs not sure about.”

  He tried to relax, but the minute they moved him he snarled at his rescuers. The pain in what seemed to be every part of his body grew to the point that all Jax could do was let go and allow the black nothingness to suck him under.

  * * * *

  By the time four firemen carried a fifth out of the building, Grant had been pronounced fine and released back to duty. Hugging her one last time, he whispered in her ear, “He saved my life, so if you want to be with him, I guess I can’t stand in your way, as long as he makes you happy.”

  Gwen smiled and nodded but could not speak through the lump of fear in her throat.

  Grant walked away, but none of the other men and women in uniforms forced her back behind the line to rejoin the rest of the spectators. After the scene with Grant, word spread that she was part of the brotherhood, even if she was just a mother.

  Seeing Jax strapped down to the backboard as the men carried him out of the building just about drove Gwen to her knees. They had just met, just mated. He could not die yet. There was so much she wanted to talk with him about. So much she wanted to learn about him and his alternate self.

  Problem was, when she rushed to where he was being settled on a gurney, the other officers crowded around and she could not get through to see him, touch him, confirm to herself that he was alive.

  She was pushed out of the way as the gurney was loaded onto the ambulance. When she asked to ride with him, everyone looked at her like she was speaking Greek or ancient Latin. Instead they closed the doors and sent the ambulance on its way.

  Grabbing the arm of the nearest man, who turned out to be the captain who had spoken with Grant earlier, she motioned to the leaving ambulance. “Where are they taking him?”

  He frowned at her but apparently saw the anguish in her expression. “Houston General. But they won’t tell you anything unless you’re family.”

  She nodded and turned away. They would tell her. One way or another, not only would they tell her what was wrong with Jax, they would let her see him or she would tear the building down brick by brick until they did.

  As she walked toward the crime scene tape, she looked for Grant but did not see him anywhere. He was fine. Jax was not. Jax needed her now.

  Pushing through crowd, she finally got through and then began to jog home. By the time she got to her front door, she vowed to start a more rigorous exercise program. After all, she was now a cougar and as such had to get in shape to keep up with her hot, sexy younger man.

  * * * *

  The waiting room the emergency room nurse finally led her to was cold, sterile, and except for a television tuned to a twenty-four-hour news station, distinctly lacking in any sort of entertainment. No books, no magazines, just her, the four walls, and the talking head who was smiling pleasantly even though she was reporting about a wildfire in California t
hat had destroyed more than two hundred homes.

  Gwen sat and tried to read one of her erotic books on her tablet, but she had no concentration for absorbing the words on the page like she normally did. Finally, she slid the electronic gadget back into her purse, stood, and began to pace the room.

  When the reporter on television grew too grating to bear, she found the remote hidden in the volunteer’s desk drawer and began changing channels, finally find the classic movie network where an old musical was playing. She returned to pacing, but at least the music was upbeat and happy, keeping her spirits from dropping too low into the black hole she could feel forming near her heart.

  Over the next hour, she was joined by men. A lot of men. Some wore various forms of the Houston Fire Department uniform. Some wore T-shirts with jeans or shorts. All had the same clean, lean look to them that both Jax and Grant wore, so she knew they were all part of the brotherhood of firefighters both her men belonged to.

  The fact that she thought of Jax as her man startled her. But the realization felt right. So very right. They barely knew one another, but now that she had held him in her arms, in her body, bore his mark, she would not let him go without a fight. A big, bloody battle. That he was injured and she could not get to him was about to kill her.

  Hours passed, but Gwen could not settle, no matter how many times one man or another offered her a chair. She was so lost in her own world, she barely noticed that someone had brought in food and drinks until Grant came to her.

  He was wearing the same clothes he had worn that morning while demanding to know what was going on between her and Jax. She absently noted he looked tired and had a hole in the shirtsleeve that needed mending. The thought was gone as quickly as she had thought it when he settled his hands on her shoulders and got nose-to-nose with her.

  “You have to eat something,” he said after hearing her turn down yet another offer of food. “Jax will kick both our butts if you get sick. Now come over here and sit down.”

  Gwen was so startled at this new, surprisingly mature adult who looked like her son and was taking charge as if she were the child and he the parent. She wanted to fight but had the feeling he was correct in his assessment. Without a word, she allowed him to lead her to where two chairs suddenly opened up.

  She sat, and several plates of food appeared in front of her from young men who looked like they should still be in high school, but who at one time or another Grant had introduced her to though she could not remember a single name. Pizza, fried chicken, or a sub. Going for the comfort, she chose the pizza and nibbled on it. A moment later, a can of her favorite soda was pressed into her hand by an older man.

  “He’ll be fine, Miz Mom,” he said with a smile that went a long way to comfort her. “One way or another, it will all work out.”

  Gwen finished the slice and the soda and relaxed somewhat though tensed every time someone new walked in the door. Finally yet another man walked in, only this time things were different. He had the bearing of a man used to being in charge. When his gaze swept the room, silence descended in seconds.

  He waited nearly a full minute before saying, “He’s alive but only semiconscious. He has several broken bones, and the docs say it’s going to be a couple of days before they finish assessing the damage and can give us a definite prognosis.”

  That announcement sent a wave of relief through the room, though Gwen heard a skeptical hesitation in his voice. Then his eyes found her, and he crossed the room to her. “I’m Chief Mapleton. Would you happen to be Gwenalynn?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, wondering what Jax said about her.

  “He’s been calling for you. Please come with me, and we’ll see about getting you in to see him.”

  Chapter 10

  Five minutes later after a showdown between the chief and the floor’s head nurse, Gwen pushed open a door down the hall and around the corner from where she had been waiting and worrying about her mate. Stepping inside with the nurse and fire chief a step behind, her eyes went to the only bed in the room.

  Her heart hurt for the man lying so still in the bed with tubes and wires running out from under the covers all over his body. At the same time, she was relieved to see he truly was alive, even if he did look terrible. She slowly crossed to the bed, not wanting to disturb him, but needing to touch him and assure herself that he was real.

  Reaching the bed, she froze when he moaned and called out, “Gwenalynn. Where are you, mate?”

  Then she did the only thing she knew to do. Slipping her hand into his, she leaned over the bed and brushed her lips across his forehead. “I’m here, Jax. I’m right here with you. Rest now, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  Jax took a deep breath and sighed as his fingers squeezed hers then relaxed again. When she tried to pull from his grasp, his fingers tightened again as if he did not want her to get away.

  “See, I told you,” the chief said, pulling her attention from Jax.

  The nurse harrumphed before she whirled around and walked out.

  The chief brought a chair around from the other side of the bed and held it until Gwen sat. “I’m going to list you on his paperwork as a relative if that’s all right,” he said easily. “As far as I know, he doesn’t have any relatives in the area, and if she’s the quality of nursing staff, he’s going to need someone to fight for him.”

  Gwen nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of him.”

  After the chief left, Gwen settled in. Finding the remote on the stand by the bed, she turned the television on, lowered the volume, and then began flipping, trying to find something that would keep her awake. Once again she settled on an old movie. Pulling out her tablet, she settled in for a long night.

  * * * *

  Jax woke in pain. A lot of pain. Opening his eyes, he looked around and wondered how the hell he had gotten to the hospital and into a room. He searched his memory, but the last thing he could recall clearly was shoving Grant back as a ceiling came down in an apartment.

  Hearing a soft sigh and feeling a small hand squeeze his, he tried to turn his head, but could not. But he knew that scent. Oranges and honey. The hand in his had to belong to his mate.

  “Gwenalynn,” he croaked through a dry and gravel-filled throat as he squeezed the hand in his. “Mate, wake up. I need you to do something for me.”

  “What? Are you all right? I was so worried,” she said, sounding slightly befuddled as she woke up and then leaned over the bed so he could see her.

  “I need you to close and lock the door,” he said through gritted teeth then groaned when he tried to swallow.

  A moment later, ice chips were held to his lips. “Suck on these. Lock the door? But the nurse said—” she tried to argue.

  “I can shift and heal myself a helluva lot faster than anything so called modern medicine can do. But we can’t having the nurse walk in while I’m in cougar form, now can we?” Though he tried to be gentle with his mate, the pain that filled his body had him snarling his words.

  Gwen’s expression turned wary and fearful as she stared at him. “Wouldn’t you rather just hit the pump for some pain medication?”

  “If I do that, I won’t be able to shift. Please, mate, just close and lock the door. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  * * * *

  She was just dozing off when Jax woke her. Though hesitant, she did as he requested, easing the door closed before twisting the lock. There had been a parade of nurses in the time she had been here since he was considered a hero as well as still being in serious condition. It would not be long before someone came knocking on the door. She only hoped Jax could heal himself enough before then.

  Before she could return to the bed, Jax had already shifted and was lying on his side facing away from her. He had left the monitor wires in place, though she noticed he had pulled the oxygen prongs and catheter. As a cougar, Jax was beautiful but was panting hard and occasionally whimpering with his pain.

  Gen
tly stroking the big cat, Gwen tried to assure herself that his snapping at her was a result of the pain and once he was no longer hurting, he would be back to his old self.

  But what self is that? You’ve known the man barely two days and you’re already making decisions about how life is going to go with him?

  All at once, Gwen needed to talk to her friends. She needed someone to tell her she was not crazy for falling for such a younger man. Though he claimed the Fates had brought them together, Gwen still had her doubts, though she found herself completely take in every way with this man even though he was not really a human man.

  Leaving Jax, the cougar, on the bed to rest and heal, she went into the smallest bathroom she had ever seen and closed the door. Pulling out her phone, she made the call she should have made the previous afternoon, after her discussion with Grant about men and what was and what not appropriate.

  Her son had stormed out when she refused to walk away from Jax, refused to acknowledge that he was too young for her, and flatly stated, “He will make me happy. I know he will, and at this time in my life, happy is what I’m looking for.”

  “This had better be damn good,” a male voice answered Stacy’s phone.

  “Could I please speak with Stacy?” Gwen asked, hoping her friend was not too busy to talk.

  “Oh, shit. Sorry. Hang on, I’ll wake her.”

  It took a few seconds, but she finally heard Stacy grumbling and the phone change hands. “What?”

  “It’s Gwen. I need to talk.”

  “Now? It’s like four thirty in the morning.”

  “And it’s three thirty here. I think I found him.”