Authors: Holley Trent
Tags: #shapeshifter, #shapeshifter romance, #cat shifter, #werecougar, #fated mates, #alpha hero, #strong heroine, #forbidden love
Glen kicked off her shoes and wriggled out of her shorts, trying and failing to keep Floyd’s questing hands off her breasts as she moved.
He always groped. She’d gotten used to it because she knew how hard he tried to keep his hands to himself. He managed, most of the time. He was unlike any other man she knew with his constant need to not only be in her space, but to touch in ways that weren’t necessarily sexual. Most men she knew didn’t waste time on the sweet stuff.
“Be patient, Floyd.” She rolled onto her hands and knees.
“I’m being patient. I just want to touch you. It’s been a while, and I never get to see all of you.”
Furrowing her brow, she pondered that, and realized he was right. She’d never taken off everything for him. Just an article here and there depending on where they were and how much time they had.
“Well, let’s get you all caught up, then.” She backed toward the cave entrance, and he crawled after her, his brown eyes reflective pools in the dim light.
She put her hands on her hips and turned in a full circle for him. “See me?”
“I see ya, Glen.”
“What’s the next step?” She jutted one hip and raised an eyebrow at him. “Gonna memorize all my birthmarks and freckles now?”
He shook his head solemnly. “Nope. That’s not gonna warm you up.” He worked his hand idly down his hard shaft and lowered his gaze past her belly.
“You have ideas of how to do that, then?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Let me hear them.”
“Rather show you,” he said. “Come here.”
She narrowed her eyes and shifted her weight.
“You might be trying to look mean, but standing there naked, you look like you need to be taken care of, Glen. Come here and let me take care of you.”
“You’ve been promising to take care of me for two years.”
“So let me.”
“How’s that gonna look, huh? You gonna move onto the ranch and pitch in?”
“You’ll move in with the Foyes.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Right. Your mother would probably try to suffocate me in my sleep.”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“Not if you were around, maybe, but you can’t be around me all the time.”
“That’s what you think,” he muttered, but she heard him. “You’re standing too far away. Quit that.”
He grabbed her hips and tugged her toward him—to her
knees
—then laid her gently on her back.
“You gonna start warming me up now?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm.” He knelt between her legs and smoothed his palms up the insides of her thighs, making her body quiver and sex clench in anticipation.
“Gonna start here,” he said as his thumb parted her cleft and dipped into her wetness.
“That’s a good place.”
“Mm-hmm. Good place to hide things.”
“I don’t see you ripping open a condom packet, so what’d you have in mind? Not just fingers, I hope.”
Although Floyd was
very
good at hiding his fingers, if she were going to be naked and out in the elements, she wanted all he could give.
“Not just fingers.” He dipped his head and lashed his tongue up her slit.
Gasping, she gripped the covers and her body bolted upright.
One-handed, he pushed her shoulders back down while his other hand parted her lower lips.
“Floyd, what are you doing?”
It was
obvious
what he was doing. The better question might have been, “
Why are you doing that?
”
He’d never done that before—at least, not to her, and she’d never been with anyone else.
“Tasting you.” His tongue lashed at the tops of her thighs, slowly and teasingly, before he locked his lips around her clit.
“Oh my God.” Her legs locked around his back and fingers curled into his hair. “What are you—”
His swirling tongue around her distended nub stole her words and her breath. He flicked his tongue rapidly against her, each tap setting off a tiny shockwave in her sex that had her clenching around his slowly probing finger.
So good
.
But she wanted more.
Her back arched off the pallet and breath caught in her throat as he thrust his tongue where his finger had been. The wet digit pressed and tugged at her clit, and when he squeezed it, she flailed beneath him. Her body didn’t know how to process the sensations except to shiver. Her legs had gone limp and fell from his back, and that seemed to suit him just fine, because he held down her thighs and damn near buried his face between her legs.
He flattened his tongue and passed it back and forth across her sex, catching her clit roughly with each pass.
With each rapid tap, she whimpered—not having enough breath to do more than that.
He slipped his finger back into her along with another, and thrust them rapidly in and out of her as he circled his tongue around her erogenous nub.
Every cell in Glen’s body seemed to contract all at once and then expand.
The air she’d managed to pull in came out in a shout and her body spasmed uncontrollably against the pallet, against his mouth.
He kept licking her until she stopped moving, which took quite a bit of time because each wet touch make her writhe a little more.
She was panting when he pulled his fingers from her.
He slipped them between his lips, sat back on his heels, and stared down at her as he sucked his fingers clean.
She stared—couldn’t do anything but that for a while—and then the best she could come up with was, “When you said you wanted to take me somewhere, I didn’t imagine it’d be
there
.”
“You taste good.”
She groaned and then laughed. “You always say such pretty things.”
He shrugged and settled down beside her. With one hand beneath his head, he stroked his cock idly and stared out the cave entrance.
He’d never been the kind of man who would freely volunteer his thoughts. He wasn’t a man who wasted words. If Glen wanted to know them, she had to ask. Usually, she wanted to know.
“What are you thinking about, Floyd?” She danced her fingertips through the thatch of hair on his chest and then let her hand rest at his waist.
“Everything and nothing.”
“Careful. You might hurt your head.”
“Better my head than my heart, right?”
“Hmm?”
He pulled her atop of him and nestled her face against his neck.
As usual, his sweetly musky scent made her draw in deep, comforting breaths that had her body going limp and useless atop his.
“Tell me you’re not gonna leave me, Glen. Tell me you don’t want anyone else.”
“I’ve never been with anyone else, and not because I’m just complacent.”
“You haven’t really been looking. If you were looking, you could find someone else, and probably someone better. I want you to tell me you’re not gonna go looking.”
“I didn’t plan to. Why? Were you thinking of doing something to piss me off and need to make sure I’ll take you back after you do it?”
“No. I just need you to tell me that you’re mine and that I get to keep you.”
“Floyd, I can’t even call you my
boyfriend
in public.”
“So marry me.”
She groaned again and closed her eyes. “That’s not the magic bullet you think it is.”
“Maybe it is.”
“How so?”
“You marry me, and no one’s gonna try to keep you away from me. You’d be mine, not theirs. I’d take care of you.”
“I’m not a
thing
to be had, and I’ve always taken care of myself just fine.”
“Have you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And don’t you dare shrug. If you’ve got something to say, you’d best spit it out.”
He shrugged anyway.
She growled at him.
“It’s just the truth, Glen. You do all right living with your folks, but if you were out on your own, you couldn’t hack it.”
“Ex
cuse
me?”
“Think about it. You haven’t been farther than this county, and the only folks you ever see are the ones your parents let you see. In spite of that, they know you’re going to have to leave the roost because they can’t afford to keep you there. You’re a grown woman.”
“Grown woman. Yup. I’m pretty sure I just reminded
you
of that.”
“I’m telling you what you already know so we’re clear we both understand it. The ranch isn’t your place anymore. You belong with me.”
“That’s really romantic, Floyd, but answer me this.” She inched away from him and pulled her knees up to her chest, already missing his body heat. “You Foyes are just as hard up as we are. What difference does it make if I’m poor at home or poor with you?”
“We’d be better together.”
“Nuh-uh. That’s fairytale stuff. We’d be broke and miserable. Snarling and angry at each other all the time because of how dire things are, and instead of having my parents wish they’d have one less mouth to feed, it’d be
your
parents wishing it. I can’t marry you right now, Floyd. I’m sorry. I think it’ll make things worse. I think we should just leave things the way they are for now. Hope you can understand.”
If Floyd had a response to that, he didn’t share it. He didn’t say anything, and his expression gave nothing away.
But it never did.
Why Floyd had thought Glen would be easy to convince, he didn’t know. His father had always told him that a woman’s acceptance didn’t matter, anyway, unless she knew what he was and what he was capable of. It’d been easy for his father because Floyd’s mother was a Cougar, too. There was no learning curve, and she’d accepted him as a mate knowing that he would probably be the glaring’s alpha someday.
She’d known what her responsibilities would be and how the women of the glaring would see her as their ambassador to the alpha. When she’d said yes, she’d known what a burden being an alpha’s mate was and how she’d have to open her heart and keep feeding it to make it bigger so she didn’t turn cold and uncaring. Her job was to ensure that every woman and child got the care and attention they needed, all the while tending to her own large family’s needs.
The alpha always had a bunch of kids. An heir, a spare, a just-in-case, and then a few more to love, if he could manage it. Raising Cougar kids wasn’t a walk in the park on the best of days. An alpha’s woman needed to be everywhere at once, and somehow Ma managed it.
Floyd knew Glen had the right stuff. He knew how she cared about folks—even the ones who didn’t deserve it—and how she could make do with little to nothing. More importantly, she wasn’t the kind of woman who could be easily subdued by a Cougar too big for his britches. After all, she dealt with cowboys all day long. She knew the type well, and had a few as brothers.
He loved her, yes, but he
needed
her, too. The part of him that was animal wasn’t going to be content with Floyd waiting much longer to claim her. He wanted his mate. If Floyd didn’t have her consent soon, the beast in him would try to take control, and he wouldn’t use the right words or have enough patience. He’d scare her.
As Glen slept, curled up in a ball at the edge of the pallet and bathed in the early morning light, Floyd stood quietly, and then removed his pants.
Closing his eyes, he laid his head to one side and then to the other, mentally preparing to shapeshift. He’d been shifting since puberty and had long since become familiar with all the tugs and rips and aches, but he liked to center himself ahead of time, anyway. Shapeshifting was never something to be taken lightly. His father had taught him to never do it solely to show off or else intimidate. He needed to respect the part of him that was cat, and show more graciousness to the goddess than did their stubborn ancestor who’d been amongst the group of originating cats she’d cursed into existence.
On four legs rather than two, he took a moment to ground himself in the cat’s body and to get reacquainted with its posture and balance. He also needed to square himself with the black-and-white way of thinking he always had when he was in that form. He’d need to remain considerate of nuances. Details grated at his cat instincts, but the man part of him knew they were important. Nuances would keep Glen from finding him to be some kind of despicable abomination instead of simply a man with a particular gift.
Maybe he was an abomination after all, but he couldn’t let her run. He’d keep her there until she understood and accepted him. It was the Cougar way.
He didn’t know how long he’d sat there at the cave entrance watching her sleep. Discerning time in that form was always difficult, but when she did finally open her eyes, her forehead was beaded with sweat from the quickly warming desert and the pile of covers she’d huddled beneath.
Gaze settling on him, her eyes went round with terror and voice came out in a shrill scream that echoed in the nearby canyon.
She scrambled to the back of the cave and pulled her backpack in front of her, likely trying to make herself look larger, but that wouldn’t have deterred the most curious of cats. She smelled so sweet and alive, and all that movement was doing was making her scent stronger.
He stood and took a slow step toward her.
“Floyd!” she screamed.
It’s me, baby.
Another step.
“Floyd! Help!”
You don’t need rescuing from me. You’re mine.
Another step.
“Oh my God.” She was visibly shaking, likely feeling completely powerless. He didn’t relish making her feel that way, but he needed to be sure that she understood the connection. He needed her certain that she was awake so that when he shifted back, she’d know the being in front of her wasn’t a dream.
Another step, but she didn’t see it. She was curled into a ball with her bag held uselessly in front of her.
Look at me, Glen.
He was in front of her. His front paws right against her feet.
She was shaking so hard, and more than anything, he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he needed to make her understand first. He was a Cougar, and she had to accept that. They couldn’t move on until she did.
He pushed his muzzle against her, and in response to her scream, licked what he could reach of her face.
Whimpering, she exposed one eye.
He licked her forehead and sat back on his haunches.
“Go away,” she whimpered. “Find something else to eat.”
Already ate you, Glen.
He always seemed to have his best comebacks when he lacked a human mouth to speak them.
The legend of
La Bella Dama
’s first Cougars was that after they returned to their people after being cursed, their lovers had taken several days to recognize who they were. The goddess had given those Cougars two weeks to get their mates to recognize and accept them, and if the Cougars had failed, they would have been cursed to keep those animal forms for the rest of their lives.
Some had failed. Those who’d succeeded were able to take their human shapes again, free to shift between man and beast as they saw fit and as their descendants would be able to as well.
Floyd was under no such deadline. Nowadays, the only Cougar men who fell victim to the deadline were those who the goddess sent on mate hunts. They’d snatch their women up when they found them and hide the women away until they could convince them to agree, wholeheartedly, to be theirs.
Floyd had found his mate a long time ago, and she was in front of him.
He settled down on his belly and pulled his paws against his chest, watching her.
She revealed her other eye and watched him, too, for a while. Then she said in a whisper, “Did you eat my boyfriend?”
Really, Glen?
“I’m, uh…not really in need of any new pets right now,” she said, “so it’s okay if you just…go on back to where you came from.”
He’d be her pet, all right, if that was what she wanted. He’d do her bidding—be at her beck and call, serving her until the day he died, and in the days beyond, should he be lucky enough to go first. Cougars never left their true mates.
“God, Floyd, where’d you go? Why’d you leave me here?”
I’d never leave you alone. You should know that.
He growled at her, which made her draw back more.
Shit. Smooth move.
He eased back a bit to give her some space, but not too much. He wasn’t going anywhere. Shifting back to his man’s shape would probably go a long way in making Glen comfortable, but at the same time, he needed her to be more than her fear. She’d have to be strong and bold if she were going to have his children. She’d have to think on her feet and look at things in different ways.
She already knew there were witches in town. That knowledge could perhaps be the segue he needed. He could help her figure out that there were other things around that weren’t quite human.
He padded to the crate of supplies near the pallet and nosed off the lid.
With his teeth and one large paw, he shifted items around until he found a packet of his mother’s jalapeño beef jerky. Carefully, he picked it up between his teeth and carried it over to Glen. She needed something for breakfast.
He sat back on his haunches again and she stared at the bag.
“You…want me to open that for you?”
He gave his big head a side-to-side shake that seemed to take her aback. Most cats probably didn’t know English.
“Um.” She swallowed hard and nudged the bag closer. “I…didn’t think cats liked peppers, anyway. I…”
It’s for you, Glen.
She was the only one he knew, besides his mother, who ate that shit. The rest of the Foyes liked their jerky plain if they had to eat it at all. Fresh meat was always preferable.
She opened the bag slowly and reached a hand in. She tossed a piece of beef over his head and outside the cave.
“Go get it,” she said.
He would have rolled his eyes, but he’d never got the knack of the expression in his cat form.
Settling against the wall, he crossed his front legs and watched her.
She swallowed hard and dragged her tongue across her lips. “Don’t want it?”
Not going anywhere.
“I meant what I said about pets. We can hardly afford to feed ourselves. Ever heard of a bunch of cattle ranchers who eat more chicken than beef? Might as well be vegetarians at this point.” She sighed. “Why am I talking to a wildcat? And where the hell is Floyd?”
Floyd didn’t know what he could have been doing differently. He had pretty much the same personality in either form he took. His brain simply was more attuned to impulses rather than forward thinking when he was wearing his cat body. He was still Floyd—just furrier.
She shoved some jerky into her mouth and chewed for a while, never taking her eyes off him.
What would be doing right now if I looked like the man she knew?
Fucking, probably. That was out of the question for obvious reasons. And when they weren’t fucking, they were walking. He liked to point out little observations about nature he thought she should know in case she ever got lost, and she liked to get him caught up on all the gossip from town. She didn’t know that some of the people she talked about were Cougars. It’d always killed him to not be able to tell her that, “Oh, she’ll be okay in a couple of weeks. She’s crazy because she’s in heat,” or “Stay away from the Sheehans. They’re always stirring up shit in the glaring.”
Soon enough, he’d be able to tell her everything. He was going to turn her world upside down and hold her hand until she recovered from the shock of it all.
“Are you one of the creatures that’s been killing my daddy’s cattle?”
He hissed before he could tamp down the impulse.
The Foyes paid for everything they had, fair and square. Even in their cat forms, they generally maintained excellent control of their faculties, hissing aside.
“I take it you don’t like beef, huh?” Glen asked. “Otherwise, you probably would have grabbed the jerky. It’s good jerky. If Mrs. Foye didn’t hate me, I’d ask her what all she puts in it.”
Just ask her, Glen.
“She’s such a good cook,” Glen mused. “I guess she’d have to be, though. Those Foye men are damned picky. I don’t know how she puts up with them.”
Floyd huffed. He wasn’t picky at all. In fact, he even said “thank you” to his mother for the meals sometimes.
“Her grocery totals have to be astronomical.”
Floyd tried to nod, but he had to way of knowing if the motion had the intended effect. He didn’t have a human neck at the moment.
Sighing, Glen pulled another handful of jerky out of the bag. “It’d make going home with Floyd easier if she didn’t dislike me so much. I don’t know if I could endure it.”
That plaintive complaint made Floyd get to his feet and go to Glen.
She flinched when he sat in front of her, and he kept very still so she could see he wasn’t the thing she needed to fear.
If she had her wits about her, she’d figure that out soon enough. Once the fear went away, logic would sweep away her doubts and pave the way for revelations. He had to count on that. Glen was one of the most logical people he knew. Always had been, and ruthlessly so at times.
Glen pulled her knees against her chest and laughed softly. “She used to be really nice to me when I was little. I don’t know what happened.”
Fate happened.
Floyd was tempted to shift back so he could tell her. He’d always known Glen was his, and when he’d told his mother at age sixteen, she’d become afraid for him. She’d feared Floyd would be rejected and would spend the rest of his days pining away over a human woman who didn’t want him. A moping alpha would end up being a
dead
alpha, and no mother wanted that for her son.
Floyd would wait for Glen to come around. He had to.