ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (210 page)

“I’m sorry?” I asked; unsure of what I was apologizing for or if I really was.

That was the breaking point, in the blink of an eye she changed, burst from her skin and turned into something I couldn’t even to have begun to believe. From her body, stood on a pile of clothes was a tiger. It was vibrantly orange, majestic but above all else massive. The looming beast took a step forward, stalking towards me. This time I stumbled backwards, she was a tiger, a tiger. My bear reacted much faster than I could have and freed itself from my own bindings. In the middle of the jungle, in the whitest of rooms imaginable we stood; tiger and bear, facing off against each other.

Chapter Eight

The tiger opened her mouth to reveal a set of pearl white teeth, so bright that they even stood out in the color-less room. I knew now why she hadn’t told me, why nobody had told me what she really was. Tigers weren’t just feared in the human world; in our world they were notoriously short tempted, protective of what they wanted and fierce when they needed to be. I could name a hundred people that would have run but I wasn’t one of them, I didn’t back down, my bear wasn’t afraid of our tigress. No, if anything I was more attracted to her, my crazy tiger of a wife and oh yes she was definitely crazy.

My bear growled as the tiger leapt towards me, I was experienced now and I dodged her jump with ease. Just because I was bigger than her it didn’t mean that I was slower as well. She growled in annoyance as I danced around her, moving around her attacks with an ease unbefitting of my large black bear. I angled my moves, slowly getting closer and closer to her, just where I wanted to be. But no, it wasn’t going to be that easy, not by a mile. Out of nowhere she leaped, catching my shoulder and pulling me down to the floor. She stood above, her teeth bared in my face and all I could do was smile back at her, the goofiest bear smile I could muster.

Another growl passed through her lips, fierce enough to make the hairs on my body stand on end but not enough to wipe the beaming smile off my face. She had checked the mystery box with the biggest of ticks but the normal box had definitely been left long forgotten. But did I really want normal? Who settles for normal? Normal was just an excuse to fit into a routine that nobody really wanted.  Taking my chance I flipped her body over and pinned her tiger beneath my paws. There was no escape now, no way to break free from my ironclad grasp. Before my eyes the beautiful orange shade of her fur disappeared and in its place was the red I had grown to like.

“You can’t challenge a bear,” I said as I let my fur slowly return skin and my human features take its place. She turned her head away from me, clearly angry that she couldn’t over-power me.

“You’re crazy, you know that right?” I questioned, laughing a little as the words came out. She turned to me now, her face every bit that of a tigers as her eyes, so perfectly blue bore into mine in a way that only hers ever could.

“And you’re a beast,” she spat back, clearly failing to find anything better to say. I couldn’t help but to burst into laughter now, she was fiery, that was for sure.

“A tiger huh? When exactly was I going to find out what I had gotten myself into?” I asked curiously, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I thought long and hard and I figured about now would be a good idea,” she said, meeting my smile with a teasing grin.

“And why not before? Our little dinner meeting perhaps?” I asked sarcastically, trying to contain the laughter that was trying to break free again.

“Ah, about that, I figured it would be better if I stayed quiet,” she said teasingly, turning her head away from me.

Releasing my grip on Jasmine slightly I used my hand to cup her sun-kissed cheek and turn it gently back to me. Her eyes widened slightly as I brought them to meet my own, inside them burned all the ferocity that remained from her tiger, it was more than just and echo. I didn’t hesitate to capture her lips with my own, claiming them for myself. She stilled for a second before deepening the kiss pushing all of her pent up frustration into my lips. Her lips tasted every bit as sweet as I had imaged them too, so much so that the feeling overwhelmed me.

The animal instinct that I had inside of me took over and I pushed down roughly against her mouth, claiming every bit of the uniquely exquisite taste for myself. My hands went to her arms; my fingers trailed up her bare bronze skin and slowly lifted them above her head. So soft, so delicate other than her fiery hair her body showed no hint of what lay so dangerously beneath. I twisted her hands together and placed them above her wild mass of red hair. She moaned against my rough lips as I let my finger trail back down her skin, feeling every part of it that I could. 

“Crazy,” I muttered as I finally pulled away from her mouth, I was breathless but it was far too soon. I missed the feeling of her immediately, the electric sensation that her lips on my own caused.

“Absolutely beautifully crazy,” I whispered as I lifted her chin gently, giving me full access to her neck. I pressed a kiss down on the exposed skin and then another and another, I couldn’t help myself. As Jasmine squirmed beneath me with each sensual press of my lips I knew that the familiar tight sensation in my body was returning.

I was aroused, aroused beyond belief as the beautiful perfect naked body of my wife shifted beneath me. Everything about her sent my blood racing, just the slight breaths that made her chest rise and fall made my body heat up. I cupped her breasts now feeling them fill my palms completely, unable to show even the slightest bit of restraint. She groaned loudly as I cupped her, leaning up to meet me eyes, showing me the lust that filled her own. I let the growl fall freely from my lips as she claimed them, showing me what she wanted as she explored my mouth, teasingly, temptingly.

Jasmine’s sweet scent filled me; it reminded me of the forest and of what I truly was. I pulled away from her lips, a regrettable move that could not be helped. It only lasted a second; one tortuous second, before I pulled her on top of me, rested her curvy body on top of my own toned chest. My hands went instantly to her sides, to her perfect curves and I found myself tracing them, feeling each beautiful groove.

Her fingers twisted into my hair as she looked down at me, bringing her lips closer but just far enough that I couldn’t reach up and meet them. My body shuddered as she licked them temptingly; removing a hand from my tangled mass of blonde she placed it lustfully on my side. Her touch, so sensual and passionate made me freeze. She knew what I wanted and I could feel the desire pulsing through her body, so ready and so wanting. I moved my hips quickly and watched her mouth drop open, her eyes widen and a moan that was so perfect fall gracefully from her ruby red lips. 

……

“Where do we go from here?” Jasmine questioned as morning began to break over the dense jungle. I watched the sun slowly rise from behind the canopy of trees, a prefect view from the house, our house. I could definitely learn to love this place, the beauty only had one earthly rival and my hands were snaked around her bare waist.

“What do you mean my crazy crazy wife?” I said chuckling slightly as I watched her eyebrows rise in a questioning look.

“Maybe you should try to tame me then,” she said in her unique teasing voice, one that caused goose-bumps to form on my skin. 

“Whoever heard of a person trying to tame a tigress?” I said softly as I watched her eyes swirl with the blue I already loved.

“Then perhaps you would have better luck trying to out run me?” she said, catching me off guard. Her body shifted away from my own and she was gone, just a flash of orange that disappeared into the jungle.

“You definitely need the head start my dear,” I shouted after my wife. Normal was overrated anyway. 

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BONUS

MATED TO THE

COWBOY WEREWOLF

By Sicily Duval

Chapter 1

I looked up at the clock above the door. It was just before midnight. Warren wouldn’t be back until morning, but still I couldn’t sleep and I waited anxiously for him. It was going to be a long night.

I walked to the balcony that looked over Central Park. Sheep Meadow was dark, with the clumps of trees black shadows that interrupted the dark span of grass. I looked up at the night sky. The moon was like a pale disk in the sky. I held my palm flat and lifted it up until it looked like I held the moon in my hand. I’d already worn out redoing my gel nails, checking my bottle-blond hair for regrowth and split ends, plucking my eyebrows.

Tonight was the second night. One more night I would spend alone, and then he’d be back. He’d left yesterday afternoon and he was only coming back tomorrow. This had happened every month since we’d gotten married, and I didn’t know if I would ever get used to it. 

When we’d gotten married just three months he’d asked me the night before if I still wanted to do this. He was a werewolf, and even though he would never let me see his wolf or witness the change – something I was inwardly grateful for but would never admit to him – he was still worried this was a life I wouldn’t want.

How could I explain to him what he means to me? How could I tell him that he was the only reason I got up in the morning in a way he would understand? The one true promise I had when I went to bed at night?

We’d met a year and a half ago at my best friend’s Christmas party. Sandra had parties every year and everyone who didn’t have family to spend Christmas with attended. She’d met him at the butchery that day, and invited him spontaneously. He hadn’t spent Christmas with his family because they were in Montana. He’d come to New York on business.

Most love stories I knew about were where two people met, fell in love, dated a while, and then finally decided this was what they could do for the rest of their lives. So many of my high school friends were married with children now, and that was how it had worked for them. But there was the exception every now and then, where a man and a woman met, and they knew it right away. They’d found the one.

It had been like that with Warren.

It hadn’t mattered that he was a rancher from Montana with three day stubble on his chin and jeans that were faded on the knees when I’d arrived in Christian Louboutins and the classic black dress with pearls around my neck. When I’d seen him standing there between all the New Yorkers, lost and impossibly foreign, it was like I’d come home. You searched your whole life for the missing piece of your puzzle, fitting everyone you met for a match. And when I met Warren I’d told myself ‘there he is’.

He’d gone back to Montana a week later, with the promise that he would return and make me his wife.

And he’d done just that. It had taken months; there had been troubles with his ranch and then a family tragedy. But I’d waited for him, knowing he wouldn’t forget me. And three months ago he came and we’d run away to Reno to get married immediately.

“Because there’s no way I’m letting anything get in the way of me and you being together forever, ever again,” he’d said and kissed me until I’d melted in my shoes.

I made myself some tea and sat down on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around me.

My parents had been horrified I’d married in court. It had been my mother’s dream to have a big white wedding for me they could write about in the papers. My dream was that I found the man that completed me. It was more important that I’d gotten what I wanted rather than her.

Two days, Warren had told me. Two nights of full moon where he couldn’t stop or control the change. He needed to get out of the city so he wouldn’t be spotted. No matter how many people knew about mythical creatures and believed they were real, seeing one and believing one was still two completely different things.

After the two days were over and I would be able to wrap my arms around him again, we would make the long trip to Montana, to his home.

My phone rang and I looked at the caller ID. Who phoned this late at night?

“Edith, sweetheart, you’re not serious about leaving, are you?” It was my mother.

“You’re calling very late,” I pointed out.

“I drove past your apartment on the way back from a business do with your father and I saw your light was on. Warren is very rough around the edges. What kind of life do you think he’ll be able to give you over there?”

I sighed. “I don’t really care, mom,” I said. “As long as I’m with him, I’m happy. Surely you felt like that about daddy too, at some point in your life?”

There was silence for a moment.

“I just don’t think you’re thinking about this. You’re a city girl. Your life is here. How are you going to fit in on a farm where you don’t know anyone?” She’d avoided my question. I knew she would.

“It’s a ranch. And a lot of people make new lives. I’ll know Warren, and he said his family is so excited to meet me.”

“That’s another thing. What kind of man marries a woman without his family even knowing who she is or where she comes from?”

“Not everyone is so worried about bloodlines and heritage, mom,” I said. My mom had been horrified that his family hadn’t even met me. Of course we hadn’t given them enough time to get here before we ran off and got married. My mother would never forgive me that she wasn’t present. But to be honest, I just didn’t care. The only person I’d needed there was Warren, and he’d been there.

“Warren isn’t coping in the city. He tries, he really does. But this life isn’t for him.”

“And farming life is for you?”

“Ranching, mom. And yes, that’s something I’m willing to risk for him. I love him.”

My mom groaned. “Yes, you’ve said that. Well, I hope for your sake you’re making the right choices.”

“I’m twenty six, mom. I’ve been by myself now for five years. I’m sure I’ve got ‘life decisions’ down.

“If you say so, darling. I’m going to hang up. Your father pulled into the garage and you know how cranky he gets when he doesn’t get to bed.”

We ended the conversation and I glanced at the time. The call had only killed ten minutes.

The fact was that I was terrified to go to Montana with Warren. But I loved him more than I was scared, and that counted for something.

I woke up on the couch the next morning, with the sound of the shower running. I’d dozed off in front of the television somewhere around three o’clock. I smiled and padded to the bathroom on bare feet. When I pushed it open the steam hung like a thick cloud in the air and rolled around my lungs when I breathed in. I dropped my slacks and pulled my tank top over my head, and pushed the shower door open. I stepped into the warm water and Warren’s arms wrapped around me. The rivulets of water streamed down my back, sparkling pearls of water rested in his dark brown hair. My skin pressed against his, my body memorizing his imprint. He tipped my head up and I got lost in his dark eyes before  he kissed me.

“I missed you,” I said between kisses.

“I missed you too.”

His body was hard and muscled against mine. The Warren I knew and loved. I ran my hands over his skin, but he flinched. I looked up at him and he grinned sheepishly.

“The change makes me sensitive. It will be gone before the end of the day.”

I remembered he’d told me he healed fast. I put my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, the sound of the water around us locking us in a small cocoon that I didn’t want to leave.

The flight from JFK International Airport to Butte, Montana, was 8 hours and twenty minutes with a stopover in Salt Lake City, Denver. Our flight left at midnight. It wasn’t lost on me how much midnight suddenly had to do with everything since I’d met Warren.

I’d booked the tickets for us, and booked the vegetarian meal for myself for breakfast. We would eat just before we landed.

The flight was uncomfortable and I didn’t sleep much at all. Warren was out cold without a care in the world and I was left alone to struggle with nerves.

The sun finally rose. On the windows to the left of the plan the sky was drenched in golden pink. On the right hand side the darkness was still completely. By the time my breakfast arrived I wasn’t hungry. Warren had woken up and he wolfed down his food like he hadn’t eaten in years.

“That was great,” he said when the stewardess took the tray away from him. When he looked at me he frowned and it felt like for the first time since before the full moon, he finally slowed down long enough to really notice me.

“I’m terrified,” I said in a paper thin voice.

His face softened and his eyes became warm, the way they did when I was the center of his universe.

“They’re going to love you.”

“How do you know?”

He smiled. “Because I love you. And to them, that’s reason enough. They trust my judgment.”

There was so much more to it, but how was I going to explain to him that it wasn’t just about them loving me? That it was about me loving them? I didn’t know if the life that lay before me was one that I wanted. Or was a life that wanted me.

Warren took my hand in his, and it disappeared in the size of it. He squeezed it, which was supposed to be reassuring, and I smiled back at him, trying to look confident.

When we landed it was just after eight. The sky was a different color than the New York sky I knew, and when I breathed in my chest contracted with the unknown.

“Come on, my mom’s here to pick us up.” He picked up his bag and mine, and walked toward the exit. From behind him I looked at my bag under his arm. The sum total of my life fit into a small suit case. Everything I’d owned in the City had stayed behind because he had a life here, in Montana, that I was to fit into. I suppressed a lump of panic was that rising in my throat.

A faded green Volkswagen waited for us outside the airport, and the woman that peeled out of it when we arrived was short and wider than she was tall.

“Oh, there you two are!” she said and attached herself to Warren.

“Hey mom,” he said, hugging her back. She had shoulder-length strawberry blond hair that hung around her face without style. She had dim green eyes and freckles that all seemed like it was just… there.

“You must be Edit, oh my gosh you’re even prettier than he said. Isn’t he just a lucky fellow to have you.”

She hugged me with the same enthusiasm, and when her arms were wrapped around me and I was squeezed in tightly between her doughy arms and her oversized chest she smelled of farm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Brickley,” I said, detaching myself from her.

“Oh would you listen to her, all proper. Just call me mom.”

Mom? I didn’t know if I could.

“You can call her Margot,” Warren said. I had an idea he was sensing my distress and I was relieved he’d jumped in.

We climbed into the Volkswagen. Warren offered to take the backseat, but I wasn’t ready for such an intimate gathering with Margot, so he ended up next to her instead. It was about an hour’s drive, their ranch was some distance outside Butte. And Margot talked the whole way.

“The ranch hasn’t been the same without you. Silas will be so happy to know you’re back.” She looked over her shoulder, addressing me. “The ranch manager is very unhappy. I just deal with tourists, usually. The cows and sheep and all that just don’t work for me, don’t you know?”

Tourists. Warren had mentioned something about taking on visitors year-round to show them ranch life. It brought in a lot of extra cash, he’d said, and they took on some of the work as well. I couldn’t imagine going on a vacation where I had to work, but to each his own.

Chapter 2

The ranch was beautiful. It was situated in a valley between the mountains, with snow-capped peaks rising up on both sides and wide green pastures scattered like pieces of cloth all around the ranch house.

It was long and low, peeking out from underneath a red roof. Around it small cottages were scattered with pathways tying it all to the main drive way. The front porch was made of wood with pillars that reached up the roof, and chairs and benches were set up so people could sit down and enjoy the view.

The front door led into a large kitchen with reddish tiles polished until they gleamed and a long table.

Warren took our bags through the kitchen, the adjacent lounge and down a long passage to a room at the very end. It was large with log-furniture. A big king-sized bed stood in the middle of the room, made with a patchwork quilt.

“This is like it’s from a book,” I breathed.

“Do you like it?” Warren asked and when I turned to look at him his face was a mix of uncertainty and expectance. He really wanted me to like it.

“I love it,” I said. A smile split his face apart and offered me a grin that made the lie worth it.

“Do any of the guests stay in the house?” I asked. We’d passed a couple of rooms on our way to the main bedroom, but Warren shook his head.

“No, those were the rooms we grew up in. My brothers’ and sister’s and mine. The guests stay in the cottages around the house.”

I remembered he’d mentioned two brothers and a sister. They worked on neighboring ranches and his sister lived in Butte with a husband and children.