by Kit Tunstall
The bachelorette party was as clichéd as it came, but still incredibly fun. They went to a strip club as she had predicted, and hard-bodied, oiled men gyrated in a private back room for them. The g-strings they wore did little to hide the bulges pressing against the cloth, and the men flirted, touched, and behaved outrageously.
Grace was unmoved. She should have been turned on beyond belief, but instead, she was just going through the motions. Oh, she was laughing and enjoying herself with her best friend and the new girls she was becoming friendly with, but the male strippers left her cold.
All she could think about was Kingston, and discovering what he looked like underneath his lumberjack outfit. Just thinking about undoing the first few buttons of his flannel shirt was enough to make her panties drenched and cause her to shift uncomfortably in the tight leather skirt. This was a form of torture, and it was self-inflicted, because she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about touching him for more than a few minutes at a time.
It was going to be a long night, especially when she was impatient to see Kingston again. All of him.
Chapter Three
Kingston stared moodily into the crackling fire, his thoughts occupied with what Breanna’s group might be up to at that moment. More specifically, Breanna’s maid-of-honor. What was Grace doing? Was she at that moment enjoying a lap dance from some stranger, letting his cock rub up and down all over her with only a thin layer of cloth between them?
His bear rumbled in anger, and he tried to soothe it, though his heart wasn’t in the task. He felt the same irrational surge of jealousy for the stripper who might or might not exist. All he knew was if he saw anything like that, some dancer rubbing against his mate, he’d probably tear the man in half before turning to Grace to remind her to whom she belonged.
Which was completely unfair, since she didn’t know she belonged to him. Of course she had free will to reject him too, and as a human, she wasn’t as bound by her pheromones as he was. She wouldn’t recognize him as her mate just by scent, and she was quite likely to freak out if and when he told her about his ursine side.
Cold, hard facts didn’t make him feel any better about imagining strange men groping her curvy frame. Just thinking about her skin pressed into that sexy leather outfit she wore earlier made his cock ache and renewed his hard-on all over again. Not that the damn thing had ceased to be a nuisance at all since he’d seen her like that. That black corset thing and red skirt had nearly been enough to make him lose complete control of his bear.
The animal inside had roared at him to pick her up and spirit her away somewhere private, where they could claim her as theirs. He wanted to sink into the slick well between her thick thighs as much as he wanted to bite her, to mark her with his pheromones and let all other male bear-shifters know she was off-limits.
Having to wait was killing him, but it wouldn’t be fair to Rafe to cause drama at his wedding, and it wouldn’t be fair to overwhelm Grace with the knowledge that he was Ursus sapien instead of Homo sapien. He doubted Breanna had enlightened Grace, so when he told her he could shift to a polar bear, she was unlikely to take the news well, at least at first.
It was advisable to have a strong relationship building between them before he revealed that side. He’d never met a woman he thought was his mate before, but he’d had a few serious relationships in the past, and the one human to whom he had revealed the truth had never spoken to him again. She had been terrified enough to quit her high-paying job and move across the country.
He had been saddened by the loss of her and had cared enough to make sure she had settled safely with discreet inquiries, rather than approaching her himself, but he’d also learned from that lesson that he wouldn’t reveal all of himself until he was certain his next partner was secure in the relationship, and she cared enough to at least give him a chance as all parts of himself.
He knew Rafe disagreed, believing it important to reveal his true nature before he mated with a woman, but it was a decision Kingston would stick with. Besides, he wouldn’t mate with her until she knew what he was. He wouldn’t bite her or mark her as his, not until she knew he was a shifter.
“You look lost in thought,” said Rafe as he sat on the log near him. Both men had stripped down to just jeans, and the crackling bonfire provided ample warmth when coupled with the revved-up metabolism of a shifter. Their bears were eager to shed the human form and run and hunt in this private retreat, but they were all waiting until a few beers had made them mellow before unleashing the animals inside. The other men were all shifters too, and their idea of a bachelor party was to come out to the woods and take down the elk Kingston had flown in just for the occasion.
He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Is nothing about five-four, with heavenly curves, and also my mate’s best friend?”
Kingston smiled, allowing that to be his answer as he tossed a handful of twigs into the fire. “Let’s do this thing.”
“Hell yeah,” said Rafe. “I don’t get how Breanna can prefer a group of half-dressed men to coming out into nature.”
“It’s because she’s a human, and not a bear. If she had one, her inner bear would be telling her to join us.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you have a problem with your fiancée going to a strip club?”
Rafe shook his head. “Nah. She’ll be thinking of me the whole time. It wasn’t her idea anyway. One of the girls from her job came up with the plan, and she just went along with it since it’s the typical bachelorette routine.”
“Well I don’t like it,” said Kingston, realizing he sounded like a petulant child even to himself. “It’s not proper.”
Rafe laughed heartily. “Which is why it’s a bachelorette party and not afternoon tea, my friend.” He clapped him on the shoulders. “Besides, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
He frowned at his friend. “We were talking about your mate.”
Rafe laughed again, shaking his head. “No, I think we were talking about yours.”
Strangely, he felt embarrassed, and a hint of heat crept into his cheeks. “I don’t have a mate.”
“I think you will soon. You recognized her, didn’t you? I mean her pheromones don’t smell all that special to me, but Breanna’s my whole world. I just recognized the look when you first saw her the other night.”
He didn’t bother to deny it as he shucked off his shoes and jeans, stretching for a moment before allowing the polar bear inside to spring free. Yes, he had recognized that she would fit together with him perfectly the very first night he’d met her. Was it just last night? It seemed like much longer. He’d thought she was the one when he sat down beside her, but when her arousal had thickened the air with her unique perfume, he had known.
Well, his bear had known, and the animal had roared to snatch her up in his arms and flee the rehearsal dinner so they could to go somewhere quiet to mate. His bear wanted him to mark her right then, and the human side had only put up token resistance, completely fueled solely by propriety.
He wasn’t resistant to finding a mate, and he was actually looking forward to making that match. Unlike his friend Rafe—who had changed his mind since meeting Breanna—he had always believed bears could recognize the mate meant for them, or at least one who would be an ideally suited match. He didn’t know if it was a biological imperative, or perhaps a bear’s senses that told him the mate for him would be a genetically compatible match to ensure offspring, or if it was something more mystical. All he knew was he believed in it, and he had began to despair that he would ever find his mate as he approached thirty-six.
That fear was alleviated, but completely supplanted by a new one—fear that Grace wouldn’t want him when she knew all about him, and that she would run away as Suzanne had all those years ago. When he lost Suzanne, it had caused heartache that had dissipated slowly over a period of weeks. He had a feeling losing Grace would be far worse, and he hadn’t even officially had her yet.
As he broke in
to a loping run alongside his brethren, he vowed that would change as soon as possible. With any luck, maybe even tonight.
***
His hunt had done little to distract him from thoughts of his mate, and he couldn’t resist the urge to detour to her floor when they arrived back at the hotel a few hours later. He had peeked onto the security program to find out which room she was in earlier, ostensibly to know where to deliver the dress, but in actuality with this shadowy plan in mind.
He didn’t want to frighten her or scare her away, so he knocked with some trepidation on her door. He braced himself for rejection, determined he would leave the moment she told him to, or if she even seemed hesitant at all about him being there. The last thing he wanted to do was make her think he was some psycho obsessed with her.
He could see himself becoming obsessed, but not in a psychotic fashion. It wouldn’t take much for all of his thoughts to revolve around her though, and for her to fit easily into his life simply because he would be determined to make her fit. It was too soon to talk about such things with her though, so he had to content himself with moving slower than that and with whatever was offered tonight, if anything.
She opened the door a moment later, and he barely bit back a groan. At first glance, she wore a granny nightgown that covered her from head to toe. A second look revealed it was made of some kind of diaphanous yellow material that showed far more than it hid. It was a juxtaposition of demure and sexy, and she wore it well. Of course, he’d prefer she not be wearing anything at all.
If she was surprised to see him, it didn’t show. “Kingston,” she said with a purr. If her pheromones hadn’t revealed she was completely human, he would’ve sworn she was a cat-shifter from the way she drew out his name and arched her body.
“Grace.” He loved the sound of her name on his lips. It was a single syllable, but strong yet feminine, just like her. “I was thinking about you.”
“So was I. Thinking about you, I mean,” she purred again. And then she giggled as she ran a hand down her belly, pausing an inch or so above her mound. “I was just thinking about thinking about you while I touch myself. I was thinking if that would be bad to do that again, or if I would come just as hard as I did last night doing that. Thinking about you, I mean. Which I’m thinking about thinking about doing.” She dissolved into giggles.
He groaned softly, recognizing the signs of inebriation. Dammit, there went his plans for the night. She seemed open and receptive, and he didn’t doubt he could be between her thighs in a short amount of time if he invited himself in, but it wouldn’t be right with her in this state. Instead, he pushed away from the doorjamb he’d leaned against with a sigh. “I just wanted to tell you good night.”
Her face fell. “That’s it? Are you sure don’t want to come in for a drink…or something?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t say no to a goodnight kiss,” he said in a thick whisper. His bear was chomping at the bit to pin her to the wall and take her, but he was trying to rein in the impulse. It was going to be hard enough just to confine it to a simple kiss, but he couldn’t imagine leaving without tasting those full, luscious lips.
She licked them as she leaned closer, wrapping her hands around the lapels of his leather jacket to drag him closer. He stepped forward to meet her, putting his arms around her soft frame and relishing having her so near him.
Her softness cuddled his hardness to perfection, and she was the perfect counterpart to him. He couldn’t have designed a more ideal female if he’d had a computer program in front of him with an unlimited amount of choices. His bear had known from the start, and holding her like this as his mouth touched hers reinforced the knowledge to the man. Grace was his mate, and eventually—no, soon—he would claim her as such.
Her lips were soft against his, and he started the kiss gently and with good intentions. When he would have stepped back, she whimpered and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Kingston pushed his tongue inside her mouth, anxious to taste every bit of her. His enhanced senses savored her flavor and her aroma, and he deepened the kiss further as his hands moved lower. Cupping her generous buttocks, he kneaded them gently as he lifted her against him, so the apex of her thighs cradled his hardened erection.
He groaned softly when she rubbed against him, teasing him with how it would be when there were no clothes separating them. He wanted to give up control, to surrender to his bear’s urge to take her now, but he remembered she wasn’t completely aware. Alcohol had robbed her of some level of inhibition, and it wouldn’t be right to use this current state against her. When she came to his bed, he wanted to make sure it was completely willing and with no ambiguity about choice or decisions. Because once he had her, he didn’t think he could ever let her go.
With that thought in mind, he pushed himself away from her, slowly disengaging by weakening the intensity of the kiss before unwrapping her arms around his body, guiding hers to her side as he stepped back. “Good night, Grace.”
She looked disgruntled, but didn’t argue as he stepped into the hallway and turned away from her. A glance back revealed she was touching her lips, her expression somewhere between dazed and annoyed, with a strong note of passion.
It was some consolation to know she would go to bed equally frustrated, though the alcohol would probably put her out much faster. He was not looking forward to the sleepless night ahead of him, and he doubted a quick jerk-off would be enough to allow him to sleep or clear his senses from the overload of having almost been intimate with his mate.
Sometimes, it sucked to do the right thing.
Chapter Four
The wedding was beautiful, and seeing Rafe and Breanna kiss so tenderly after their heartfelt exchange of vows caused a thick lump to form in her throat. Grace cleared it as she dabbed discreetly at her eyes with the lace handkerchief that was part of the bouquets, cleverly draping them to hide the ends of the flowers. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and she didn’t doubt the sincerity as they had traded words of love and commitment. She knew with absolute certainty that Breanna and Rafe would be together for life.
The thought sent her gaze skittering toward Kingston, and she wasn’t surprised to find him staring at her. Their gazes locked, and her heart rate accelerated as her panties dampened. Thanks to an excess of Jell-O shots and margaritas, she was a little hazy about last night, but she certainly remembered the intense kiss they had shared. If Kingston had pressed to come in last night, she would not only have opened the door wide with welcoming arms, she would have tossed him on the bed and climbed on top.
In the fresh light of sobriety…nothing had changed. She smiled soft softly at him, taking a moment to lick her lips in an exaggerated fashion before winking at him as Rafe and Breanna turned to meet their guests as Mr. and Mrs. Cabello.
A second later, her arm entwined with Kingston’s, and they walked down the aisle behind the happy couple. Most of the ceremony had passed in a blur, and the reception was the same way. She did all the things expected of her, including making a speech, but her thoughts were solely dedicated to Kingston, and determining a way to make sure tonight didn’t end with a panty-melting kiss but nothing else. She was due to fly home the day after tomorrow, so she wanted to take full advantage of the short time remaining to indulge in her casual fling.
A pang went to her at the thought of it being just a fling, and she tried to push away that reaction. She was trying something new here, attempting a physical relationship without letting her emotions get entangled—or at least too entangled. They were already slightly muddled, and she didn’t think she was imagining that he felt the same way.
That was no guarantee there would be anything more than sex between them, and she wanted to have realistic expectations. She wanted to look back on her brief time with Kingston with fondness and nostalgia, perhaps a bit of longing for it again, not with regret or a broken heart.
It seemed to take forever to get through the round of speeches, the dinner, and the dancing. Sh
e was happy for Breanna’s happiness, but she couldn’t wait for the beautiful wedding to end so she could approach Kingston.
Not that she hadn’t tried a few times during the reception. Every time she made the effort to get close to him, Ashley had been there to cock-block her. She didn’t know if cock-block was the correct term, since neither of them had cocks, but it was the same principle. There was something deeply disturbed about the chick, and she had made it her mission to keep Grace and Kingston apart.
With a start, she realized all the single women were gathering to catch the bouquet. That meant the reception was nearly over—or at least the part for which she had to stay. Once Rafe and Breanna slipped away to take his helicopter to their mountain cabin in the Coeur d’Alene Mountains for their honeymoon, she could also slip away, hopefully with Kingston beside her.
She joined the single ladies in the crowd, but not really making an effort to catch the bouquet. Apparently, Breanna had other ideas, because her friend made a production of putting a hand over her eyes before tossing the bouquet, but she moved her hand at the last minute and winked at Grace when she threw the bouquet directly at her.
It should have landed easily in her hands, but a sharp shove from the right sent her flying out of the way and careening across the room, where she landed with a sharp jarring thud against the marble floor. The collision knocked the wind out of her, and it took a moment to realize Ashley had physically shoved her out of the way to snatch the bouquet in midflight. Shocked silence greeted the other woman’s actions for a moment, even as she pirouetted with delight, crowing about her victory.