A Shifter for Christmas

by T. S. Joyce

  Kieran leaned his head back against the wall and looked down his nose at her. “I needed money to pay my property taxes here. It’s a big house and a lot of land, and the property taxes are hard for me every year. I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, Leslie. I was supposed to show a stranger a good time for the holidays, collect my check, and move on without you ever finding out what I really was.”

  She offered him a lopsided smile and wiped her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket. “I’ve been researching otters. I made you an otter ornament for Christmas and ordered you some sea urchins from the pet store.”

  His stoic face changed in an instant into a laugh.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s kind of funny.”

  “No, it’s not!” She was trying very hard to keep a straight face.

  “It’s a very sweet Christmas present.”

  “Yeah? Well, now you’re getting coal.”

  “Stay with me,” he said suddenly.

  “W-what?”

  “I hate seeing those tears on your face and knowing they’re my fault. I want your happiness over mine, and I think that’s how this is supposed to be.”

  “How what is supposed to be?”

  Eyes on her, he murmured, “You know.”

  Love.

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Turning you?”

  Leslie nodded.

  He was honest with her. “Yes. I have to hurt you to Turn you. But it’ll hurt me worse to do it.”

  “You have to bite me?” she asked.

  “I have to kill the human in you.”

  Her face crumpled again, and she drew her knees up to her chest, buried her chin in her crossed arms. “But I’ll be all right?”

  He nodded. “I’ll make sure of it. It’s a big gift to give a man, though, Leslie—your humanity. That’s a big ask. I want you to think about it and take your time to make the decision.”

  “Is it always like this? Fast?”

  “For me?” He smiled. “My animal liked you from the moment he saw your tie-dyed leggings and wild hair.”

  She giggled. “I have a mane.”

  “Tell you what. Let’s get through the holidays. I’ll be here. Won’t leave you or get scared off anymore—I’ll just be behind you. Your teammate. Let’s make this a season to remember and deal with the shifter shit afterward. Okay? No more tears.”

  “Your lion is humongous.”

  “Yeah, well, you should see him when he’s pissed. When I say you’re safe? Woman, you’re absolutely safe. You’ve had a monster behind you this whole time, ready to start a war if someone crossed a line with you. He’s been a little hard to control lately. I’m protective of you.”

  She liked that. Liked that she had this secret badass monster watching out for her.

  “Do we have time? For me to consider everything?” Her mind was racing a million miles a minute. “Who else knows what you are?”

  “Your dad figured it out.”

  “Shit!” she cursed, scooching closer to him.

  He grinned and leaned forward, grabbed her ankles and dragged her across the floor toward him until her bent legs were settled between his. “He actually kind of gave us his blessing.”

  “What in the actual hell is this word combination you just formed with your mouth hole?”

  Kieran snorted. “He brought cute pictures of us from the party and told me to go all in or all out with you.”

  “Huh.” Everything was weird.

  “It’s easy to figure out what I am if someone wants to,” he murmured seriously. “Lions have to be registered as lion shifters from birth, or from the day of Turning. I’m in the system. It’s an easy internet search.”

  “My mom will definitely Google you.”

  “Yep.”

  And Mom would definitely expose him if it got Kieran away from Leslie.

  “I can’t marry Gregory Potts.”

  “Who is Gregory Potts?”

  Leslie slid her hands up his strong arms. “The man my mother thinks deserves my hand.”

  “Hmm. Want me to kill him?”

  “Ha! I would think you were joking if I hadn’t just witnessed firsthand you turn into a motherfuckin’ lion. A lion, Kieran. With claws and teeth. I’m not siccing you on Mr. Potts.”

  “It’s going to be okay.” He’d said it fast. Out of the blue. He brushed his hooked finger under her chin and said, “You were built tough, Leslie. This is a lot, but it’s not too much for a woman like you.” And then he said it again. “Everything will be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

  And she believed him.

  She believed in him.

  He wasn’t hiding anymore. He’d exposed his deep secret, let her into his home, let her meet his brother. Let her meet the monster he kept carefully tucked inside of him.

  He’d let her in.

  She couldn’t ask for any more from a man. She couldn’t ask for perfection. She wasn’t perfect either, but with him, she felt valued. And she wanted him to feel the same.

  “Your lion is okay.”

  He searched her eyes, the gold in his irises glowing. They filled with a deep emotion that punched a hole in her gut before he dropped his gaze.

  Had anyone ever told him that before?

  “Hey,” she whispered, cupping his face now to bring his gaze back to hers. “He’s okay.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  December 23

  She was doing it.

  Right now, Leslie was supposed to be meeting her family at the community center for this year’s production of A Christmas Story, but she was working late in her pottery shop instead.

  She’d told them she didn’t want to do any more Christmas traditions with them this year, and she was content with that decision.

  She’d just put the shipping labels on all the pottery that was supposed to be mailed out last-minute, but now she was just standing beside the kiln, staring at the otter ornament she’d made Kieran for his Christmas present.

  He wasn’t an otter.

  That wasn’t his life or hers. It would’ve been simpler that way. Steadier. Easier to sell to her family, but that wasn’t to be her story.

  She clutched the little ornament in her hands and stared at a sign she’d pinned to the wall over the kiln three years ago when she’d rented this space.

  Never settle.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but on a whim, she threw the little otter onto the ground, and it shattered. She stomped on it, crushing it into oblivion and then, tears in her eyes, she made her way to the huge plastic bin that held her clay.

  She took a handful out and slapped it onto the table. Leslie had to get the air bubbles out so it wouldn’t explode in the kiln. And while she prepped the clay, the shape took form in her mind, and she let her fingers do the work.

  Chapter Sixteen

  December 24

  Leslie knocked softly. It was still dark outside, and he might be asleep. She settled the little Christmas tree she’d bought him in front of her.

  She hadn’t seen him yesterday because he’d been doing a ton of tree shipments until late at night, plus she’d had to work late at her shop, but they’d texted all day.

  Still, when he opened the door and saw her smiling face, Leslie felt like she hadn’t seen him in weeks.

  God, he was handsome. His hair was mussed from sleep, his eyes dark, his shirt off. He wasn’t self-conscious as she scanned his scarred torso to his low-slung gray sweatpants.

  She’d worn her hair down today, in all of her curly glory, and she wore bright red lipstick to match the tiny ornaments on the little Christmas tree she held clutched in her mitten-covered hands.

  “Hey, wildling. What are you doing up so early?” he asked, pulling her in against his chest. He just hugged her.

  “Are you purring?” she asked, hugging him as tight as she could without crushing the little tree.

  “Maybe. Is that tree for me?”

  “Yes! I have a propo
sal!” She eased out of his arms and squared her shoulders. “Kieran Dunne…” She scrunched up her face. “Will you spend Christmas Eve with me?”

  “You’re still out on your family’s Christmas traditions?” he asked.

  “I’m happier being less stressed.”

  He looked at the tiny tree in her hands and then back up to her face. “Are you working today?”

  “No. But you are. I texted my dad and asked what your schedule is this morning.”

  “It’s national bring-your-girlfriend-to-work-on-Christmas-Eve day,” he murmured.

  “Really?” she yelled.

  He hunched and covered his ears.

  She would have to learn volume control when she was excited. “You said girlfriend and not pretend-girlfriend,” she told him as she made her way inside. “I brought you this tree for your desk today. I named him Bernard.”

  “The tree?”

  “Yes!”

  Okay, his hoarse, sleepy laugh was so dang cute.

  “I get to go in late today,” he told her. “I was sleeping in.”

  “Oh, okay. Shhhh,” she said softly. “This is all a dream, go back to sleep.”

  Kieran took the tree from her hands and put it on the counter, then unzipped her jacket and pushed it off her shoulders and onto the floor.

  Holy moly, okay.

  He leaned in and kissed her. He tasted like mint toothpaste, and his skin was so warm under her hands after the cold drive here.

  He peeled her sweater over her head, and oh my gosh, this is happening.

  He grinned at her sparkly red bra.

  “I got it at a Christmas sale,” she whispered. “My panties match.”

  The growl in his throat was loud as he leaned into her and scooped her up, dragging her legs around his hips. He walked her backward, kissing her.

  She held on tight as he nipped at her bottom lip and kissed down her jaw to her neck. She yelped when he tossed her onto the bed, but the landing was soft in his comfortable mattress. It was dark, the only illumination from the hallway light. He snarled as he unbuttoned her jeans and yanked them down her legs.

  In her Christmas lingerie, she wrapped her legs around him as he lowered down and settled between her thighs. His lips moved against hers while he explored her curves with his strong hands. Every touch built an inferno inside of her.

  It was so easy to feel his thick erection behind his sweatpants as he rolled his hips against her.

  “Kieran,” she whispered mindlessly.

  “You want me to stop?” he asked in that gritty, deep voice.

  “No.”

  His smile was from the devil, and then Kieran leaned in and kissed her again, harder this time. Every nerve ending was sparking with his touch, and when he gripped her hip, she arched her back against the mattress and told him, “I want to feel your skin.”

  He knew what she meant. Kieran reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, yanked the bra from her arms, and tossed it to the floor, and then he raised up onto his locked arms.

  His vibrant eyes went to her breasts, and the smile on his face was there again. “Those are mine.”

  Her heart was so loud here in the darkness. Even her, with her dull human senses, could hear it. “Yours,” she said on a breath.

  Riiiiiip. Her panties were stripped off in tatters and thrown on the ground with her bra, and then his dick was right there, rubbing against her sex. There was still fabric between them so, desperately, she reached down and pushed his sweats past his thighs.

  Every move they made was like a dance. It was as if they already knew each other’s bodies. Leslie spread her knees better to give him more access, and he settled between her inner thighs. The head of his cock slipped into her, and she arched her back against the bed. “Oh, my God, yes,” she uttered.

  The growl was steady in his chest as he pushed into her, eased out, pushed in again.

  Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing.

  He was so powerful, so capable, so confident with her body. Every touch of his hand, every kiss of his lips, every grab, every massage, every sigh and groan—she melted for him.

  Her orgasm built fast and exploded through her. She cried out his name, but his body was so tense. So strong. He flipped her over and settled her on her hands and knees, gripped her around the waist, and shoved his cock into her from behind.

  She was still coming, and this was a new layer of ecstasy that her body responded to. He was an animal behind her, pumping into her, filling her, faster, harder until she had to grip the headboard to stay steady.

  “Fuck, Leslie. Fuck!” He slammed into her and gripped her hand on the headboard. His teeth grazed the tender skin at her neck, but he didn’t bite hard, and it only felt good.

  He thrust into her hard and paused with a yell, spilling his warmth inside her in short, powerful bursts.

  Their panting breaths matched as they moved slowly together, dragging out their orgasms.

  Kieran eased her down onto the bed and pulled her against his chest. And now she knew he was purring. She could hear it and feel it vibrating against her breasts.

  He ran his fingers through her curly hair and kissed her forehead. Stroke, stroke, kiss.

  She was hypnotized by thy way he coveted her. The way he was with her after they coupled was just as sexy and important. He made her feel adored and appreciated. He pressed kisses to her cheeks, nose, her throat, forehead, the top of her head. And then he always came back to her lips.

  Her body was humming.

  “Leslie?” he murmured.

  “Mmm?”

  “Good luck escaping me now.”

  She smiled in the dark and dragged her fingernails gently down his scarred back. “I’m not running.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  December 25

  The smell woke her up.

  Leslie sat up in Kieran’s bed and frowned. Was that…was that turkey cooking?

  She loved turkey.

  Maybe she was dreaming. Leslie kicked out of the covers and searched the room, but Kieran was definitely not in here.

  Clad in his gray oversize T-shirt, she crossed her arms over her bouncing boobs and made her way into the kitchen. What she saw there stunned her.

  Kieran, Burke, her dad, and Braden were in the kitchen. Cooking.

  Oh, good, she’d lost her mind.

  “Hey, peanut,” Dad said, using the nickname he used to call her when she was a kid.

  “H-hi, Dad.” The room looked different so she scanned it quick. The stockings on the hearth were full of goodies, and the tree was surrounded by presents. “Ummm, whatthefuckishappening?” she rattled out.

  “This Christmas is going to be a little different,” Kieran assured her. “We’re having it over here.”

  “What?” she asked. 8 am wasn’t the time for this level of emotion.

  “Kieran came and talked to me and your mother the other day while you were working.” Dad’s bushy gray brows drew down. “Now, I don’t know if your mom will show up, but me and Braden did, and hopefully that’s enough.”

  “Enough for what, Dad?”

  “To bring your holiday spirit back.”

  She looked from face to face before landing on Kieran. “You talked to my mom?”

  “Yeah, she was super excited when I explained how awesome I think you are and the plans I have for us.”

  Leslie giggled loud and said, “I’m sure she was. She loves being told what’s going to happen if she’s not part of the plans.”

  “She’s having a difficult time with change,” Dad concurred.

  “Are you drinking beer at eight in the morning?” she asked the boys, who were definitely holding Coors in their hands.

  Dad looked down at his bottle in a confused manner. “No one was here to tell us not to.”

  The room filled with slow-building laughter, and okay. Okay. Turkey lunch for Christmas with Dad, her sister’s husband, Burke, and most importantly…Kieran.

  It might be a strang
e Christmas, but it was a good one.

  She made her way to Kieran, and he gripped the side of her sleep shirt as he kissed her. “Go get dressed. I can cook you a dozen turkeys, but I have no fucking clue how to make green bean casserole, and your dad said it’s your favorite.”

  “Oh, I’ll eat the whole thing and not share a bite. Don’t judge me.”

  “No judgement.” He held up his hands. “I’ve seen you on a cheese ball. I’m not messing with your food.”

  She gripped his sweater and pushed up on her tiptoes, kissed him quick. “Thank you.” She looked at her dad and Braden and Burke, then back to Kieran. “Seriously. You’re giving me everything.”

  “No matter what, today will be a good day.”

  Her face stretched with a smile. “It will. I’m with you.”

  His grin before she walked back into the bedroom filled her heart. No matter what, everything was going to be okay today. That’s what Kieran did. He was a fixer, and he would make sure today was amazing.

  Her outfit would not have been approved by her mother for a Christmas meal. Green tie-dye leggings, or “eatin’ pants” as Leslie called them, were strictly forbidden from Wilson Family formal dinners. But here, in Kieran’s home, she wore them with an ugly Christmas sweater with a light-up Christmas tree across her teets. Kieran couldn’t seem to stop grabbing her ass as she walked by. The man liked leggings, thank baby Jesus in a manger.

  And when the doorbell rang at fifteen minutes to twelve, Leslie answered it and grinned at her sisters, who had shown up with gag gifts. Now, if they were trying to be funny with their cheap bottles of tequila host-gifts and ugly Christmas sweater outfits, they were in the right house. She hugged them. God, when was the last time she’d hugged her sisters?

  Inside, Dad was pushing together every table Kieran owned and two folding tables he’d brought. The boys were setting food on the table, and it looked like a feast. Her other two brothers-in-law filtered in, her young nieces and nephews, and a couple cousins. Leslie was utterly shocked, but nothing had stunned her more in her lifetime than when she answered the door, and Mom stood there on the porch. She was dressed to the nines in a formal gown, her hair done, nails on point. She wore movie star sunglasses, even though the day was gray and overcast and a light snow had begun to fall.