It was hard to focus on the road when he knew Callie was falling apart beside him. She wasn’t a drinker, as far as he knew. The trip, this mission she’d been handed, was difficult for her. Emmy and Addison had survived the change not because they were pushovers. Together, the two were a force to be feared.
Morgan could only sit back and watch the ideals Richard Stone had instilled in his daughter crumble under the fierce love of two female shifters. What would she do once she realized neither would budge. Would Callie leave him once more? He didn’t know how much more time he had to convince her that she could trust him.
His heart lurched, and he slapped the signal light, pulling onto the side of the road. He let out a breath, but before he could speak, Callie was reaching for the handle on her door.
“Whoa!” He jumped and grabbed her hand before she could open it. “I can’t have a drunk bear wandering the woods.”
“I’m not drunk anymore. Let me out before I punch you in the face.”
“I hate to tell you, but you wouldn’t be the first. Not even the first woman.”
Callie turned toward him, mouth agape.
Morgan laughed and shrugged. Still holding onto the door, he was close to Callie. She seemed to realize it the same moment he did. He bit the inside of his cheek and pushed back the fierce desire that ripped through him.
Nine years.
He shoved himself back into his seat. Wrapping his fingers around the steering wheel kept him from pulling her into his lap. His mate. The only woman he’d thought about for nearly a decade.
“What you’re doing to me isn’t fair.”
She scoffed. “What I’m doing isn’t fair? Me? I’m the bad guy?”
His knuckles flashed white before he wrangled control of himself. The beast wanted to quiet her with his mouth again. If he could convince her with his body, then everything would be alright again. It was flawed logic, clearly.
Callie wasn’t going to see him as he was. She was going to keep hiding behind that veil of lies she clung to.
“Yes! I’ve known you were my mate for years. But, then you threw me away and I was left with nothing.”
Her lips curled. The beast thought they knew how to soften those lips, but Morgan managed to keep the beast back.
“If anyone threw anything away, it was you.” Callie flung off her seatbelt and shoved her door open. She was out of the truck before Morgan could react.
He leapt out after her, slamming the truck door. If she would just talk to him, then he might be able to fix whatever happened. He couldn’t fix anything until then and it drove him wild. He was left useless. The thing he wanted more than anything in the world was just out of reach for reasons he didn’t understand.
It had been easier before she arrived. He could ignore the aching in his chest when the crunch of falling trees filled his ears or a machine rumbled beneath his hands. Now, he couldn’t smell the sawdust anymore. His nose was filled with her. It drove his beast to the edge of madness.
The trees were raining leaves all around them. Flashes of gold fluttered on the wind as he followed Callie between the thin trees. She glanced over her shoulder and scowled at him while he followed her.
“I’m not letting you walk through the mountains while you’re drunk.”
“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I’m not drunk anymore!”
He believed her, but he wanted to stay by her side. There could be more bear traps from the hunter that had stalked Reid. There could be actual bears, though he was sure the animals had left the area when his crew moved in. Morgan only wanted to make sure his mate was safe.
She spun on him, hair whirling in the air and a look of fire in her eyes. “Leave.”
“Why? Because you can’t stand the sight of your mate?”
“You aren’t my mate!” She threw her hands in the air.
He didn’t understand why she fought the truth so hard. If she could see how he felt, if she could find the echo of it inside herself, then she would know he would never do anything to hurt her.
***
While Callie acted like she was moments from punching his lights out, the truth was that her core burned with a need she hadn’t felt in years. It was a furnace that threatened to burn her up from the inside out. She needed to bank the fire before it destroyed her, but she didn’t know how.
The only thing she could think of was giving in to it. Giving in would go against everything she’d told herself, the strength that she’d earned after he hurt her.
Morgan didn’t move. He remained, steadfast and determined. It only served to pull her closer. Her feet inched toward him. She fisted her hands at her side, not in preparation of a fight, but to keep from reaching out and pulling Morgan into her.
She wanted to know what his body felt like, how his new job had shaped him. Were there more scars to be found? Tattoos? Pleasure like she could never imagine?
The beast in her panted. It pushed and begged.
“If you were my mate, you never would have…”
She didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence. His lips descended upon hers. He held the sides of her face, rough thumbs caressing her cheeks. All the fight bled from her. The furnace flared, and she reached for him in return, gripping the sides of his jacket if only to keep from touching him in earnest.
They stumbled together until her back hit a tree. He ripped at her clothing, tearing it from her shoulders. It fell to the ground, forgotten while they grabbed at one another. She reached for his waist and let her hands explore the vast smoothness of it. Her fingertips tumbled over his ribs, his muscles.
Morgan groaned in her mouth. It was a sound she remembered. It brought her back to the days when they’d been young and in love. The world had been theirs. Nothing could have stopped them.
Until they’d been stopped.
The heat inside her burned the thought away. It was nothing more than ash when she parted her lips and his tongue slipped into her mouth. All Callie knew was the press of his hands against her body and the sweep of his tongue against hers.
Soon, more clothing fell away. His jacket crashed to the ground, followed by the ripping sound of his shirt when she tore it away to find more of his golden skin. She broke the kiss only to taste his skin. It was smooth and sweet under her tongue. He tightened his grip on her, back arching and his head falling back.
Callie grinned. She should have hated him, should have pushed him away. Instead, she decided to torment him. It was the best revenge she could think of. Her tongue caressed the small hollow between his collarbones, and he shuddered. His fingers curled and nails bit into her skin.
She spun and pushed him back against the tree. He hit the bark with a lazy smile and glazed eyes. His breath was ragged, but she could make it so much worse.
Callie didn’t want to admit that in her plot of revenge, she was enjoying herself. Her lips trailed down his chest and her fingers grazed the bulge in his jeans, her heart racing all the while. She dragged her nails over his trapped cock, and he groaned. When he reached for her. She shoved his hands back and bit the soft flesh of his neck.
Just as Callie was about to walk away, his hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss that made her head spin. It was like she was drunk all over again. It made her cling to him. The world fell away until it was just the two of them.
Was this what it was like to touch one’s mate? She hoped it wasn’t. This was only years of pent up frustration. It was clear neither had slept with anyone else in the years they’d spent apart. The thought sent a sliver of worry through her. It raced down her spine only to be melted by the unbearable heat in her core.
“You could have this every day if you chose to stay.” His voice was a whisper, nothing more than warm breath over her cold skin. Yet, it did the work of a bucket of ice.
She stumbled back and lurched for her coat on the ground.
“Callie!” Morgan shouted her name, more than once.
But, she didn’t lo
ok back. In fact, she kept her eyes on the silver gleam of Dom’s truck ahead. Morgan had left the keys in the ignition, a big mistake on his part. She turned the key and shifted into drive.
Morgan screamed after her, jogging up the road with his waistband in his hands. She grinned and laughed in the truck by herself. Morgan had almost won, but she’d remembered herself and managed to get revenge after all.
Chapter Eight
Morgan cursed.
He buckled his jeans and went back to retrieve his jacket from the woods. His shirt was in tatters, so he left it behind. By the time he reached the road again, a truck had pulled up. Boomer leaned out the window, grinning like an idiot.
How the wild man ever caught Emmy’s attention, Morgan would never know. He feared it had been like imprinting. Boomer’s mug had been the first thing Emmy saw when she woke, so of course she fixated on him.
“Looks like you got humped and dumped, my cousin.”
Morgan kicked Boomer’s truck, leaving a dent in the side of it.
“I’m not going to finish you off, but I’ll give you a ride home if you want. That homewrecker of yours really is a spitfire.”
“I hate you.”
Boomer laughed. “I love you, too, cousin.”
Callie wasn’t a homewrecker. His mate had been brainwashed by her father. The longer Morgan could get her to stay, the more she could see. While he and his small pack of idiot shifters weren’t the best representation of life outside the Den, Morgan didn’t think there was a better group of people. All of them had lived through life’s messiest moments and gotten through in one piece.
His mate could survive hers, too.
All he had to do was stay patient. He wasn’t sure the throbbing cock in his pants knew what patience meant. Thankfully, it receded by the time Boomer pulled up to the cabin. He jumped out, glad to see that Dom’s truck was parked in the driveway.
Boomer leaned out of his truck and bellowed at Morgan. “You owe me for the dent in my truck!”
Morgan only held up a middle finger while he walked toward the door. Behind him, Boomer’s laughter echoed in the air, only drowned out by the roar of his truck.
When he threw open the door, heads perked up. Dom narrowed his gaze, an unspoken accusation. Morgan had let someone steal Dom’s truck. Aimee, on the other hand, bit back her laughter. Morgan felt her gaze drop to his crotch, almost knowingly.
“Where’s your shirt?” Aimee asked. The smile on her face said she knew exactly where it was. She just wanted to poke fun at him.
“At least I know where my truck is,” Dom grumbled.
“Why are the two of you sitting on opposite sides of the room?” Morgan threw the words into the room and watched the shifters steal looks at one another before quickly looking away.
Aimee gathered her things and slipped away without further explanation.
“What happened between you two?” Morgan grumbled, though he was curious.
“I, ah, don’t actually know.” Dom was fixated on the doorway Aimee left through. His brows folded together, an expression usually saved for when one of the other shifters did something Dom couldn’t understand. Finally, he shook his head and jerked his chin toward the stairs. “Your woman is in the bathroom.”
Morgan nodded and climbed the stairs two at a time, a fight poised on his tongue. When he flung the door open, Callie was submerged beneath a layer of water and pearly bubbles. She shrieked, rushing to cover the breasts he couldn’t see to begin with.
He grinned, wagging his brows.
“Get out,” she demanded.
“Or what? Are you going to leave the tub and force me out of the room?”
Callie mumbled something under her breath before sinking further into the bubbles. Her hair was wet, slicked back from her face. He sobered when he realized her eyes were red from tears. Everything Callie knew was being challenged and here he was, tormenting her while she sought a few minutes alone.
He remembered his mate. If left alone, her thoughts would drive her crazy. So, he dropped to the floor beside the tub. She splashed him, but he didn’t move.
Just being in her presence silenced the beast inside him. He wondered if this was how Boomer or Reid felt around their mates. He played with a spot of water on the floor while he wondered if it had been immediate, or something that happened over time. He and Callie had a lot of time, but very little of it had been spent together.
“I missed you,” Morgan whispered. “Even though I figured you hated me and that you’d be happy if you never saw me again, I spent every day hoping I’d get another glimpse of you.”
But he had. Morgan had not only gotten to see his mate but stolen another taste of her. He would try to memorize the flavor, the feel of her in his hands, because he knew she would run back to the Den soon. Callie would never stay with him.
He told himself it was okay, but it wasn’t. His voice twisted in his throat. He could have screamed. He could have begged. Instead, he sat quietly on the floor of the bathroom, waiting for his mate to say something.
The only sound between them was the slow popping of soap bubbles.
“I’m going to call Dad tomorrow and tell him I can’t convince Emmy to come with me. He will book my ticket home and…” Her voice trailed off.
Morgan turned to see her face. He found her staring at him, confusion and anger warring for dominance. It was the same expression she wore the first time Emmy confronted her beliefs. Morgan could only hope that Emmy had shaken Callie’s common sense loose. Eventually, she sighed and sank deeper into the bubbles. Any further, and she would be submerged completely.
Morgan laughed at her. “You aren’t an aquatic shifter. You can’t breathe down there.”
He reached and carved away the bubbles hiding her face. Her beast flashed in her eyes. It was there and then gone, but Morgan thought he saw a fraction of happiness. The bear in Callie knew the truth. It was only Callie’s human mind that needed convincing. But first, he had to work through whatever it was that had fractured them in the first place.
Morgan smirked. His jacket fell to the floor, followed by his jeans. Callie cried out, but before she could stop him, Morgan already had one foot in the tub.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m taking a bath.” He slowly lowered himself into the water.
The tub was big, but not big enough that he could enter without touching her. He wedged himself beneath Callie, spreading his legs so that hers rested between his. She glowered from the other end of the tub.
He wanted to reach forward and rub her feet, to find any reason to touch her. It had been too long, and his beast demanded physical touch. It wanted to know that Callie was still there. He forced himself to put his hands on the edge of the tub, fingers curling as he fought back the intense need. This had been a bad idea.
Already, his cock was rising with expectations that Morgan should have shoved away. Callie wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if she ever would be.
A sound slipped up his throat. While he growled, he held her gaze.
Chapter Nine
Callie couldn’t believe his audacity. Morgan carelessly climbed into the bathtub with her, not bothering to sit on his own side. Instead, he’d spread out so that she had to touch him. Callie knew she should have gotten out. She should have stormed from the room.
Instead, she was a stone. She couldn’t find the strength of will to lift herself and exit. The feeling of his body pressed against hers was addicting. Over and over, she fell for it. The need of her body overwhelmed the resistances she tried to put into place.
She put her head against the side of the tub in an attempt to focus. It was wet and soapy from Morgan’s splashy entrance, but she didn’t care. They sat like this, staring at one another in silence. Her foot brushed his balls. She tried to play it off like an accident, but it hadn’t been. She couldn’t resist him when he was this close.
She fit into Morgan’s broad frame with ease
, even in this position. It was as if their bodies had been made for one another, molded at the same time by the same hands. As much as she wanted to disagree and smash the thought to bits, Callie also couldn’t deny the way her skin felt when it was pressed against his.
The more of her body that touched his, the more her lungs relaxed. Tension bled away until she nearly melted into Morgan. He would have caught her with open arms, too. It was a fact that had always stood between them. It had bound them, no matter how Callie tried to look in the other direction.
The kiss on the Ferris wheel replayed in her mind. The need she’d felt on that bench seat slammed into her, as if it’d never gone away at all. Her desire in the woods had been slightly more tempered. There had been a control about it, a need to turn it against Morgan, that had kept her from falling for his charms.
Callie wondered if it was so bad to fall for him again. Not whole-heartedly. No, her heart would remain protected, encased behind extra barriers. She would do it just for the chance to touch him again. She brushed his cock and felt the water ripple when he startled. Callie knew she would enjoy it inside her.
She groaned and pressed her head against the rim of the tub. It was all a ruse by her beast. The creature had pushed the thought into her mind, led her toward the naked man across from them. Callie knew the truth. If she slept with Morgan again, she would forget her anger. It would open her to being hurt all over again.
Callie wasn’t weak. She pushed up, her limbs heavy from the water. Morgan tracked her as she stepped out of the tub. His eyes remained on her, caressing her bare skin.
It was the touch her body longed for, one she wished she could have given in to. It wasn’t smart. Her heart couldn’t take his betrayal again. Morgan was embedded so deep inside her, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. He could be not just her first lover, but her mate.
Even if that was the truth, it didn’t erase what he’d done. It only made things more complicated.
To Trust A Bear Page 6