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The Baby Shift- Connecticut Page 3
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“It’ll be enough to see you,” she said with a raised chin. “I’m curious about it.” She leaned forward, eyeing their neighbors at the restaurant, and dropped her voice. “Where’s the farm?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t care less if people know. Besides,” he paused and tapped just next to his eyes. “It’s hard to hide this. Did you notice our waitress staring?”
A soft pink settled on her cheeks. “Yes, but I thought it might be...Well, you’re an attractive man.”
“Why, thank you, Ms. Lovelace.” He smirked, and she scoffed lightly. “You’re not a terrible looker yourself.”
“The Clan didn’t teach you much manners,” she said with a snort and sipped her beer. “That was for my own grief moment. Mourning the loss of gentlemen chivalry.”
He laughed and pressed a hand to his chest as though wounded by her words. “I assure you that I’m only kidding. You should know that only nervous men say things like that.” He raised his beer with a playful flourish and drank. “To my nervousness around beautiful and powerful women, which causes me more grief than I like to admit.”
She returned the smirk, and their desserts arrived. Two perfect pieces of chocolate cake. He imagined having much more than that for dessert, but he told the lion inside him to shut up. The lion would come later. The urges would be pushed away for now. When she went to the bathroom, he took another sip of his beer.
A grief moment. For his own fear.
Melissa
The chocolate cake was delicious, Melissa thought. Almost as delicious as her dinner companion. The grief night was turning out to be a much better date than she—or Raven—had imagined. Was it a date, though? The thought nagged at her as they chatted through dinner. She liked the way he leaned across the table excitedly to tell her some bit about Shifter culture. It was cute and getting cuter as she got tipsier.
He, however, seemed as sober as a choir boy.
“Do these beers even hit you?” she finally asked. They were actually nursing a dessert wine now. He grinned, a hint of boyish guilt beneath the gorgeous face.
“Not much,” he said. “Or else, I’d never drive us.”
She downed the last bit of her drink and sucked down her glass of water. Her tolerance for alcohol was quite high, but she didn’t want to be taken advantage of. Or do you? Her brain teased. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and cleared her throat.
She bounced her knee beneath the table. The server came with the check, still making googly eyes at Lionel. She didn’t really mind. He was handsome, there was no denying it, especially with those golden orbs. But, she hoped—no, prayed in some part of her heart— that those eyes would focus on her and her alone in the future.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
She downed the refill of water and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
They drove out towards the countryside. Past the city, past the suburbs, past most of her familiar surroundings. She never came this way when traveling.
“What’s it feel like to Shift?” she asked as they drove along. He turned down the volume with a quick movement of his hand.
“Hot,” he said with a laugh. “Like your bones and limbs are being melted. Not painful. Just awfully warm.”
“Fascinating,” she muttered. She never imagined that it could feel that way! Her brain nudged her. Perhaps she’d like to feel a bit of that heat herself. She bit her lips. Maybe she did...She scratched at the quick nail polish job that she’d done on her fingernails, already chipping. “I like grief night.”
“I’m glad,” he said and slowed down the car as they approached a long gravel driveway. “Ready?” He asked as he glanced at her. She nodded. He parked the car and they climbed out. “Now, there is something unusual that will happen…”
She glanced around in the dim light. There was only one street lamp barely giving off any illumination, but the moon was round and full in the sky. She opened her mouth to ask a question and turned to see him undressing in front of the Range Rover. Her jaw dropped. He was peeling off his shirt and throwing it casually into the duffel bag that he’d brought out from the car. No undershirt. She swallowed the dry grit in her throat.
His muscled abs were calling her name, but she pressed down the urge to run over and touch them. “You have to undress?” she asked, her voice almost squeaking towards the end. He nodded, laughing, but didn’t look up as he unbuttoned his jeans. She nearly fainted as he pulled them down, a pair of tight briefs hugging him. She averted her eyes and listened as he took off his shoes. She could hear him kicking the gravel away as he pulled the boots off.
Finally, he walked beyond her, gesturing to himself. “I know. I look ridiculous.”
Her mouth was dry, so terribly dry as she took in his gorgeous form. Ridiculous wasn’t the word that she would use. Shoulders so broad that she could rest her head on either side comfortably. She sucked in a breath. “You look...interesting.” She couldn’t think of a better word, but luckily, he was barely listening.
He was already transforming. If she’d gasped before around him, the sound her voice made now was nothing in comparison. He glowed. Glowed. A perfect golden color emanated from his body. He was a man’s silhouette, and then he wasn’t. He was changing, transforming into something beastly. She gasped, a loud and terrible sound in the silence, as the lion stepped forward. He gave a shake of his mighty mane, the fur flying. That same beautiful auburn gold that Lionel had in his human form.
“Beautiful,” she muttered. He jumped around playfully and began to run back and forth. She settled on the hood of the car, just admiring him with a slack jaw as she watched him move powerfully across the fields. He was breathtaking. Truly. A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away, not sure whether to feel foolish or brave for crying in the face of this magic.
Finally, what seemed like only a minute—or was it hours?—he came back and transformed. His body hunched over. The same black briefs on his perfectly sculpted body.
“That,” she said as he walked up, “I think that’s a light side of life. A good side.”
He grinned and she handed him his duffel bag. He began dressing. “The first time I transformed outside of childhood, it was without these special garments they make for us now.” He snapped the band of his briefs, and she swallowed her desire, trying not to stare at the outline of his powerful presence beneath the waist. “I was stark naked as a fourteen-year-old boy. In front of all my clan members.”
She cackled, feeling the buzz of the alcohol still in her system. “Well, I can’t say that’s not the worst thing for a fourteen-year-old.”
He patted his chest. “It leaves a scar.” He finished buttoning his jeans and then pulled his shirt back over himself but didn’t button up. “Shall we leave?”
She laughed, a dark sound coming from her mouth, mixed with all the lust that was coursing through her veins. “Have we grieved enough?” Then she tilted her head back to admire the moon. “Yes, I guess it’s better that we go back.”
His eyes flashed with something dark and mysterious. “Alright, then.”
They got back into the car and drove back to their neighborhood in silence. She fretted with the edge of her sleeves, wondering if she said something wrong, wondering if she made it awkward, wondering if the silence was okay. She licked her lips, thinking of his open shirt. What would happen if she just reached over and—
He pulled into his driveway and parked. “Well, great grief night.” He turned to her, and her body moved towards him without her realizing. His reaction was instant. Their noses nearly brushed. She nearly said something. Something like that she wanted him, needed him, would like him pressed against her.
And then they both pulled away before their lips, barely a centimeter apart, could brush. She flushed, an icy-hot sensation rushing through her.
“Goodnight, Lionel.” She rushed back to her house and locked the door behind her, heart pumping.
They’d almost kissed...and yet, they’d both pulled away. She sighed
. Thor lifted his head and gave her an “I know what you mean” look.
Lionel
The smell of her hair. The promise of her embrace. The chance to kiss her. Lionel stood on his patio and sucked in a deep breath. Melissa was away for work, he knew. He’d unconsciously memorized her schedule through their conversations.
It was killing him. Their bare brush of lips. Worse, they’d both turned away. They’d both pulled away at that precious moment. Why? He whistled and then scowled. Part of him was delighted, electrified by their near kiss. But, another part, the primal part, was absolutely dissatisfied. It wanted him to march into her bar, throw her over his shoulder, and bring her back to his home to ravish her. He clicked his tongue in his mouth, shaking his head furiously, hoping the thoughts would fall out with each movement.
It didn’t work. He padded back into the house, listless. Olivia was sleeping blissfully. He stayed downstairs to pace the kitchen and living room, slowly back and forth, drawing the curtains so that nobody could see his madness.
He’d had plenty of kisses in the clan. Kisses shared as kids just kidding and trying something new, kisses exchanged passionately between potential mate interests that all faded into nothing, kisses with Rebecca. Those last kisses had felt like truth.
And his near-kiss with Melissa had nearly unraveled him. He sank into an armchair, his knee bouncing madly.
His eyes narrowed. He tightened his jaw unconsciously as he leaned forward, cradling his heads between his knees. Deep breaths. Shifter breathing, like a fire burning through his chest. A technique that was supposed to calm him down. But, all that was getting through was the memory of her scent.
He glanced up at the ceiling, listening intently for Olivia’s breathing upstairs. Sleeping deeply. He slipped out of the house, on the opposite side of Melissa’s house. He’d Shifted and loped through the trees before anyone could see him.
He ran fast and hard. Every muscle, every fiber of his being was being channeled into his power. His paws struck the wet dirt as he made it into the forested part, far past the suburbs, into the countryside and farther from the city. He ran until he could barely remember his name. A lone truck’s swinging bright headlights nearly revealed him as he ran along a field. It shocked him from his sprint. He paused, a magnificent beast in the moonlight, with nothing but the birds to admire him.
Olivia.
He turned around, forgot his grief and desperation. He would go back for his daughter. This wasn’t just his life anymore. He couldn’t just run around doing his own grief night. He jumped over his fence and landed with a sudden skidding stop as he caught a familiar scent.
Melissa’s scent. She hovered in the distance. The noise he’d clumsily made by accident had caught her attention. He watched her gorgeous eyes slide over the yard and fall upon him. She lifted a hand to her mouth. Her tote bag was hanging beside her in a limp grip. She must’ve just come from work. He inhaled the scent of spilled alcohol on her tight black shirt.
She stumbled forward. “I didn’t realize—” She stopped and shook her head. “I came to apologize.” Her legs kept moving towards him, crossing the dew-covered grass as if she wasn’t in control of her own body. “I should’ve kissed you.” The last breath statement came before she finally stopped before him.
Her mascara was smudged beneath her eye. Her lipstick faded, settled into the corners of her mouth. Her braided hair had shaken loose with all the crinkled signs of having been hastily undone in the car. She’d never looked more beautiful.
She stepped towards him with cautious movement and went to raise her hands. He bowed, allowing his face to come close to her. She placed her hands gently on his face, on either side of it, and ran her gaze over his eyes.
“You’re even beautiful like this,” she said with a funny laugh. And then she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead. “I’m only brave enough to kiss you like this right now. But I’ll be ready soon.”
She stroked his fur and then she turned to retreat to her own house, hurrying inside. He sat, stunned and purring in delighted silence. Inside his house, he dragged himself, naked in human form up to the master bathroom. He turned the water as hot as it would go and sat beneath the falling water. A pleasant shiver ran through him.
He went to Olivia’s room, a towel wrapped around his waist. In the darkness, he watched his young daughter sleep. How gentle her movements had become while slumbering. He admired the rise and fall of her tiny chest, wondering what strength might lay inside her own heart as she grew up. Would she Shift? He could see tiny flecks of gold in her eyes, a welcome development since Olivia’s blue eyes were too much like Rebecca’s own.
He would forget Rebecca.
He had to.
He went back to his room and dressed in his pajamas. His run had exhausted him. He crawled into bed, a pair of sweatpants hung loosely around his hips. The screen of his phone lit up, plugged into his charger on the bedside table.
A text from his sister: The family wants to meet Liv. Can I borrow her for a weekend? ☺
A shiver of anticipation ran through him. Yes, that would work quite nicely. He could have some free time. With Melissa. He ran a hand through his hair, and before he knew it, he was falling into darkness.
Melissa
She wasn’t expecting him. It was her day off. She was in the garden, hunched over her budding onions, wondering if she planted them too early in the year and how they’d taste on salads when they were ready. His arms wrapped around her waist. She gasped as she felt his heat behind her. She knew it was him by the hot honey scent.
“Lionel,” she said in a rushed voice and then darted a look to the street. “It’s the middle of the day.” But her skin was on fire from his touch. His eyes were wild as he pulled her, the tight arm around her waist, even closer.
“I waited for days. My sister said she was coming by to take Olivia to meet the family in New York.” He swallowed hard. “I have some ideas about what I’d like to do during that free time.”
She bit her lip, spotting the mail courier’s car coming down the street. “Inside.” She stroked her hair, patting the sweat down, her cheeks now rushing with red.
“I didn’t hear from you,” she said quickly as they stumbled inside, his arm still around her. “I thought you thought I was some kind of freak after kissing you when you were—”
His lips silenced her. His kiss was desperate, hungry. She moaned against it, melting into his grip. God, he felt good to touch. Her hands went up to press his neck down, putting more passion into their kiss. He growled against her, grinding himself into her as they hit the hallway wall. His rough lips glided over hers.
His every touch suggested that she was delicate yet strong, a woman worthy of worship. She’d never been touched like this before.
“What do you desire?” he asked in a rough voice, breaking their kiss. He rested his forehead against her. Lust pooled inside her, begging to touch him and be touched more. To never have him leave her. Her hands slide over his body, marveling at the sensation of the hardened muscles beneath her fingertips, all of the work spent building a powerful body. A body that coursed with power and beastly promise.
“I want you,” she answered truthfully, her voice husky and full of desire. How they found themselves stumbling down the hall, grasping at one another between searing kisses, she didn’t know. But they found her room soon enough. After he’d pinned her against the wall again to kiss her fiercely and gently nudge his leg between the space of her thighs, coaxing a wonderful shiver from her.
His hands continued to wander as she led him into the bedroom, kicking past a pile of dirty clothes on the ground. They collapsed onto the bed. His eyes glimmered with desire as he hovered above her. She snaked her hands into his gorgeous, auburn hair.
“What do you want?” she asked.
His eyes met her with such stark honesty that it left her breathless. “You.” He said it again, like a love song, “You, Melissa.” Their lips met again.
His mouth broke away, moved to trail kisses down her neck, to pleasure every inch of her skin. They pulled at their clothes, desperate to remove them in jerking movements. The cool air reached her skin as she lay before him in only a bra, her pants halfway down her legs.
“Gorgeous,” he said as he kissed. He helped her tug the jeans off. She moaned as his tongue licked down the expanse of her stomach.
“I’m sweaty!” she cried.
“I. Don’t. Care.” He kissed her skin between each word. She gasped as his teeth found the edge of her underwear and pulled them down.
“Lionel,” she moaned as he gently nibbled her hip bone. “Don’t tease me.”
“But, it’s so fun,” he said in a sinfully wicked voice as his fingers ran up and down her thighs. She moaned as he coaxed his ways beneath the thin lace fabric of her panties and gasped when his fingers found his target. He grinned at her sudden panting and desperate moans, working his fingers against her.
“Lionel,” she begged. “Please!” How could he keep denying her the rightful prize? She rose up with a powerful movement, ripping at his shirt, which was still unfortunately on. “Strip.”
“Yes, Ms. Lovelace,” he said in a dark whisper and began undressing in teasingly slow movements. She nearly ripped his shirt clean in two to get it off. He stood before her, a pair of red briefs hung snugly around his hips. She could see his own desire and passion clearly.
“Take me,” she told him. He climbed on top of her. They pulled their underwear off. His hand went around her back to unclasp her bra and the cool air kissed her breaths. He licked her nipples gently as he placed himself over her, hovering above her entrance.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Always,” she moaned as she went up for a kiss. He entered her as their mouths met. She groaned, allowing her tongue to explore his mouth as he thrust inside her. She could feel his powerful member inside her, coaxing her to pleasure. He groaned as he increased his pace, and she bucked her hips to meet his shameless movements. Gone were their careful words and movements. She threw her head back, breaking the kiss, as he slammed into an inescapable coiled spot of pleasure inside her.