Shiftr_Swipe Left for Love_Connor & Lauren Page 7
She stretched her legs out cautiously and felt solid ground. When he released her gently, she landed on the floor. He leapt in after her, and they stood, laughing and swiping the water from their wet faces. Her hair clung to her head like a helmet, dripping everywhere. It would be a nightmare when it dried out again.
“Wooh, that was a surprise,” Connor said.
“Yeah, it came from nowhere—” She broke off because his T-shirt was coming off, and that body was being revealed again.
He balled it up in his hand. “Can’t stand wearing wet clothes.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Does that mean the pants will be coming off, as well? His chest was wet, glistening, and she longed to run her hands all over it.
“Your shirt’s drenched, too,” he said.
“I can’t exactly take it off, though,” she said, regretting the words the second they were out of her mouth. His dark brown eyes were watching her very intensely.
With a burst of self-consciousness, she pushed her hair back. “I must look a state.”
He took a step forward. “You look more beautiful than ever,” he breathed. And suddenly his mouth was on hers again. This time he didn’t go slow. He pulled her against him, his lips melding to hers, his tongue probing deep into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his tight, tapered torso, and they clung to each other, steam rising from their bodies. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, over the curves of her hips, and she liberated her hands too, running them all over his bare skin, his flesh hot and slick beneath her eager fingers. He hooked his hands into the belt loops of her jeans, pulling her up, kissing her all over her face, her neck, sucking on her lips, like he couldn’t get enough of her. She moaned in pleasure, lost to the sensations.
His hands moved up and up. “This is getting in the way,” he growled, and before she knew it, her shirt was coming off. Her bra was wet too, and he cupped her big breasts, thumbs chafing her nipples through the damp fabric. “Lauren, you’re so sexy. I want you bad. Every inch of you.” His voice was deep, thick with his desire. He started to walk her backward, guiding her. She let him, lightheaded, stunned, but not wanting to lose contact with his velvety, slippery skin. He snatched kisses as they went, his mouth hot and tasting of coffee.
He guided her into another room, his bedroom. Blood pounded in her ears. It was finally going to happen. And she was terrified. But her need for him was stronger than her fear. She needed him right there—the spot between her thighs that was aching so bad. He was hard already, his damp jeans clinging to the outline of his swollen cock that pressed against her belly, proving his need for her.
The room was very dim with the windows boarded up. Leaving her beside the bed, he went to the corner and lit what looked like an oil lamp, which gave out a soft glow. There were bare log walls, a wooden floor with a couple of cow-hide rugs thrown on it, and the bed was made from wooden packing crates, with a mattress on top, which was covered with a clean-looking white comforter.
Connor returned to her and as his lips clung to hers again, his hand went to the zipper of her jeans. He eased it down, then gently pushed her onto the bed and shucked her pants all the way off. It was no easy task, the sodden fabric clinging to her full curves, and his fingers were impatient, but he was careful not to hurt her. She regretted wearing her plain black T-shirt bra and gray cotton panties, but the way he was looking at her, she could’ve been a lingerie model. He let off a deep rumble of appreciation, his eyes darkening with desire as he laid her back on the bed and arched over her. His mouth sought hers again, as his thick thighs pushed her legs apart. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down, impatient for the press of his body again. It felt so much better without their wet clothes, just the delicious glide of skin on skin.
He kissed a burning trail from the hollow at the base of her neck to the valley between her breasts, then along the edges of her bra. Each kiss delivered a starburst of pleasure until she was tingling all over, light-headed, hungry for more.
He reached behind her back, tugging at the clasp.
“Wait.” She slid her hand there to help him. Her bras were heavy-duty, not the easiest to get undone. He paused, drew back a little, and watched her remove her bra for him. Her breath hitched in her throat. As her brown nipples came into view, he let off a sound a lot like a purr. Then he slid his hands over her bare skin and gently caressed the aching peaks. Wow. They were sensitive. And when he dipped his head and flicked each one with the tip of his tongue, she almost hit the ceiling.
“Connor,” she whispered.
He lifted his head, brow creasing.
“Don’t stop.”
With a wicked grin, he dipped his head again and sucked her right nipple into his mouth. He cupped her other breast, softly circling the nipple. She gasped and writhed on the comforter, overwhelmed, wanting more. The weight of his torso was now between her thighs, and her hips made little jerks, eager to create more friction between them, to satisfy that deep, throbbing ache. His mouth began to head south, over the pillowy softness of her stomach. She tensed up—she couldn’t help it.
“Relax,” he murmured, as if he’d sensed the tautness in her body. His hands were hooking into the sides of her panties, and holy hell, they’re coming off. No guy had seen her like this before. Her instinct took over and she snatched at his hands, stopping him, and trying to wriggle away from him at the same time.
“I won’t hurt you,” he murmured, and he gently cupped her pussy.
“Oh!” she cried out.
“Is that okay?”
“Mmm, yes, very.”
He rose up again, keeping his mouth on hers, while he stroked her gently over her panties, soft back and forth movements, catching on her aching bud.
“You’re wet,” he said.
“I know.” She burst out laughing. What was she so scared of anyway?
Slowly, his hand slid down the front of her panties, caressing the patch of dark hair. She held herself still, half eager, half terrified, and when he finally touched her bare flesh, she jolted. “God,” she moaned. His big, callused hand stroked her, spreading her wetness all over, circling over her clit, until she dug her nails into his back.
“Inside,” she whispered. “I need you there.”
His finger was like liquid fire as he entered her. Wow. She clenched around him in little ripples. He added another finger, sliding in and out, making waves of pleasure roll through her body. Now she hooked her own hands into the waistband of her panties, desperate to get rid of them, give him more space to finger her like that. He helped her, tugging them all the way down, and then he spread her thighs wide, gazing at her. She squirmed in discomfort until he replaced his fingers, curling into her, stroking a very sensitive spot deep inside. When she thought she couldn’t take any more pleasure, he dipped his head and flicked his tongue across the tip of her clit. She gasped, and he followed it up with another lick, and then another. His tongue went back and forth, his lips sucking gently, while his fingers slid in and out. He was so skillful it was as if he understood her body. And the more he made his enjoyment evident, whispering how good she tasted, the more she relaxed, surrendering herself to the incredible sensations he was creating.
She pressed her fingertips against his buzzed scalp, keeping him right where he was. She didn’t want him to ever stop. But then the little spasms inside her got stronger and stronger and something started to build, like a gathering storm. Her hips jerked and she exploded, clenching around his fingers, waves of dizzy, sparkly bliss rushing through her body, all the way to her fingers and toes.
He didn’t stop until she was done and her body slackened. She dropped her arms to her sides, too heavy to hold up any longer. He climbed up the bed and took her into his arms. “Lauren,” he whispered into her hair, and she sensed his care for her, how much he’d wanted to satisfy her. There was tenderness in his touch now although his cock was harder than ever, pressing into her thigh, begging to be freed from his pants.
“You made me come. A lot,” she whispered, reaching for him. He gasped when her hand grazed the front of his pants, and his cock seemed to swell even larger. But in another second, he pulled away, trapping her hand in his.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“I can’t mate you.”
“It’s okay. I want you to. I’m not nervous anymore.”
“It’s not that.”
“Come on. I’m so ready for you, Connor. You’re driving me crazy!”
In a sudden movement, he sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, and the loss of contact with his skin made her shiver. “Lauren, please don’t ask. I wanted to touch you, taste you. Can’t that be enough?”
Surprise stunned her into silence, but she recovered fast. “No, Connor. It isn’t. Because I want to make you feel good like you made me feel.”
His face closed down, and she had the impression he was moments from running. She pulled herself up onto her knees, wrapping the comforter around her. “No, you don’t. You started this. You don’t get to leave me hanging again. Tell me right now why you don’t want to have sex with me!”
He scrubbed at his forehead with the palm of his hand.
“Come on. However bad it is, I want to her it.”
He turned his head and gazed at her miserably. “You don’t understand.”
“I know, you keep telling me that! What don’t I understand?”
“I can’t date. Or mate.” He let out a slow, rumbling groan. “There’s something bad in my blood.”
“What? You mean a genetic disease?” she probed.
“No. It’s not that.” He released a long breath. “I’m not all bear. I’m part wolverine. And it means I can’t be faithful. Wolverines are one of the few shifter species that don’t mate for life. They go from one female to another. My dad was always cheating on my mom. He felt bad about it afterwards, but he said he couldn’t help it. It’s that nasty thread of wolverine that goes back generations and can’t be extinguished. He broke my mom’s heart so many times, and I think she died of it in the end. My brother’s a cheater, too. That’s why I don’t speak to either of them anymore.
Lauren felt like a balloon that had just been pricked. “Have you cheated on girlfriends?” she asked.
He clenched his jaw. “I’ve never had girlfriends. And that’s why. I don’t ever want to cause anyone the pain my dad caused my mom.”
“I believe cheating is a choice people make.”
“I’m not just a person, Lauren. I’m driven more by my animal instincts than you realize. The urge to mate is a very powerful one. And usually, in shifters, it’s a good thing. It means loyalty to a single mate. But in wolverines it’s different. They’re wild. Their urge is to mate with many females.”
She looked at him for a long time. What more could she say? “I guess I should go.”
“Please don’t hate me, Lauren.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You just wish you hadn’t gotten involved with a guy who can’t control himself.”
“Yes, I guess so. I have a bad history. That’s all.” Her heart sinking to her boots, Lauren got up, put on her underwear, and started the difficult task of wrestling her wet jeans back on.
“Want to borrow something to wear?”
“Nuh-uh.” She swore to herself as she tugged them up her legs. She felt Connor’s eyes on her, sensed the sorrow in his gaze, but she stayed silent. She didn’t even know if she had the right to be mad at him. All she knew was she needed to get away from him.
At last she was capable of closing her zipper. She slipped on her shoes and headed out of the bedroom and toward the front door, pausing to collect her shirt from the floor and pull it on. Connor didn’t follow. The urge to look back at him was strong, but she kept going.
It was still raining, but not so heavily now. She stopped her car at the end of the dirt track to send the photos to Kristin. They were fine actually, despite the crappy light.
Connor a cheater? If that was true, there really were no good men in the world, she thought as she reached the sanctuary of her apartment. He was the strongest, kindest guy she’d ever met. And when they were together, he made her feel like the only girl in the world. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe that’s what shifters do. Now she felt stupid for thinking he had understood her body. He’d probably had one-night stands with hundreds of women.
What did she know about shifters anyway? Tamika was always going on about how shifters made great mates because they mated for life and how she had never trusted a guy until she met her wolf mate, Kyle. But wolverines? Lauren barely knew what one was. Gingerly, she took out her phone, googled it, and discovered a lithe, cunning-looking animal. She suppressed a shudder. She liked the thought of a bear. Big, powerful, solid, dependable. These slippery critters, not so much.
At least Connor had told her now. Yes, he’d given her the most crazy, intense orgasm she could imagine, one that had made her body zing from head to toe and hunger for him like a wild woman. But he hadn’t taken her virginity, then cheated on her. There was that. She peeled off her clothes yet again and hit the shower, turning the water on scalding hot. Although, the way her body felt now, maybe she should’ve made him take her. So she could remember that one beautiful, hot moment with him forever.
She turned her back to the jet of water, letting it pummel her tense shoulders. No. Because he would’ve hated himself. And he didn’t deserve that.
She didn’t hate him. He’d driven her crazy, but he’d made her feel truly desirable for the first time in her life. She’d remember him fondly for that. But she never wanted to see him again.
9
Connor charged through the wet forest, his claws ripping up the sodden earth, nostrils seeking out the odor of Ryzard and the other ungrateful members of his ragtag clan.
Moron. He shouldn’t have let any of that happen. Starting with when he made that numbskull decision to pick Lauren up and carry her out of the storm. What the hell was that? He snarled. He knew what it was. He’d been dying to hold her feisty, vulnerable self in his arms since he’d first laid eyes on her.
And then he didn’t have to kiss her or start ripping his clothes off. After that it was inevitable he was going to taste her. He lost control of himself for a moment, and all he could think about was pleasuring her. Thank goodness nothing worse happened. His bear was tearing him up, pushing him to claim her, his cock aching like a hot rod. But he reined it back. He forced himself to think of that slimy wolverine in his past that had screwed everything up. Lauren deserved the best. And he couldn’t give her that. But now he’d hurt her. He was so mad at himself he wanted to butt heads with something unyielding, like a tree trunk.
Instead, he was going to go sort his clan out once and for all. He was never going to find a mate for himself, and for better or worse, they were all he had.
He unleashed a wild roar that rang through the trees. It was the signal to come together. Logan appeared first, and as Connor shifted back into his human form, he followed, his furry black hide replaced by the stocky body of a man.
“How did it go?” he asked. Then his nostrils quivered as he inhaled deeply, picking up the scent of Lauren off of Connor’s skin. “Pretty well from where I’m standing.”
“Stop,” Connor said, and before Logan could say anything else, Leigh, Dalton, Ryder, and Timo burst from the undergrowth, shifting quickly and regarding Connor with concern.
“What’s going on, boss?” Timo said.
“I’m not putting up with this crap any longer, that’s all,” Connor growled. “I’ve been way too tolerant of that cretin, Ryzard. Letting him run wild like this and create his own faction like he’s a two-year-old cub, destabilizing the clan.”
“You know we’re on your side, Connor,” Logan said. “We know how much you’ve done for us.”
The others nodded.
“I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for you,
bro,” Ryder said.
“Same here,” Timo added.
“I’m with you,” Leigh said. “You know I might go back to the mountains someday, but I’m always here for you.”
Connor nodded, understanding. Leigh was the most reclusive of all of them. It had taken a lot to persuade him to join the clan, but he valued the protection it gave him, and they valued his brute strength and tireless appetite for work.
“You can count on me,” Dalton said. “I’ll be grateful to you for as long as I live.”
“Let’s pledge on it,” Logan said, holding his fist out, and all the other bears piled their hands on top.
“Brothers forever!” they roared.
“Now. Let me get my hands on that fool,” Connor said and shifted into his bear form again.
It didn’t take them long to catch up with Ryzard, Olsen, and Niall. They followed a sour smell of cheap beer which led to the three of them, lounging on a bunch of broken deckchairs in a clearing in the forest, with a mountain of empty beer cans stacked in the center like a shrine to stupidity. They weren’t even wearing clothes, but were sitting around butt-naked for any passing humans to find them. Ryzard was detailing how he was going to take down every human who crossed his path, and the others were cheering him on.
With a roar, Connor went straight for Ryzard, snatching up the deckchair in his teeth, and hurling it into the distance, sending Ryzard flying with it.
Ryzard was too full of beer to react and lay where he’d landed, staring up at Connor in brainless surprise. Logan, Leigh, and Ryder copied Connor, hauling the others off their chairs too, and tossing them on top of the beer cans in a tangle of bodies. Then the five bears on Connor’s side stood around Ryzard’s crew, snarling, daring them to retaliate.
When he was satisfied they weren’t going anywhere, Connor took on his human form again and stood, hands on hips, staring them down until they were forced to look away.
“This is your idea of better leadership, Ryzard? Sitting out here like a bunch of rednecks?” he roared. “Have any of you come up with a genius plan for saving the homes we’re been busting our asses to build? Or are you just getting wasted and hoping someone else is going to fix it for you?”