So Much To Bear: Shifting Devotions (Werebear Erotic Romance) (5 page)

The clubhouse was an abandoned, derelict-looking warehouse with scrapped cars and construction equipment scattered around it. The rest of the people in the van filed in and Damon followed, uncertain of what he would discover—and feeling the first tingles of fear. There were a handful more people inside the building, and the man who had helped him break free of the jail—who identified himself finally as Tanner—brought Damon up to the obvious leader.

Vernon introduced himself with a stoic nod to Tanner and a muttered thank-you, and Damon took in the man slowly. He was of the same type as the rest of the gang—tall, heavy-set, with thick, snarling hair and unearthly-looking eyes, wearing dark, beaten leathers for a motorcycle, and a Kevlar-lined jacket, the reek of musk and animal clinging to him. He had a few scars on his face and the patchy stubble on his cheeks was grizzled, black, brown, gray, and blond. More than just age, Vernon had a kind of confidence that Damon had seen in the leadership of his own clan—an air that made it easy to believe that he had won his right to call the shots by way of battles won. “Tanner says he spotted a tattoo on you, mind if I take a look?” Vernon asked.

Damon rolled up his sleeve further and the man’s eyes widened slightly. “Never thought I’d catch sight of one of those again in my life,” he said with an easy smile.

“You’ve seen this before?” Damon asked, startled. The man nodded slowly.

“Tell me about yourself, kid.” Damon hesitated for only a moment; but the fact that he’d identified the people in the van with him as shifters—and they couldn’t be anything else, not with the musk scent and not with the power they’d displayed—set him more at ease than he would have been with anyone other than Jennifer.

Damon explained about the clan he had grown up among, the fact that they’d all slowly died off—killed either by old age or by hunters looking for bear trophies, or distrustful members of the community that stumbled onto the secret enclave of shifters. The man spoke little, nodding every so often, paying full attention to what Damon had to say. When he finished with his story he fell silent for a moment before adding, “You said you’ve seen this tattoo before. You know about my clan?” The man smiled slightly.

“Kid, I used to be part of your clan.” Damon stared at the man in shock. “In fact, most of us in this gang were part of your tribe back in the day; we’re all bear shifters like you.”

“But you don’t have the same tattoo,” Damon pointed out, frowning slightly; he had seen the variety of different patterns on the men—and on their leader. None of them matched up to the tribe identifying marking that he himself possessed. The leader shrugged.

“We broke with them—so none of us kept our markings. We changed them around, or covered them up, or had them removed.”

“Why did you leave?” The leader looked away for a moment and sighed.

“Differences in opinion.” The man rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and showed a tattoo that looked strikingly similar—though not exactly the same—as Damon’s. “There you can see. I changed mine the least of all of us. In spite of everything, I remember what I owe the clan, even if I had to go a separate way.” Damon felt a surge of relief; knowing he wasn’t alone in the world, that there were other were-bears, was one thing. Objectively he had to assume that he was not entirely alone. But to meet not only other shifters of his kind, but people who had once belonged to the same group as he—that was another kind of relief, an almost homelike sensation that he had missed for long before he had met Jennifer.

“What do you guys do?” Damon saw the other members of the gang in little groups, talking and joking, some of them drinking beers. The leader glanced out over the group and smiled slightly—a perfunctory twitch of his lips.

“We broke with the clan because we thought it was bullshit to have to hide away from humans. We’re not stupid animals—we’re stronger, faster, better than regular humans. You’ve seen how humans react to us—you were attacked. The part of the clan that stayed behind, except you, were all killed.” Damon nodded. “We’re predators, and we’re proud of what we are. We don’t skulk around in forests. We use what we have to take what we want and need.” Damon felt a surge of pride—to not have to hide who he was, to be among people who understood what it meant to be a bear and a man; it was like water on a hot, dry day. “We’d like for you to join us. We’ve had a few people from the clan in the past join our ranks; you’d be welcome here as our kin.” Damon considered it—he wanted it so badly. But he couldn’t help but think of Jennifer—she might not, as a regular human, be welcome among this tribe. “We’ll give you 24 hours to decide,” Vernon said, when Damon hesitated.

“I’ll think about it, for sure.” Vernon lifted his hand in a signal to a few of the other men of the group. Damon had, in the course of telling the man his life story, mentioned Jennifer—and the fact that she had brought him to the city, that she was helping him get on his feet. He hadn’t mentioned her status as a non-shifter.

“Take the kid back to his pad,” Vernon told the few men who approached at his signal. “Make sure he knows how to get in touch.”

Chapter Five

Jennifer was pacing the short stretch of carpet from the bathroom to the edge of the bed, trying to decide how she should go about looking for Damon. He had been gone for hours; she had checked with the front desk, asked them to ask the housekeeping person who’d come by to clear the room. It had been around noon when the woman had come by, and it was now eight o’clock at night. Jennifer, starving, had devoured a box of snack crackers and a can of tuna. She hadn’t wanted to leave on the chance that while she was getting dinner, Damon might return to find the room empty.

Just as she had decided that she would have to contact the police—though she knew that he would have to be gone for 24 hours for a missing person’s report to be filed—Jennifer heard a click-thunk from the door. The knob turned, and the next moment, Damon was walking in, smiling broadly. “Damon!” Jennifer said, her voice leaving her in an almost-shriek. “Oh my God, I was so worried! What happened?” Damon let the door fall shut behind him and scooped her up into his arms in a quick, liquid movement, pressing her body to his and kissing her hungrily on the lips.

“Just a misunderstanding,” Damon said, his lips barely breaking away from hers. “God, it’s good to see you.” His hands moved over her body in quick, devastating movements, caressing and teasing her, slipping up underneath her clothes. He ducked his head to the side, kissing and nibbling along the column of her throat. He carried her towards the bed and let her fall carefully onto the soft surface, covering her body immediately with his own.

For a moment, Jennifer was surprised; Damon had always been enthusiastic, but he had never been quite so direct, always making his overtures for sex in the form of slowly building caresses, leaving her to escalate the tension between them until he made his move to make love to her. Damon began to strip her clothes away, peeling her shirt away from her skin and tugging it over her head, lifting her up to unhook her bra at the back. Jennifer was startled, but the touch of Damon’s body against hers, the taste of his lips, her relief at his return, all made it easy for her to find herself getting more and more turned on by the moment. She began to respond to him, kissing along his neck and shoulders, running her fingers through his hair, unbuttoning his shirt with fumbling, impatient fingers.

Damon had somehow managed to strip her down to nothing more than her panties before she could fully manage to get his shirt off, and Jennifer found herself distracted, moaning, as he cupped her already-wet pussy, rubbing the heel of his palm against her slick folds, sending a mild tingling pleasure crackling along her nerves. He kissed her again and again until Jennifer was breathless, his free hand moving over her body in a demanding caress, stroking and teasing her until she was so turned on she couldn’t think anymore. She wasn’t sure how she managed to rid herself of the irritation of Damon’s shirt, but in an instant his skin was pressed up against hers, hot to the touch, so much so that she almost thought she might be burned—certainly he felt as hot as a normal person with an intense fever. Damon nipped and nibbled along her throat, her collarbones, the tops of her breasts, while he rubbed her clit firmly through the thin fabric of her panties, making her wetter and wetter.

Jennifer gasped, startled, as Damon’s touch abruptly left her; he slipped out of the bed nimbly, landing on his feet in near-silence and standing before her, his tattoos almost seeming to glow in the yellow light of the motel room. He unbuttoned and unzipped his fly quickly and Jennifer’s mouth watered as he tugged his jeans down over his hips, taking his underwear with them, stripping naked for her delighted eyes. His cock sprung free of the tight confines of his clothes, hard and fully erect; Jennifer licked her lips and sat up, the impulse to touch him, to taste him, filling her mind. Damon stopped her short of leaning in to wrap her fingers around the base of his cock, instead lifting her up easily into his arms and bringing her mouth up to his, kissing her with a devouring hunger.

He shifted her against his body, draping her legs around his waist and Jennifer let out a moan at the feeling of his hot, hard cock brushing against her slick folds, teasing her with a barely-there caress. Damon carried her a few feet and Jennifer felt her back pressing against a wall, Damon’s weight crushing against her slightly—not enough for discomfort, just enough for her to feel secure that she wasn’t going to come tumbling down. “I missed you,” he murmured, nipping sharply at her ear. Jennifer let out a little cry of pleasure, arching against him, writhing with the need to feel him inside of her. “Did you miss me?”

“I was worried sick!” Jennifer kissed his lips lightly. “But you’re okay, right?” Damon nodded.

“More than okay. But I have to have you, right now. Do you want me, Jenny?” Jennifer nodded, and then Damon was thrusting his hips up against hers, pushing his cock into her slowly. He filled her inch by inch whilst she tightened her thighs around him, twisting her body, shifting down against the wall to meet his thrust. Damon paused for just a moment when their bodies were absolutely flush, their hips aligned, his cock buried deep inside of her, twitching slightly—he was as turned on as she was, if not more so. Jennifer gasped again as Damon began moving the next instant; he fell into a hard, fast rhythm, and Jennifer found herself responding to it immediately, pushing her hips down to meet him, her hands trailing over his muscled back and shoulders, her lips moving to kiss him wherever she could reach. She was moaning, crying out, her body heating up, hotter and hotter with every moment.

Damon shifted against her and Jennifer buried her face against his neck as the change in position brought the tip of his cock up against her g-spot—not quite striking it, but rubbing it consistently with every rocking thrust of his hips. She could hear the sounds of their lovemaking filling the room—their gasps and panting, their moans, the muted thudding of Damon’s weight against the wall as he pounded into her. In moments, it seemed—she lost all track of time—she was on the edge of orgasm, as Damon’s pelvis rubbed up against her clit with every movement, his cock rubbing her inner walls, stroking her pleasure center with every other thrust.

All at once, Jennifer felt her entire body tensing as the first waves of pleasure hit her, crashing through her nervous system in a rush of sensation so strong she almost blacked out. Damon rode through her climax, holding himself back—barely—until the last of the spasms began to abate. Jennifer felt his cock twitching inside of her and then, as he groaned out lowly in her ear, felt the sticky-slick flood of his come rushing into her in spurts that felt so good inside of her already-tingling body that she almost reached orgasm again.

Damon staggered backward from the wall, carrying her easily but with stumbling steps back to the bed. They tumbled down together, panting, and Jennifer laughed as she curled into his heat, slick with sweat but so immensely satisfied and so relieved at his return that for a long moment all she could do was bask in the closeness.

As she came back to herself slowly, Jennifer smiled as Damon’s hands trailed over her body, more comforting than demanding, and when she pulled back to look up at him he kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’m sorry I worried you,” Damon said, smiling ruefully. “I guess you were right about the city being different.” Jennifer shrugged.

“I’m just glad you’re safe and back. I was about to call the police and ask them to look for you.” Damon’s unearthly eyes shifted and he looked away for a moment, a fleeting expression of shame on his features.

“You probably shouldn’t go to the police for a while,” he said slowly.

“What happened?” Jennifer felt her heart beating faster in apprehension. Damon explained the mix-up at the diner and Jennifer felt her pleasure at their reunion beginning to evaporate. “Did they—did you get bail so soon, or did they decide not to press charges?” Damon shook his head and told her about the break-out, meeting the clan of were-bears who had left his former community. Jennifer sat bolt upright in the bed as he told her about his escape and stared at him in unabashed shock. “Damon you’re going to get yourself killed!” she said. “I… I’m glad you found people like you, but… breaking out of jail…” she sighed. “You could have called me.”

“They didn’t give me a chance at a phone call,” Damon said, looking hurt. “And I didn’t want you to have to come and get me like… like I was useless. They got me out.”

“But they’re going to be looking for you!” Damon shrugged, and Jennifer felt a flash of slight resentment for his newfound cockiness.

“I didn’t have an ID on me, so they can’t be sure of who I was.” Jennifer shook her head.

“I don’t like it,” she said, feeling a sense of foreboding. A group of supernatural shifters, who took an officer hostage—and clearly beat several more—didn’t seem like they would have the best interests of the man she loved in mind. “Especially since you have to lay low. I mean… this is the city, but people are eventually going to notice something strange about you in a situation like that. I don’t want to ever have to live with the fear I had when the town set out to lynch you again.” Damon pulled her close, soothing her with his hands, gentle touches along her back and shoulders.

“It’s going to be fine, Jenn,” he murmured. “I won’t ever put you through that again.” Jennifer held her peace, knowing that she couldn’t say anything—that Damon would have to make his own choices. She took a deep breath.

“I need to get some homework done, and then we can do that again,” she said with a smile.

***