by Anya Nowlan
Deirdre had mostly stayed on the straight and narrow in her life, save for a couple of barhopping years, so his stories let her vicariously experience the wild side. She had been sure her blabbing on about her favorite books and movies and how she did her best to make her first shoebox of an apartment cute would bore Dean out of his skull, but he had at least looked thoroughly fascinated when she spoke.
Not like that one guy before Shawn who kept checking his phone in the middle of dinner.
“You want beer or… beer?” Dean asked, emerging from the kitchen with two bottles in his hands.
“Beer is fine, thanks,” she replied, watching him move across the room with the silent grace of a predator.
The whole thing about him being a bear made near-perfect sense now that she’d had time to digest it a little.
Sitting down opposite her, Dean fixed her with his smoldering gaze, sliding the bottle over to her. She should have been running for the hills by now, not staying for a drink, but she couldn’t make herself leave no matter how hard she tried.
After Shawn, she had shut herself off from dating and romance. Looking back, it was almost as if she was punishing herself for how she had misjudged him and on some level, herself. She had rushed into things and gotten her heart broken, so feeling like she didn’t deserve another chance at love came naturally.
But now, especially considering how short life really was, she was learning to accept that it was okay to make the occasional mistake. Having always been a perfectionist and expecting the best of herself, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.
It seemed Dean’s carefree approach to life was already somewhat rubbing off on her.
I don’t have to take everything so seriously, she reminded herself, watching Dean’s muscles move under his shirt. It’s okay to have a little fun once in a while.
Looking around, she felt more at home here than at the bed & breakfast. The small fireplace was crackling softly behind her, spreading warmth through the cottage. The chairs around the well-loved dining table were worn but sturdy, speaking of a time when things were made to last.
The rooms were a little sparse, but very clean and tidy. The smell of wood wafted from every pore of the house, reminding her of a cabin she’d stayed at on a ski trip she took with her girlfriends once. It was, in a word, cozy.
“Did you clean up for me or are you always this neat?” she asked, letting her gaze sweep around the room.
“Well, there’s nothing like a couple of years in the Marine Corps to teach you order,” Dean shrugged, sipping his beer.
The Marine Corps? He is just full of surprises.
“You were a Marine? How did that slip by in all of your stories?” she said with a small laugh, before wrapping her lips around the cool glass of the bottle in her hand.
“Let’s just say the Armed Forces and I didn’t part on the best of terms,” he replied cryptically, shoulders tensing a bit.
Getting the feeling he didn’t want to get into it, Deirdre changed the subject.
File that one away for later.
“What’s it like being a shifter?” she blurted, the curiosity inside her spilling out. “You’ve told me a lot about the differences and similarities between shifters and humans, but what does it feel like, being who you are?”
“It’s hard to explain…” he started, brow furrowing.
She could almost see a lightbulb go off above his head as he suddenly grinned at her, a bit of a challenge in his voice when he spoke.
“How about a demonstration?”
Twelve
Oliver
This is it.
After they had made sure Hope was still sound asleep, Oliver took Deirdre’s hand and led her outside. The air between them became charged as soon as their skin touched, adding to the insane pull Oliver had been feeling all night.
He had tried to keep from straight-up staring at her, but he wasn’t sure if he had actually succeeded or not. The dress she was wearing was very distracting. Like a second skin around her ample curves, it showed off her full hips and the swell of her breasts without actually exposing anything. It was enough to drive him mad.
It wasn’t just that, of course. He’d never felt this kind of urge for someone, true, but the guiding force here was the fact that he wanted to share. He wanted to show her who he was, both the predictable and the unpredictable sides of him.
Light from inside the cottage spilled out to illuminate their way as they stepped into the night air. Deirdre’s eyes were glimmering with excitement when he turned to face her.
“You’re going to change? Right now?” she asked, looking him up and down.
“It’s not that big of a deal. Shifting is as normal to me as sneezing, even though it may look a lot more complex than that,” he explained, still holding on to her hand.
It was odd trying to describe something so integral to him yet so alien to her. But it also felt good, having her so interested in what made him, well… him. Being a shifter wasn’t all there was to him, but it was a big part of his nature.
“There is no pain involved. This is what my body is meant to do. So don’t worry when you start to see me bend and morph, it’s all part of the process. It can look a little scary the first few times you see it, though. And it’s never quite the same either.”
“Does the bear just take over or to you have to coax it out?” Deirdre asked, her heart starting to beat faster.
He could hear it and it was the sweetest music to his ears.
“The bear is always a part of me. There is no one without the other. I can feel it inside me, always, connecting me to my primal side. Everyone has a wildness in them, shifters are just better connected with theirs.
“You have to be in tune with your animal, embrace it, or you could end up stifling your nature. And that’s never good.”
Personally, Oliver had known a few shifters who had gone too far in the other direction, letting their animal control them almost completely in everything. That side of the equation however was far more gruesome and best left for a later discovery.
For now, he wanted to show Deirdre the good… and allow it to hint at the bad without him having to spell it out.
“I guess we all have sides to ourselves we’d do well to explore further,” she said, looking lost in thought for a moment. “Thank you for sharing all this with me. I really appreciate your candor.”
Oliver plastered on a smile, feeling like the worst fraud in the world. Here was this amazing woman, praising him for his honesty, while she didn’t even know his real name. He had tried to steer the conversation towards a confession during dinner, but then they got so caught up in getting to know each other, he couldn’t bear to ruin the evening.
That seemed to be happening a lot around Deirdre.
Spending as much time alone as he had, opening up to people didn’t come naturally to him. But talking to Deirdre was as easy as breathing. All she had to do was smile and he would be putty in her hands, telling her whatever she wanted to know.
“No problem. Now, you better take a step back. I’m going to need some space. Enjoy the show,” he said with a wink, enjoying the slight blush it drew from Deirdre.
Rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he could feel his bear rising closer to the surface. A growl was building in his throat, the sights and scents around him growing even clearer as his form began to ripple and twist.
The bear was as excited to be around Deirdre as Oliver himself was.
Falling on all fours, he let the shift wash over him, molding his body into a new shape. It was entirely familiar to him, but probably a pretty memorable thing to observe for Deirdre. She would have to get used to it sooner or later, being Hope’s mother.
Even though the changes to his body were immense, it only took a moment for Oliver to transform into a hulking grizzly, padding around in front of the cabin. He felt heavier, and maybe a bit more on edge, but he was still in control, even though now it was more of a convers
ation with the bear, rather than a monologue. Shaking his lustrous brown coat, he moved closer to Deirdre, careful not to frighten her. His paws thudded softly on the damp ground, a small rumble echoing in his chest.
Mine, the word reverberated through him when he looked up at Deirdre, studying him with wide eyes.
“Dean?” she asked, taking a tentative step towards him.
He nodded as best he could before sitting down and letting her take it all in. She circled around him, carefully running her fingers over his fur. Her every movement spoke of wonderment and awe. When she stopped in front of him, he could see she was smiling from ear to ear.
“This is so cool,” she whispered to herself, reaching out to tickle one of his ears.
Leaning forward, he gently nudged her with his wet nose, exhaling with a low grumble.
“Okay, I get it. No tickling,” Deirdre giggled, brushing the shoulder he had touched.
Oliver let her look and touch as much as she wanted before pulling the bear back and reversing the shift. He stood on his back legs, letting out a roar that startled Deirdre, making her back away a tiny bit before the change took over him. With muscles contracting and folding, he felt his animal fall away. His skin felt tight for a moment as his muzzle was forced back and his claws retracted, but all in all, the process required little effort.
Blinking at him, Deirdre had backed up near the front door, clutching her hands together in childlike delight.
“You were so big!” she exclaimed, making his bear stir proudly beneath his skin. “And I know it sounds weird, but it still kind of looked like you,” she added, brow furrowing slightly.
She looked like she was barely restraining herself from running over to him. He wished she didn’t show that kind of self-control. He knew he wasn’t going to. Even a few feet of distance was too much between them.
“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not,” he laughed, walking over to her.
The air was quiet around them, far away from town and the nearest cabin. He could still hear the fire burning inside, but Deirdre probably couldn’t. She shivered slightly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.
“To think, just a moment ago…” she muttered to herself, running her flat palm down his bicep.
I should be telling her the truth right now, the thought flitted through his mind.
But standing so close to her, having her touch him like that, it wiped all logic from his brain. Warm and tough, bold yet cautious, not to mention sexy as hell, Deirdre had already consumed his thoughts to the point he could think of little else other than her.
Suddenly pulling her hand back, she glanced up at him shyly, bouncing on her feet.
“Sorry,” she whispered, biting her lip.
“For touching me? You don’t have to be sorry for that,” he replied, stepping even closer so he towered over her.
The tension between them took on a life of its own. With mere inches between them, Oliver could already imagine what she tasted like, how soft those full lips would be, pressed against his. The blood rushing through her veins was audible, only spurring on the desire bubbling inside him.
Deirdre’s breath hitched as he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close until their bodies were molded together. His cock was straining against his jeans, with thoughts of that dress of hers on his bedroom floor filling his mind.
“In fact, let me show you something else you shouldn’t be sorry for,” he murmured, leaning into her.
There’s no turning back now, he thought, drawing her into a hungry kiss that melted all his reservations right along with hers.
Thirteen
Deirdre
Deirdre seemed to soften under Dean’s touch, feeling her knees grow week as he held her tight. They were still outside, with the wind starting to howl around them, but all she could feel was warmth turning her insides turning into goo.
This can’t be a good idea… she idly thought, even as her hands moved to rest around his neck.
Dean let out a low growl, his tongue tangling with hers as he reached back and opened the cabin door. Still wrapped around each other, they stumbled inside, feet tangling as they stepped out of their shoes.
The fire was still burning and Hope was still sound asleep. Nothing had changed, except for everything. Dean’s lips on hers had awoken something inside her, something primal and demanding. Her insides clenched as his hands dipped lower on her back, until he was cupping her ass and grinding his hips against hers.
Oh, God…
Next thing she knew, he had twirled her around and had her pressed up against a wall and was trailing kisses down her neck. She gasped in a breath, running low on oxygen after their hot and heavy make-out session.
Head spinning and blood rushing, Deirdre could do little more than moan under his touch, letting her instincts carry her away. He knew exactly which buttons to press, from gently biting around her collarbone to slowly dragging his fingers up her inner thighs.
“Is this too much?” he asked softly, kissing her neck.
All she could do was shake her head, shivering underneath his touch.
Dean was the first man to ever make her feel this out of control. It was like all her life, she had had this vague notion of what passion was, and maybe had even made herself believe she had experienced it, but the full spectrum of the emotion had only been revealed to her now, at this very moment.
A sense of reckless abandon took over, emptying her mind of everyday clutter. There were always so many questions, decisions, fears and hopes rattling around in her skull, it felt freeing to only focus on one thing – how good Dean made her feel.
And even though she had vowed to take time for herself, to take a break from dating and keep her heart safe, she knew it was a promise she couldn’t keep right now. The connection she felt to Dean was too strong, and she didn’t want to deny herself the pleasure he could give her.
What the hell. You only live once, right? she thought, grabbing Dean’s head and dragging him back up so she could kiss him again.
“You taste so good,” Dean whispered in between kisses, trapping her between the wall and his hard body.
The hunger in his voice sent a tremble through Deirdre, making her insides throb. Her nipples already felt hard enough to cut steel with, and all she could think about was feeling his warm skin against hers.
A strangled sigh escaped Dean as she started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the intricate patterns on his chest. She kissed along the black lines of the tattoos, forming beautiful patterns that connected with his shoulders and arms.
Not content with waiting for her to undo the buttons, Dean ripped off his shirt and threw it on the ground before grabbing hold of the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head. Deirdre gasped as she was left standing in her matching set of bra and panties – a small bit of preparation she’d felt extremely silly about when she was picking the set out from her suitcase -, with Dean’s gaze devouring every inch of her.
“Bedroom?” he asked, his voice gravelly and his eyes on fire.
“Yes,” she whispered back, reaching out to run her fingers over the ridges of his six-pack.
All muscle, with his broad shoulders and huge arms, he almost didn’t look real. Yet here he was, right in front of her, and all he wanted was to make her his. It was powerful, feeling as wanted as she did at that moment, and her skin burned with anticipation.
She yelped as he scooped her up into his arms as if she was nothing, carrying her to his bedroom. She clung to him, even though there was no fear of him dropping her.
The sheets were cool at her back as he laid her down, kneeling over her and unbuckling his belt. Deirdre watched, mesmerized, as he threw off his pants, revealing his hard cock jutting out from his impressive body.
Holy shit. He’s huge.
“Like what you see?” he asked, grinning at her.
You could say that, a strangled voice answered in her head.
Pushing herself up
with her elbows, Deirdre scooted closer, until she could wrap her hand around his length, slowly stroking up and down.
“Is that a good enough answer?” she said, watching Dean’s eyes squeeze shut as his head fell back.
“Spirits above…” he mumbled under his breath, before grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back down on the bed, even when an obvious shudder passed through him.
His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, to teasing her nipples through her bra, making her squirm under him. Slipping a hand under her back, he unhooked it and tossed it to the side. Grazing his teeth over the sensitive nubs, he chuckled at the whimpers it drew from Deirdre.
“I love hearing you moan,” he said.
Swept away by the tidal wave of sensations, she couldn’t ever form a response. Her clit was throbbing against the lace of her panties and the emptiness inside her was begging to be filled.
Making goosebumps spread over her body, he trailed a hand down her stomach, stopping at her wet pussy. Still suckling on her nipples, he started to slowly circle her clit with his thumb, making her back arch.
“Fuck,” Deirdre drew out, lifting her hips in tune with his fingers.
“You’re already so wet for me,” he growled against her skin.
Hooking his fingers under the lace of her panties, he pulled them down, leaving her naked and writhing on the bed. She had no idea she could even want someone as badly as she wanted him right now. It seemed like madness, uncontrolled and thoroughly wild.
Gently rolling her to her side, he nestled close to her back, kissing her shoulders and massaging her ass. She was more than ready for him, angling her hips so she could take him all in. At least for a short while, she could focus entirely on the man who she was sharing this moment with, all the dark thoughts that had been roiling around in her head disappearing into the nether.
For now.
The tip of his cock started to push against her wet pussy, making her bite into the pillow next to her head. Gripping onto her hips, he started slow, sinking deeper with every thrust until he finally filled her up.