The Baby Shift- Pennsylvania

by Becca Fanning

  Blade complied, taking the spoon and scooping up another spoonful. She smiled and went to the kitchen sink with their dirty plates, feeling a sudden bout of sadness. The idea of Blade leaving… it’d only been a week and a half, yet she’d grown used to his presence around her and Oliver. Tears threatened to prick her eyes as she scrubbed the plates.

  “Marcy?” Blade’s deep voice asked from behind her. “Are you okay? You got quiet.”

  She let out a weak laugh as she placed the plates on the dish rack and wiped her hand on the towel hanging on the cabinet. “No, no, I’m fine,” she lied and turned to face him. Her face bumped into a strong solid chest and a burst of heat ran up her spine. He’d moved away from Oliver to approach her at the sink without her noticing. Her eyes dragged upward, beyond his broad and (from the feel of it) muscled chest, to see his amused but equally surprised face.

  For a moment, she knew that she had to step away. She was practically grinding up against his pelvis. And yet, she swallowed a dry lump in her throat, her muscles wouldn’t move. Something animalistic sparked in his eyes. Suddenly, his head was lowering, and she couldn’t stop herself from standing up, up, up… until their lips met.

  The spark was instant. It sent an electric shock through both of him. She gasped when his arms wrapped around her, pressing her against him. God, she wanted it. She wanted him. She moved against him, her want peaking.

  A cry ran out from Oliver. She ripped herself back, chest heaving as her gaze fell to the floor.

  “We shouldn’t, Blade,” she said quickly and then darted over to the crying baby. His face fell, but he nodded.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll go, Marcy.”

  She didn’t stop him, but she did watch through the window as he left. Her heart gave a painful throb as she presses Oliver to her chest, coddling him until he stopped crying.

  Blade

  A week since their kiss. Six days, six hours, and forty-eight minutes. But who was counting? Blade dragged a ragged hand through his hair. His phone buzzed. Bella on the caller ID. No, thanks. He silenced it as Marcus droned on about the schedule for the day.

  “And tomorrow, of course, you have off, Sir,” Marcus said and flicked something on his tablet. “For your father’s party. Everyone is aware of it, so nobody should be sending you any e-mails or work-related inquiries.”

  It was the only thing on Blade’s mind these days. This damn party.

  “Perfect, Marcus.”

  Things weren’t perfect anywhere else for Blade except for work at the moment. Marcy’s responses were polite and to the point after the… incident last week. His ears burned with the memory of her downcast eyes.

  “We shouldn’t, Blade.”

  Had anyone woman ever denied him before, Shifter or human? No. It was a blow to his pride. Or that’s what he thought at first… and then the deeper meaning came. He wanted Marcy. He needed her like his morning coffee. She was all he could think about. In his dreams, he could nearly smell her signature scent.

  And soon the party would be over…

  And their partnership would end…

  By the late afternoon, as the sun sank, he couldn’t contain himself anymore. Locked away in his penthouse apartment, he tried to do pushups until his arms collapsed. Still, there was something inside of him. His beast, telling him to shift, to run, to claim what was his. When night fell, he no longer had the willpower to withhold.

  Shifters of his kind, the glorious Lion pride that he and his father hailed from, had little reason to Shift when they weren’t in immediate danger. They’d traded their runs as lions for walks around the country clubs in sharp suits. But, tonight? Tonight, his beast demanded it. He stripped himself down to his boxers and undershirt in the pale moonlight coming through his apartment. He lifted his hands to the sky. Take away this energy, he begged, this desperation. It was despair he’d never felt before.

  In his private elevator, wrapped in a robe and looking like a handsome deranged escapee from an asylum, he climbed into his car and drove to the outskirts of the city. Not far from where Marcy and Oliver lived. If he strained hard enough, he could practically hear her voice over the roar of his engine as he accelerated through the deserted roads near the countryside. He pulled over near an abandoned field.

  His body began changing. Slowly, as it was apt to do when a Shifter wasn’t in practice, and soon he was himself. His real self. The powerful muscles, the sheen of his fur. He let out a roar that traveled across the region. And soon his legs were moving without his mind knowing what he was doing. He let go of any last bits of control. It was the beast and nothing else.

  It was no surprise that he found himself sprinting towards Marcy’s home. She’d be sleeping. But, his heart leaped in his monstrous chest, there was a sliver of light coming from her room. He could see her clearly from outside. Her eyes were scanning a book. He could see her long hair piled up on her head and the slinky strap of a nightgown.

  His beast wanted to roar, to draw her attention outside.

  But, Blade reined in the control finally. Not like this. Could she ever face him like this? He pawed at the ground and then turned around, running as fast as he’d come. Tomorrow. He was determined.

  Tomorrow, he would tell her how he felt.

  --

  The day of the party, he woke up to Bella announcing on social media about her large hand in planning the party with Marcy. He promptly rolled his eyes and hopped into the shower. Marcus called him as he was stepping out.

  “Sir, I sent over the dress as you asked,” he said. “The flowers and chocolates, as well. The breakfast will be delivered at her work for her and her team.”

  “Perfect,” Blade said as he dried himself. He thanked his assistant and hung up the phone. Today would be busy. It was his job to cater to his father today. First, there would be a light lunch at his father’s home. He’d need a drink already if he were going to get through Bella lying through her veneers about being the one to plan most of the party. He fixed his suit and packed his party suit in the car, driving over to his family home.

  Blade’s father was seated in the study, poring over a newspaper with a glass of scotch already.

  “It’s eleven in the morning,” he informed his father, who looked up briefly with a tired expression.

  “And Bella is convinced it’s her party tonight,” he sniffed with annoyance. “I didn’t even want a party.”

  “You’re going to have fun,” Blade promised with a knowing smile. After a pause, he asked, “How did you know you were in love with Mom?”

  His father dropped the newspaper and stared at his son with wide eyes. “What in God’s name makes you ask that?”

  “Curiosity.”

  His father’s eyebrows rose. “It was her scent.”

  “And Bella?”

  “Her youth… although I may regret that late-life crisis.”

  “Ah,” Blade remarked with a smirk. “Her scent.” He said this last part to himself. His phone buzzed. It was a message from Marcy.

  Marcy: Blade! This dress cost ten thousand dollars! I looked it up online. How did you even know my measurements?!

  He smirked to himself, and his father gave him a pointed look from behind his newspaper.

  “So, you’re in love,” his father said.

  “Who said that?

  “Your face.” His father cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to say it.

  “You’ll meet her tonight,” Blade promised as he poured a glass for himself and clinked it to his father’s scotch on the table between them. “Let’s try to survive lunch until then.”

  Marcy

  “It should be illegal to look that good,” Jessica informed her as Marcy stepped out of the house in her dress. It was a fiery red number that Blade had chosen for her which hugged her every curve and ended at the ankles in a tight cinch. A wiggle dress, her mother called it. Oliver would be in her parent’s care for the night. He seemed antsy since he hadn’t been able to see Blade, but she pushed th
at thought away as she finished reapplying her lipstick in the evening light with her powder compact. Jessica was dropping her off at the party thirty minutes early. Just in case. Marcy always made sure her events went without a hitch.

  “Blade’s gonna freak when he sees you,” Jessica cooed in the car.

  “Maybe,” Marcy replied doubtfully.

  “What?” Jessica asked and then narrowed her eyes. “You’re not telling me something.”

  Marcy tried not to bite her lip, for fear of messing up her lipstick. “He… almost kissed me.” Jessica nearly slammed on the brakes and caused an accident, and Marcy swore loudly as they recovered.

  “Jessica!”

  “Marcy!” she cried right back. “You’re going to kiss that man tonight.” And she wouldn’t hear any arguments about it. When she dropped Marcy off, she leaned into to whisper, “I put a few condoms in your handbag along with some hairspray. Just in case.” The last part she said with a wink, and she drove off before Marcy could fire back a witty remark.

  Unbelievable, Marcy thought… but she was smiling. The security guards at the front greeted her excitedly, their eyes roving over her outfit. She blushed from the admiration as they showed her to the service elevator, where she could sneak in more easily to make sure things were going well before joining the party.

  After talking to the head caterer, who had brought her custom-made pastries already, and ensuring everything was running smoothly, it was already fifteen minutes into the party. She emerged slyly from the kitchen and grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby server with a mutter of thanks. Her nerves were on high alert, eyes darting around to see where her handsome partner-in-crime might be.

  It seemed as if the crowd parted where she walked. Suddenly, she’d floated right into the center of the action. The people next to her fell back. Several pairs of eyes were admiring her gown… or how her body looked in this gown. She wanted to make a run for the bathroom, but someone caught her by the arm with a gentle but firm grasp.

  “Marcy,” a husky voice said at her side. She blushed. She knew that voice. It was in her dreams every night. She swallowed as she turned to face Blade. He was more handsome than ever, wearing a tuxedo that accentuated his wild features and broad frame.

  “Blade,” she said and let her gaze fall. “Thank you for the dress.”

  His finger rubbed her arm as he said breathlessly, “You look amazing.”

  She smiled up at him. “You think?”

  “I know,” he said. His gaze held that same beastly spark a week ago when they kissed. She tried not to press her lips together, fearful of smudging her lipstick. Her pulse spiked as he leaned in. People were watching them with heightened interest. “Let me get you a drink. Come with me.”

  She allowed him to lead her by the arm to the fully-stocked bar. There were four signature cocktails, which she’d helped plan, and a variety of featured scotches alongside the usual bar selection. She ordered the fizzy French 75 with cranberry syrup, and he ordered a neat scotch.

  “How did you know my measurements?” she asked, feeling braver after her first sip of alcohol.

  He smirked. “I’m good at guessing.

  “Lots of experience handling bodies?” she teased with rolled eyes.

  “I won’t answer that until I have a lawyer present,” he informed her and then jerked his head over towards the far side of the room. “Would you like to meet my father? Also, try to pretend like you recognize Bella. She’s been lying and saying that she helped plan this whole thing.”

  “Delightful family,” she muttered and put on a mega-watt smile as he led her over to meet his family. When his father saw her approaching, he smiled knowingly and shot a look towards Blade.

  “Marcy,” Blade’s father said and shook her hand with surprising strength for his age. “Bella and Blade have told me many wonderful things about you.” Bella nodded enthusiastically, adding comments to suggest how they all helped planned tonight before getting distracted by another socialite passing by.

  “Pleased to meet you,” the old man said and then with a knowing wink towards Blade, “The scent. Remember that.” He departed after his wife, giggling with a group of dazzling guests.

  “The scent?” Marcy echoed with a pointed look towards Blade. He shrugged, feigning ignorance. Or maybe he was ignorant. She took a long gulp of her drink, enjoying the effect of the booze in her system. “Do you want to dance?”

  “Yes,” he said quickly and began leading her towards the edge of the room.

  “The dance floor’s over there,” she protested as he slipped out to the balcony.

  “I had them unlock this one,” he said with a wink. When he closed the doors behind them, they could see the city around them and hear the faint music coming from inside.

  He took their drinks and placed them on a nearby table. She slipped her hand into his and he began leading the dance, smiling down at her.

  “You seem different tonight,” he said.

  “More makeup and an evening gown,” she replied coolly. He smirked and spun her. She tripped, falling back into his chest into a fit of giggles. When she turned around, the same beastly look was in his eyes.

  Except for this time, it was exciting her immensely. She threw her arms around his neck and tugged him into a powerful kiss. He kissed her passionately and then pulled away.

  “I’ve got another surprise,” he whispered huskily and pulled her along to another set of doors that led to a service staircase. She giggled as she followed him and they disappeared into the dimly lit stairwell, kissing all the way.

  Blade

  Of course, he rented a deluxe suite. He wasn’t a fool, and he wasn’t about to let Marcy leave without being fully ravished if she wanted to be. He’d slipped a healthy bribe to one of the servers to show him a back way to get to the luxury suites. He dragged Marcy along, enjoying her fits of giggles as they finally made it to the door. He slid the hotel card and opened the door, revealing a luxurious suite filled with rose petals and three champagne buckets.

  Marcy let out a startled laugh. “So, you were planning on seducing me all along?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said and popped one of the bottles with practiced ease. He gave her a glass and waited for her to take one sip before attacking her with kisses again. She groaned in pleasure against his assault.

  “The party!” she cried breathlessly between kisses.

  “I’ll hire you to throw a thousand more,” he said, silencing each protest with a passionate kiss. She moaned as his tongue swept over her lip, begging for entrance. She granted it and his hands dove into her curls, pulling her closer into him. She writhed against him, and it was his turn to groan as her pelvis brushed against his crotch. He let out a breathless curse and stood, grabbing her into his arms like a young maiden in need of rescuing. She squealed as he dashed over to the large king-size bed awaiting them. When he dropped her, gently, she laughed as rose petals on the comforter sprang up all over her.

  He was on her in an instant. Unable to contain himself, nearly ripping his suit jacket off in the process. He watched her breasts, tightly contained in her dress, rise and fall in excitement. His lips descended upon her and his hands went to rove her sides. She bucked up against him with a cry of pleasure as his lips began to nibble down her neck, his tongue teasing her plunging neckline. She gasped as his teeth, the subtle fangs barely scraped against the skin.

  He couldn’t stop kissing her. Something in him had broken up and he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t inhale enough of her mesmerizing scent. It was her and only her that he needed. Now. Maybe forever. His mind reeled too quickly for him to catch up as she kissed him with everything she had. His hands moved over her curves, loving the touch of them, but needing to feel her soft skin. She began to pull at her zipper. He helped her with it, enjoying the feeling of allowing his finger to trace down her spine as he unzipped her dress. She shivered and shimmied out of the fabric, a glorious body covered in
black lace lingerie that he hadn’t sent… but he wished he had.

  She tugged at his suit and he complied more than willing, stripping it from his body. He was in a pair of luxuriously snug briefs and black socks as she admired his body with wide eyes. Her fingers traced the hardened muscles, and she inhaled sharply when she ran across a scar on his chiseled stomach.

  “An accident when I was young,” he assured her with a kiss to her hand. He smirked as her eyes kept roving across his muscles. “Like what you see?”

  “You’re so pompous,” she complained lightly and opened her mouth to say more, but he crushed it with a kiss.

  Falling had never felt so wonderful, and they both were falling, he knew. They tumbled onto the bed, their hands desperately grabbing at one another. He removed her bra in a swift movement.

  “Lots of practice?” she teased, arching her back. He couldn’t take in her body anymore; he was too preoccupied to hear the words coming out of her mouth. He kissed her again, his hands massaging her naked breasts. She moaned, writhing underneath his touch, and her fingers went to tug his briefs. They slid down and he kicked them off. Her eyebrows raised as she surveyed him. “I understand why you’re so confident, now.”

  He smirked against her neck, nipping it ever so slightly just to draw the smallest bit of blood. “I’ve called dibs on you,” he said, lapping at the blood, enjoying the shiver of pleasure it earned from her body. She opened her mouth to retort something feisty, but he was hovering just outside her entrance. He eased his member in, and her head lolled back in ecstasy.

  “More,” she cried. And he was happy to comply with her request. He entered her and she moaned in pleasure as he thrust inside her with a powerful movement. She arched to meet him at every move, their rhythm was a glorious journey of pleasure. As she reached her end, she wrapped her legs around him and cried out his name. He let out an impressive roar as he finished just behind her. Their movements slowed. Their sweating bodies collapsed next to one another. He flung his arm over her, drawing her against his chest.