by Sophie Stern
“What was that for?” I whisper.
“Heat of the moment,” she shrugs. “A thank you.”
“Oh, I think a thank you should be more like this,” I say, and then I grab her and pull her close. I bring my lips down to hers, and I own her mouth for just a moment. This is no innocent kiss. This is no sweet, demure thank you kiss. Nope. My kiss is needy and hot and breathless. My kiss is going to leave her panties wet and her body aching for more.
That’s how I kiss.
That’s how I show appreciation.
I pull away and look down at Theresa. Her eyes are closed and a smile spreads on her face. She reaches for me without opening her eyes and this time, she kisses me again.
And again.
And again.
Fuck, my dick is hard now, and I want more, but we’ve only just met.
She doesn’t seem to mind, though. Theresa makes soft purring sounds and if I didn’t definitively know she was human, I’d say she was a cat shifter for certain. She rubs her body against me greedily seeking more, and I’m so happy to give that to her.
My hand is on her thigh and my lips are on her neck. I kiss her skin, tasting her, craving her.
“Heath,” she murmurs.
“Theresa.”
“You are so fucking hot.”
She looks up at me and opens her eyes, and she just...smiles at me. She looks so innocent and so surprised.
“Why, thank you,” I murmur. I touch her cheek, stroking her skin, and she leans into my hand. Somehow, I get the feeling that Theresa isn’t very experienced when it comes to men or dating. I’m not sure why I get that feeling. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just that she seems so innocently excited by what we’re doing.
“Do you bring a lot of girls here?” She asks, smiling.
I laugh, but I shake my head.
“I can honestly say you’re the first,” I tell her.
“I’m honored.”
“We need drinks.”
I get up and head to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of wine and pour us each a glass. When I bring the glasses back to the couch, she takes hers greedily and chugs it. Then she hands me the glass back.
“Really?”
“What?” She asks. “I like wine.”
“Drink mine and I’ll refill both of the glasses.”
I hand her my own glass and sure enough, she chugs that one, too. I get more wine and this time, we sip our drinks like proper adults while we sit and talk on the couch.
“That kissing,” she shakes her head. “I can honestly say I didn’t expect that when I decided to go camping.”
“What did make you decide to go camping?”
“Life has been a little stressful lately,” she shrugs.
“How so?”
“My job is...complicated.”
“How so?”
“I’m a writer,” she tells me. “And I go to a lot of events where people come meet me.”
“Book signings?”
“Pretty much.”
“And those are stressful?”
“They can be,” she says. “Everyone expects me to be a certain way, and to be honest, I’m kind of introverted. Attending events, signing books, and meeting people can be a little scary for me.”
“I’m sure everyone adores you.”
“My fans are wonderful,” she says. “And really, they aren’t the problem.”
“So who is?”
“My personal assistant.”
“Your assistant?”
“She basically runs my life, and not in a good way. She’s been stressing me out and honestly, I’ve been thinking about just firing her. I asked her not to sign me up for any more events this year so I can just focus on writing, but I just found out she signed me up for another event next weekend.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “That sounds exhausting.”
“It is,” she admits. Then she shakes her head.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask what your job is.”
“I’m in real estate,” I tell her.
“Really?”
“Really and truly. I actually just bought myself some land and I’m going to be building my dream home on it.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“But I buy and sell houses,” I tell her.
“And you enjoy that?”
“I don’t do it super-seriously,” I admit. “I only do it enough to have fun and pay my bills, but yeah, it’s really fun. I love taking old houses and fixing them up. I love turning a wreck of a house into someone’s new dream home. It gives me this deep sense of satisfaction.”
“That actually sounds really magical,” she tells me.
“It is.”
Although my ex never appreciated it.
She always thought it was a stupid job for stupid boys.
“Hey,” Theresa says, and this time, she cups my face. “Are you okay? Looks like you kind of got caught up in your own thoughts.”
“I’m okay,” I tell her.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Not really.”
“That’s okay,” she says, and I’m glad she’s not going to push me. “Let’s just drink our wine and look at the fire, okay?”
I hold up my glass and smile.
“To new adventures.”
“To tonight.”
Chapter Six
Theresa
When I wake up, I’m warm and comfortable and I’m definitely not in my own bed. The previous night’s events all come rushing back to me at once, and I realize that I’m not only not at home, but I’m not at my campsite, either. I’m still at Heath’s house. More than that, I’m on Heath.
I’m sprawled across him on the couch. Snapshots of the night before start coming back to me. We went through three bottles of wine between the two of us, and we laughed all night. We made out and kissed, but somehow, all of our clothing stayed on.
How the hell did that happen?
I must be crazy for not riding this guy because looking at him in the daylight, he’s even hotter than he was last night.
He’s got these tight, rippling abs that I just want to lick. Looking at him now on the couch, I wonder how I managed to have the self-control that I did last night.
How did we not sleep together?
I feel like something definitely should have happened. It seems physically impossible that it didn’t, but here we are.
No, I’m not exactly the type of girl who jumps into bed. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I’ve just always been a little timid when it comes to sex. Despite what my readers think, I’m not exactly getting it every night.
But with him?
Oh, I’d love that.
I reach my hand out and touch his stomach gently, stroking him. I rub my fingers over his abdominal muscles and he wiggles a little beneath my touch. Then he lets out the sexiest, most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard. It’s like a mix between a purr and a growl and oh, it does so many wonderful things to my girl parts. I feel excited and turned on and I want him to wake up so we can kiss some more.
But first, nature calls, and I know that I’ve got the world’s nastiest breath. I get up and manage to do so without waking him up. I sneak off to the bathroom, relieve myself, and then rummage around in his cupboard for a spare toothbrush. I learned long ago that plenty of people keep extra toothbrushes on hand, especially if they live in a place where they can’t just run to the store for dental emergencies.
This guy is no exception. He’s stocked up on toilet paper, toothbrushes, and toothpaste. He’s even got some pads and tampons under here. I realize he told me he doesn’t often entertain lady guests, but it’s nice that he’s prepared for anything. Somehow, that thought makes me like him even more.
As soon as I’m done brushing my teeth, I sneak back out to the living room and just look at him for a long minute. Then I shake my head to try to clear it. What am I doing? Seriously? I’ve got kids. Not only do I have kids, but I have
kids with me.
I need to check on them, and that should really be my first priority over some guy.
Some guy I’ve never met.
Some guy who was just totally willing to help me take care of my kids on a whim.
My heart hurts when I think about how wrong everything could have gone. I mean, they were alone in the woods. They were alone in the woods and we all could have just died. I hate myself for fainting when my kids changed into bears. Hate it. I hate knowing that I’m the reason my kids were able to run free and loose.
If I had just kept it together for a little while, then everything would have been okay.
But I couldn’t.
It makes me feel weak and crappy to know just how close to danger my kids really were. More than that, I feel truly lucky that Heath was there to rescue them.
He saved them when I couldn’t. I’ll always owe him for that. I turn around, fully ready to go check on the boys, when he stirs.
“Hey,” I hear his voice behind me. It’s still thick with sleepiness, and I turn around to look at him. He’s standing right behind me. I have no idea how he moved so swiftly or so silently. It must be a shifter thing.
He’s wearing pajama pants and nothing else. Not that I’d want him to be wearing anything but this.
If he were my boyfriend, I’d never want him in anything else but this. I have no idea how his girlfriend managed to leave him. She’s crazy, or an idiot. Probably both. He’s wonderfully handsome and sweet as pie.
“Hey.”
“How’d you sleep?” He asks. He’s keeping his distance, I notice, and I kind of respect that. Maybe he doesn’t want me to feel pressured or cornered. Perhaps he doesn’t want me to feel like I’m being preyed upon.
Either way, I take it upon myself to take the first step forward.
He looks at me, carefully keeping his eyes on mine. I know why. I’m aroused at the sight of him. It feels naughty, actually. Bad. My nipples are hard, I know, and they’re straining at the t-shirt he gave me to sleep in. I’m not wearing a bra.
There’s literally nothing between the two of us except this thin strip of cotton. If I reach for him and pull him close, if I touch him, then I’ll be able to rub my breasts against him. Suddenly, that’s actually what I want. I want to feel him against me. I want to purr like a kitten.
Oh, I want him.
“I slept fine,” I finally whisper.
Heath growls. He actually fucking growls at me, and now it’s his turn to step closer. My heart races, and I feel like I’m in the middle of a game of sexual chess. Who’s going to move next? What will happen when they make their move?
More importantly, am I a pawn or a queen?
He reaches for me, showing me that he’s not afraid to go after what he wants, and he grabs my waist. I look up at him and smile. I’m excited and interested in what he’s doing. I want him to pull me closer so I can rub up against him.
I don’t have to wait long. Heath grabs me by the hair and tugs my head back. Then he kisses me on the neck and down to my shoulder, where he bites me, nipping at my skin.
I groan, letting out a sound I didn’t even know I could make.
“Oh, do you like this?” He murmurs, chuckling against me. He looks up and I nod fervently.
“Yes. Yes, I like it.” I spit the words out quickly, as though if I don’t get them out fast enough he’s going to stop, but he only smiles.
“Good,” he says, and then he pulls away.
He presses his lips to mine and kisses me deeply. I’m even more aroused by his kiss than I thought I could be.
Is it because we stayed up talking so late?
Is there more to it than that?
“Theresa,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Heath.”
“I want you,” he growls, and oh, I want him so much, too. I want all of him. It’s a terrible thing, really, because we’re strangers. In my books, the characters get together so quickly. They fall in love fast and hard and wonderfully, but this?
This isn’t a book.
This is real life, and in real life, there’s no happy ending for people who just met. That’s not how storytelling works. It simply can’t happen that way.
“I want you, too,” I tell him. He hisses, grabbing my ass, and he pulls me closer to him. I writhe against him, moaning and breathing heavily. If I keep rubbing against him, I’m definitely going to end up making myself come. There’s just no way it won’t happen.
I’m close: so close. I’m literally teetering on the edge of pleasure when suddenly, he pulls away and looks at me strangely.
“What?” I whisper.
“They’re awake.”
“What?”
“The kids.” He laughs lightly, looking at me. “You don’t hear them?”
I shake my head.
“Huh,” he shrugs. “Must be a shifter thing. “Come on, then.”
He takes my hand, and almost as though we weren’t just making out and on the verge of actually having sex with one another, he leads me to the bedroom. Heat pushes the door open, and sure enough, my kids are in there.
To my surprise, though, they aren’t jumping on the bed or running around the room looking for toys. They’re just...hanging out.
“Hey boys,” Heath says, leaning against the door. “Who wants breakfast?”
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
“I do!”
“Me, me, me!”
“ME!”
“No, I want it!”
The kids start yelling. Over and over, they begin jumping up and down, and oh, they’re hollering.
I hold my hand up.
“Stop,” I say.
They don’t stop.
“Hey,” I raise my voice a little, and they look at me. Then I raise my hand again in a “stop” motion. “It’s time to calm down.”
“But, mom,” Silas whines.
“But, mom,” Sebastian echoes.
“No buts,” I say, and they both start laughing.
Great. Now I’ve done it. I’ve somehow managed to not only not stop my kids from being hyped up and wild, but I’ve given them a fit of giggles.
Even Heath cracks a smile.
“All right, boys,” he grins. “Who wants to help me make pancakes?”
“I do!”
“Me, me, me!”
“First,” he holds up his hand, imitating the “stop” gesture I used. “I’m going to need you to promise to take care of your mom.”
“What do you mean?” Silas cocks his head, confused.
“I mean that your mom does a lot for you both, and she works hard. I need you to take care of her, okay?”
Both of my boys look from me to Heath to me to Heath, and then they surprise me by nodding easily.
“Okay,” Sebastian says.
“Okay,” Silas parrots.
Heath looks at me and winks.
“Why don’t you hop in the shower while the boys and I make breakfast?” He says. “There are extra towels under the sink and I promise there’s plenty of hot water.”
I’m just about to protest when I realize what he’s doing. He’s giving me a chance to have a little break, and I’m not about to give that up. Not only is Heath absolutely wonderful with kids, but he’s a shifter, too, so he really understands exactly what they’re going through.
Oh, and he’s hot.
Like, really hot.
As soon as I’m in the shower, I close my eyes and just let the water rain down on me. He’s got a waterfall shower, so the water covers absolutely everything. My entire body is covered in water and it just...it just coats me with this feeling that everything’s going to be okay.
Part of me feels like a bad mother.
Scratch that: a terrible mother. Part of me feels like no matter what happens in my life, I’m never going to be able to live up to who my own parents were. They were always there for me. They were always kind. They were gentle.
Perhaps most importantly
, they loved each other and they loved me so very much.
With my own kids, I hope I’m conveying that same message. I hope that each day, they wake up and they just feel so loved. I hope they come to understand that yeah, they might not have a dad, but that’s okay.
I hope they realize that sometimes, having a mother is more than enough.
Finally, I manage to convince myself that it’s time to get out of the shower, and I wrap myself in a towel. Standing in front of the mirror, I look at the girl in the mirror. Well, she’s not much of a girl anymore, now is she?
Nope.
The person I’m looking at is a woman, through-and-through.
She’s strong and tall and brave and she’s...
Well, she’s trying her best.
Right?
I just wish that my best was a little bit better. Oh, work is fine, and my kids are fine. My life overall is fine, but I’ve been stressed with the book signings and my writing schedule. Despite having a personal assistant, I often feel out of control. Sometimes it seems like everyone else in the world has more agency over themselves than I do.
Sometimes it seems like no matter how hard I work, I just can’t get ahead.
I look at the clothing I was wearing yesterday. Then I look at the t-shirt Heath gave me to sleep in. There must be something seriously wrong with me because I kind of just want to keep wearing the t-shirt. I’m sorry, but I love the way it feels against my skin. I love the way I look in it. Hell, I love the way it still smells like him even when I’m inside of it.
On impulse, I grab the shirt, yank it over my head, and look at myself in the mirror. I love it. It looks good. Yeah, it’s really baggy, but I don’t care. There’s just something about having his scent wrapped around me that makes me feel absolutely fantastic.
Then I remember that I’m going to be hiding back to my campsite sooner or later, so I take the shirt off, put my bra back on, and then put the shirt on one more time. I follow with my jeans, but skip the panties. My panties and t-shirt from yesterday are things I can live without, so I bundle those up and shove them into my pocket. I’ll wash them when I go back home tomorrow.
Not that I want to go home.
Not after all of this.
Is it terrible that I just want to stay here?
Is it horrible that I’m finding myself falling for someone who isn’t even human?