by TJ Cross
I collapsed backward onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
“What are you doing, Rhys?” I asked myself. “What the hell is going on?”
I laid there for a while, then stood up and began pacing. I’d never felt so anxious in my life, so unsure of myself. In a fit of silent rage, I slammed my fist into a nearby wall, knocking a hole into it in the process and bloodying my knuckles.
For hours, I paced back and forth, my body still high on the thought of the man in the elevator. There was no way around it. I had to have him. I had to. One way or another, I had to find him, fuck him, and get over him. I couldn’t let the thought of one man keep me from living my life.
Part of me just wanted to abandon the hotel altogether, to get on my bike and ride as fast and far away as possible. I wanted to let the road and the wind erase the memory of the man. I wanted to ensure myself that no one could have such an effect on me.
And yet, I couldn’t.
Instead, I collapsed once again onto the bed and, finally, drifted off into a fitful sleep.
***
The sun was already filtering in through the hotel window when I woke up. I shot up, my thoughts immediately returning to the man from the night before. I had to find him, had to track him down before he left the hotel for the day. With any luck, he’d still be asleep himself. It had been after midnight when I’d met him on the elevator, and he had probably slept in.
I checked the clock on the wall and took note of the time. It was only seven-thirty. If I was lucky, he’d still be around and I could cut him off in the lobby before he left.
I threw off my clothes, tossing them in the small washer and retrieved my last set from my bag. I slipped on white V-neck tee shirt and a pair of cargo pants then grabbed the keycard off the table where I’d thrown it and slipped out of my hotel room.
The floor was empty as I made my way back toward the elevator, the memory of the man standing there, gazing into my eyes, still burning in my memory. My cock bounced at the thought, and I had to force myself to stay focused. I summoned the elevator, climbed aboard, and repeatedly slapped at the button for the lobby until the doors slid shut. The elevator ride felt like it took forever and, when I finally reached the main floor, the door took ages to creak open.
I raced across the lobby, making way for the parking lot to see if any of the cars I’d seen last night were missing. While the parking lot had been practically empty the night before, I distinctly remembered seeing a few older sedans a blue muscle car. For whatever reason, the man struck me as the sort to have a muscle car, so I searched for it first. It was still sitting in exactly the same place as last night, and I let out an audible sigh of relief. If that was the man’s car, he was still here.
I couldn’t base my hopes on a car that might be his, though, so I did the only other thing that I could. I turned to the front desk.
There was a girl working the desk that morning, something that forced a frown to my face. The girl hadn’t been working the night before, which meant that there was no way she’d know whether or not the tall, broad-shouldered, unbearably attractive man was still there. Had the cute guy from last night still been working, he might have been able to tell me. As it stood, though, I’d just have to wait around and bide my time.
“May I help you?” the girl at the desk questioned, her voice a little too perky for seven-thirty in the morning. I waved her off and turned back to the elevator. Which, of course, is when I heard the engine rev up behind me.
I turned around just in time to see the man from the elevator throw his metallic blue Camaro into gear and pull out of the parking lot. For a long moment, I stood there, bewildered, until the memory of the hotel’s stairwell exit jumped into my mind.
“Shit,” I cursed before darting out the building’s front exit and racing toward my bike.
AUGUST
I peeled out of the parking lot as fast as I could, doing my best to shake off the thoughts that had been plaguing me all night. For hours, I had tossed and turned in the bed, my mind replaying the scene in the elevator over and over again. I couldn’t get past the way the man had looked at me and gazed into my eyes. I’d never felt anything like it. It wasn’t just attraction, it wasn’t just lust. It was something else entirely, and I didn’t know what to think about that.
For one, I was a bear and he was…something else. I hadn’t placed it yet, but I knew he wasn’t human. And besides, he’d been pretty occupied with someone else entirely. There was no way he could be who I thought he was, and I needed to get as far from him as possible.
After finally drifting off to sleep, I’d woken up around seven, taken a shower, then called downstairs to let the front desk know that I’d be checking out. To my surprise, a woman had answered the phone and confirmed my checkout before telling me about a stairwell that led straight to the parking lot where my car was parked. I’d thanked the woman for the information, gathered my things, and left the room. The clock in the hallway read a few minutes past seven-thirty as I passed it in search of the stairwell.
I’d found the stairwell with ease, then taken the stairs two at a time. I needed to get out and get away. It was bad enough that I had to worry about my father tracking me down, but now I had to worry about running into him again. And I wasn’t so sure I could handle either experience right now. Not when my mind felt so clouded and my heart so stricken. Even my bear seemed confused as if the odd attraction had taken him off guard as well.
I eased my car down the city streets, weaving my way through the traffic of the barely awake environment. I tried focusing on the sights, taking in the daytime architecture, but I couldn’t do it. My mind kept returning to thoughts of the man in the elevator.
Out of nowhere, a motorcycle pulled up behind me, riding dangerously close to my rear bumper. I shot the biker a scowl in my rear-view mirror, then switched lanes. Rather than driving past me, though, the biker shifted into the lane behind me once more.
“What the hell?” I hissed, rolling down my window and motioning for the biker to go around.
The biker obliged, shifting back into the lane to my left, then drove up parallel to my car. For a moment, I thought he was going to pull a gun out and shoot at me. Then I realized exactly who the biker was.
Holy hell.
“Pull over!” the man on the motorcycle - the same man as the night before - shouted. Without taking a second to think it over, I did as directed and pulled into a parking space on the side of the street, my heart pounding against my chest.
The man pulled into the parking space in front of my car, hopped off the bike, and ran to my passenger door. He tore open the door and climbed inside the car, sitting across from me, and stared directly into my eyes.
The electric sensations sparked up again and it took everything in me not to melt into the man’s arms. We both sat there, neither of us speaking, both of us barely breathing and stared into each other’s eyes.
“Shit,” he finally managed, breaking the silence with his velvety voice. “You’re a bear.”
Then, without warning, he dove across the car at me, pressing his lips against mine. For a brief second, I wanted to resist. But then, everything inside me screamed to keep going, begging for more and more. So I gave in. I let myself fall into the moment, into the stranger’s kiss.
His mouth devoured mine, tasting me hungrily as he pressed closer against me and his hands began working their way onto and up my leg. My own hands grabbed at his hair, grasping at thick locks of sandy-golden perfection and pulled him closer against me. Our tongues danced against each other’s, tracing and exploring the inside of each other’s mouths. His hand finally reached the inside of my thigh, dipping beneath my shorts, and I shuddered as the ecstasy from the moment continued to build up.
The man’s touch was electrifying. Everywhere his skin pressed against mine, the very fabric of my being exploded into bursts of sheer ecstasy. Whatever he was, whoever he was, I wanted him. I wanted him more than I could even possibly be
gin to have him in the tiny space that the car allowed. More than that, my bear wanted him. Wanted to devour him, to take him, to claim him.
I started at that thought, disrupting the sudden moment of passion and pushed back at the stranger. I didn’t know who he was, didn’t know where he came from, didn’t know what was hiding beneath his skin. I couldn’t want him, not like this. It had to be a trick. Maybe even just the toil of the emotions that had plagued me since abandoning my family.
He stared into my eyes again, this time from only a few inches away, his breath hot and heavy in my face. I could smell him, smell his lust, his desire, his need. He wanted this as much as I did. Or, at least, whatever was inside of him wanted it.
“Wait, sorry. Shit,” I stammered, trying to steady my breathing.
The man shook his head, “I don’t think I can.”
My heart leaped out of my chest at that and I almost dove back against him. Instead, I pushed him a little further away and shook my head. “Something is going on. Something…raw. And besides, we can’t do this here.” I motioned to the ever-increasing droves of people moving about the city outside the car. “I can’t do this here.”
“Fine,” the man said, sitting upright in his seat. “Then head back to the hotel.”
I stared at him for a second, not sure whether he was serious. “What about your bike?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Fuck it. Now let’s go.” Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and started breathing deeply.
I couldn’t tell if he was angry or annoyed, but I knew that there was something going on behind those closed eyes. He didn’t exactly look like the type of man who was often denied. In fact, if anything, he looked more like the type who took what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he liked.
And, to be honest, something about that had my cock standing proud against the inside of my shorts.
I did my best to ignore the sexy, hard-bodied man in my passenger seat as I pulled away from the curve, performed a U-turn, and navigated back toward the hotel. In a matter of minutes, I was pulling back into my parking space and climbing out of the car, keys in hand.
The man - I still didn’t even have his name! - led the way, guiding me back to through the hotel lobby and into the elevator, all in silence. In fact, he didn’t speak a word the entire time. We rode the elevator to his floor, hopped off, and I followed him back to his room. The man fumbled with his keycard for a second, then forced the door open, gesturing for me to step inside. I obliged, taking note of the musty smell of sweat in the room.
“Have a seat,” the man finally said, pointing to the recliner in the corner of the room.
I nodded and took my seat, then watched as he grabbed a stool from the counter and sat it across from me.
“Look,” he started, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on. I don’t know who the fuck you are. And I don’t know why the fuck you’re making me feel like this. But we need to sort it out. Now.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. So he was feeling it too. I wasn’t crazy.
“Let’s start with the easy part first,” he continued. “I’m Rhys.”
I smiled at him. Rhys. The name fit.
“August,” I told him. “Or August.”
He nodded. “Great. So that’s who we are. As for what we are, you’re a bear. I can smell it. That stench is unmistakable.”
My eyes widened at that, somewhat taken aback by the bitterness in his tone. “That stench?”
“Did I stutter?” he questioned, frowning at me. “You all smell the same. Wet. Oily. Big.”
Huh. He had a point. Though “stench” isn’t necessarily the word I’d have used.
“Fair enough,” I conceded. “You’re…something else entirely. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything like you.”
The man - Rhys - scoffed. “No, I wouldn’t figure a mountain bear like you would have.” Then, he stood up, kicked the stool backward, and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he did. My breath caught in my throat as I looked him over, his hard pectoral muscles spilled over onto rippling washboard abs that I had to force myself not to lick. But he wasn’t done undressing.
Rhys kicked off his boots, then hooked his fingers around the top of his cargo pants. He tugged at them, pulling the pants and his boxer briefs down in unison, letting them puddle onto the floor.
“Holy shit,” I stammered as my jaw fell agape.
As a bear, I’m used to big. Hell, my people took pride in how big we were. But Rhys…he was big. Impossibly massive, to the point that I almost choked at just the sight of his cock. I didn’t get much time to enjoy the view, however, because Rhys suddenly shifted, his body exploding into the form of a massive tiger. Rhys’s orange and black fur was absolutely stunning, to the point that I was more surprised and in awe of his beast’s beauty than I had been of the man’s body.
It was exotic, wild, and almost intangible. Where one color faded, another flooded into view, almost rippling across his entire, massive body. He was, without question, the most impressive thing that I had ever seen. And then, in no more than a blink, he was gone. In the tiger’s stead stood Rhys, still bearing the fullness of his glory for me to see, one hand stroking his massive cock.
“Shit,” I managed, before standing up and diving across the room at him. There was just no way I could hold back anymore.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, my head level with his navel, and looked up at his eyes longingly. Whatever was going on, whatever feelings I was experiencing, it was all too much to fight against. So I was giving in.
I took Rhys’s cock out of his hand, wrapping it in my own fist and began pumping it gently. He was a large, powerful man and I knew that he could handle rough. But, for the moment at least, I wanted him to know what easy felt like. I wanted him to beg for the rest.
I stroked Rhys’s cock, pumping it with my fist at an ever increasing speed, the velvety skin slipping easily inside my large fist. Rhys groaned, throwing his head back toward the ceiling, and I couldn’t help but grin. Then I pulled his cock toward my mouth, flicking out my tongue as I did and trailed it across his slit, tasting the salt of his pre-cum as I did.
“Jesus, fuck,” Rhys moaned, and I rewarded him by taking his massive member into my mouth. I let him enter a little at first, just enough to wet the head and send a shiver down his spine. I knew what he needed, knew what he wanted, and he’d get it in time.
I swirled my tongue over his head, cupping his balls with my free hand, and continued to pump his shaft. I was pumping harder now, and the trio of sensations had Rhys shuddering between moans. Then, when I didn’t think he could handle anymore, I opened my mouth wider and took him in, letting him drive the fullness of his massive shaft deep into my throat.
“Fuck!” Rhys shouted, ecstasy lacing his voice. “Let me fuck your face, Gussy. Let me…”
Gussy? I thought. I like that.
And I rewarded him further, pulling back, then diving in again. Before long, we were in a rhythm, with Rhys thrusting into my mouth as I let him sink deeper and deeper into my throat. Suddenly, Rhys’s entire body tensed up and a spurt of salty, hot liquid flooded my throat. He thrust a few more times, each time sending more and more of his spunk down the back of my throat. Finally, when he was spent, Rhys backed away and fell backward onto the nearby bed.
“Oh my God,” Rhys panted, as I climbed onto the bed beside him. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
I smiled. “What can I say?” And then, without thinking, I added, “I just wanted to please my mate.”
Rhys shot up in the bed and leaned over me, the color draining from his face.
RHYS
Mate. The word sent a shudder down my spine. He called me his mate.
There was no way. No how. Uh uh. I didn’t do “mating”. I banged, I screwed, I fucked. End of story.
I mean, yes, I’m a shifter. In fact, I’m one of the rarer shifters. There are only a handful of tigers on the planet, and we all come from th
e same ancient lineage. And, yes, tigers mated. But to each other. And even then, that was rare. We were more attached to our freedom than we were to procreating and extending our bloodlines.
There was no way that I could be August’s mate. There was no way I could be a bear’s mate. The thought alone was preposterous. Interspecies sex, not to mention mating was taboo in most cultures. Most people - myself included - considered it impossible. Yes, I had loose standards. Like all tigers, I wanted the freedom to explore and enjoy myself. And if that meant fucking a human, no harm done. It isn’t like we can impregnate anyone besides our mates, after all. And we only mate with other tigers.
I ran the thoughts through my head at a breakneck pace, trying to will myself into believing them.
But I couldn’t.
I knew, somehow, that the word applied here. I knew that August was right. I knew that, somehow, his bear and my tiger were connected. It didn’t make any sense, but it’s also a fact that Fate rarely does. Try as I might, I just couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t deny this unmistakable feeling in my chest. I couldn’t deny the sudden well of emotion that I was experiencing. For the first time that I could remember, I felt like I needed someone.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It’s why I hadn’t been able to screw around with the college kid from the night before. My tiger wanted August and August alone. It wouldn’t allow me to have anyone else.
“Oh hell,” I muttered, realizing that I was still leaning over August on the bed.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, concern obvious in his eyes.
“I don’t think we’re done talking yet,” I told him, then grabbed his hands and helped him sit up.
Once August was seated upright, I grabbed my clothes off the floor and started pulling them on, much to my tiger’s dismay. If the beast had it his way, I’d be ravaging August from one end to the other. After I finished dressing, I took a seat on the stool again, pulling it up so that I was parallel with August’s position on the bed.