A Mate's Denial: by P. Jameson Read Free Book Online Page B

wanted to mate her, not one-and-done it. To make that happen, he had to take this slow, gain her trust. And hopefully her heart. She already had his. Hook, line, and sinker. But she was human and things worked differently for them. They didn’t fall in love soul-first. All in or nothing. They eased into it, warily. Because for them, there were many options.
    For shifters, there was one. And nature had a way of making them fall fast and hard for that person. It was the most amazing experience, feeling so much for someone you’d only just met. Even if… even if the Elders were right about her, he wouldn’t regret his feelings. How could he, when he felt like he’d kissed a rainbow. Like the sun was shining on his night. Like he’d met the missing piece to his puzzle.
    Staying away after he’d tasted her mouth was pure torture, but he knew if he saw her again so soon, he’d have trouble keeping his lips off her. And his hands for that matter. He’d dreamed of her curves so many times that now, he was practically aching to feel them for real.
    Trager showered—cold—and made a quick breakfast of bacon and eggs. Then he went outside to work off some steam. There was plenty of fire wood that needed splitting, and he should check the perimeters of his property. A little time running with his wolf would do him some good.
    The sun was high in the sky, and Trager had worked up a good sweat despite the cool air by the time he’d finished splitting the wood. His muscles were loose and his mind had cleared a fraction. After stacking it neatly on the small porch, he removed his clothes and shifted. Shaking out his fur, he lifted his nose to the chilled blue sky and sniffed. There was nothing strange in the air, but he needed to run. A lap around his land was exactly the prescription his wolf soul needed.
    Taking off through the dense cover of trees that kept his cabin hidden from most of the world, he headed for the north boundary. The cool air on his fur as he darted between heavy-barked trunks rejuvenated him. From the north, he cut west. The scuffle of smaller animals was a soothing sound. It also made his stomach rumble. Chasing down a rabbit was an easy task before he wrapped around, coming up to the back of the area where his cabin was. A final inhale gave him the all-clear. His place was safe. He was fed and exercised, and the sun was going to set soon.
    Time to be human again.
    Leaving the rough forest floor, he changed, and padded over the too-long grass behind his house. He stretched until his bones cracked, and then shook out his arms. One of the greatest things about living so far out in the country: there was no one to stop him from walking around naked outside.
    If he ever—when—he brought Kerrigan home, he would take her body outside, in the open air. Maybe under the moonlight. He imagined how it would paint her skin in shadows and muted light, highlighting her hills and valleys.
    Trager groaned, and stared down at his erection. He’d have to take care of that soon, one way or another.
    He needed a distraction. There was no more wood to chop, no bike to tune up, and a freezer full of meat, so no hunting to do. The only option was a trip to Bullseye. He needed to talk to Asa anyway. Hopefully, the old man had some information for him.
    An hour later, Trager pulled up outside the ragtag bar that served as a resting spot for all types. He figured Bullseye was one of the few places on earth that could appeal to people from all walks of life. It was an interesting concoction of cowboys, bikers, Goths, and college students. And for some reason, Thursday night was always their busiest.
    Stepping out of his 4-Runner, he sniffed the air, scenting a few Ravendale wolves nearby. Hopefully one of them was Asa.
    Inside, the booming music was loud southern rock. Five minutes from now, it could be boot scootin’, and five minutes after that, hipster metal.
    Trager took a seat at the back of the bar and ordered a Corona.