Wild Homecoming (Dark Pines Pride Book 1) Read online

  His laughter rumbled through him. “As my lady wishes.”

  He stopped rubbing his hands over her back in order to help take off her shorts and panties. She unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor.

  With her ex, this had always been the part where she felt self-conscious. Completely naked, right before the actual sex part of the sex act. She checked in with herself, but didn’t find any of that self-consciousness. Maybe it was the way Jackson stroked her skin, or the reverent look in his eyes as he reached out to caress her cheek.

  “No more waiting,” Summer grumbled, then threw a leg over his hip.

  His length nudged against her entrance. The angle wasn’t quite right, so she reached down to guide him in and—

  “Right there, yes,” Summer breathed.

  She liked this position. Neither of them was on top, and they could look at each other and move as fast or slow as they wanted. She could use the leg she’d moved over his hip to pull him closer and help control the speed and angle.

  It turned out that she didn’t need to control much. Jackson seemed to take cues she wasn’t even giving. As soon as she thought of how to get more stimulation to her clit, his hand was there. When she leaned forward slightly, wanting his lips on hers, he met her right away.

  Every stroke of him inside her, the sounds of their panting breaths, the dusty, spicy scent of Jackson, the taste of the salt on his shoulder when she pressed a biting, sucking kiss there—it all built higher and higher within her until she was nothing but sensation. And as she cried out, he thrust faster within her until he, too, was coming. Their bodies tensed and they rode the aftershocks together, gripping each other tightly.

  Jackson eased out of her and got up to dispose of the condom, while Summer rolled onto her back and tried to re-learn how to breathe.

  He padded back in from the bathroom and lay down next to her.

  “It’s never been quite that…magical for me,” she whispered.

  “Me, neither.”

  Her eyes felt heavy, dreamy. She felt tired and protected and so warm.

  “I know it’s soon,” Jackson whispered into her hair, “but it’s been coming over me since we started chatting on SocialBook. I love you, Summer Grieb.”

  She nestled into his arms, not caring that it was just slightly too hot for cuddling, and said, “Y’know what, Jackson Jaynes? I think I love you, too.”

  “Oh, you think so, huh?” he asked, voice teasing.

  “Gimme another second…okay. Yeah. I know I love you.”

  He kissed the top of her head.

  The fan stirred the air above them, cooling the sweat on Summer’s skin. She stretched her arms once, yawned, and fell asleep.

  *

  She hadn’t been sleeping long, she didn’t think, except it was completely dark outside. She sat up, feeling disoriented. It must have been hours since she dozed off in Jackson’s arms.

  And he’d said he loved her—and she’d said it back, knowing that it was true.

  Just a few days ago, she hadn’t even wanted a boyfriend. A one-night-stand to scratch the itch, maybe. But a boyfriend? And now, she was telling this guy she’d just met that she loved him.

  But how else to explain the peaceful, joyful, warm feeling that spread through her chest whenever she thought of Jackson? And it had been happening from long before they’d met in person, if she was honest with herself. He’d been slowly chipping away her defenses with every SocialBook message he’d sent.

  Jackson wasn’t next to her in bed. The place he’d been felt warm beneath her hand. She listened to see if maybe he was in the bathroom.

  Instead of the sink running or the toilet flushing, though, she heard something coming from outside. Growling.

  A part of her wanted to cower under her blankets until Jackson came back, but the other part of her needed to find out what the hell was going on. She looked around her room. She had no weapons, no heavy sports equipment or guns or knives.

  But her scrapbooking supplies were out, shoved into the far corner where she hadn’t put them away the other day, and her giant hole puncher was good and heavy—fifteen pounds of very serious hole-punching. She threw on her t-shirt and underwear, then grabbed the hole punch.

  The living room was lighter than her bedroom because the bright digital clock on the stove shone directly in from the kitchen. As soon as she stepped out of her room, she saw Jackson, standing next to the window. He was stark naked and staring outside. It was pitch black out there—what could he possibly see?

  Before she could ask him, he strode to the front door, opening it.

  “Jackson, what are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Stay here, please,” he said, turning to face her. “It isn’t safe out there.”

  “Don’t go out there,” she whisper-yelled across the living room. “You don’t even have your clothes on.”

  His mournful look was barely discernible in the light from her stove clock. “I have to. I’m being challenged.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As Jackson rushed out of Summer’s house, he could hear her behind him, asking him what the hell he thought he was doing.

  He’d have to explain it all later…if he survived.

  As soon as he was out of her sight, he took a wide leap as he ran, shifting in mid-air into his lion. He hit the ground with paws instead of feet and continued racing around to the rear of Summer’s cottage, where the yard ended and the woods began. The growling and roars continued, filling his ears with threat and the promise of blood.

  Growling and roars. The deep vibrations could be felt in Jackson’s bones. The grizzly shifter meant business.

  He had to be a hundred yards from the house, far enough into the woods that Summer wouldn’t be able to see a thing if she looked out her window.

  A shape loomed before him, and he skidded to a stop. The bear stood on its hind legs, mouth open in the challenge promised earlier, the challenge that had woken Jackson up and prompted him out of Summer’s house.

  The grizzly lunged at Jackson, falling on all fours. Jackson dodged out of the way and came up behind him, but the grizzly was faster than he looked, and he spun around, not giving Jackson his back.

  Jackson feinted to the right, but the grizzly didn’t fall for it and instead defended the left. They exchanged a few more lunges and last-second scrambles out of the way, until Jackson heard Summer shouting from the house. Was she okay? He turned to hear better. Sounded like she was just worried about him.

  Whack. The grizzly raked Jackson’s right leg out from under him, claws raking flesh. Jackson fell. He couldn’t stay down long, though. He clambered back to his feet. Favoring his leg, he used the grizzly’s follow-through movement as an opening and leaped onto the grizzly’s back.

  The grizzly fell to all-fours. Jackson sank his claws in, holding tight as the grizzly tried to buck him off. Then he darted his head down and bit the back of the grizzly’s neck, over the shoulder hump.

  The grizzly roared in pain and anger. Jackson locked his jaws and pressed hard. This could be a death move, but he held back. He didn’t want to kill the guy; he didn’t even know who the guy was.

  The grizzly froze beneath Jackson’s pressure on his neck. Then he eased down, belly to the ground. A gesture of submissiveness. Jackson had won the challenge. He was still pissed, though. His foreleg was injured, and the pain made him livid.

  With a rough shake, he let go of the grizzly’s neck. Jackson growled as he backed away from his opponent, fur raised, teeth bared. He put all his intent into his gaze. If you come after me again, I will end you.

  The grizzly slowly stood up. With a regretful look at Jackson, he turned and loped off into the woods.

  “Jackson!” Summer’s voice, coming from far away.

  He needed to get back there soon so she wouldn’t worry or come out looking for him. His right foreleg was bleeding badly. Too much blood. He needed to shift back, which would help spe
ed up the healing process. He lowered his head and concentrated, felt the re-forming of bones and ligaments, and the muscles of his body stretching and contracting.

  A strange light surrounded him, unusual for his shifts. He wasn’t sure what it could be, but in the middle of shifting, he couldn’t look, yet. Two seconds passed, three, five. Then he was kneeling on all fours in his human form, staring at the ground, which was illuminated beneath him. His bicep was bleeding, but slowly. It would heal soon.

  He straightened and turned to face the source of the light.

  Summer stood before him, holding a flashlight, a stricken look on her face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Summer backed away from Jackson. The flashlight swung wildly as her hands shook. Had she just seen what she thought she saw?

  Her other hand dropped the hole punch she’d been carrying. Whatever animal was attacking Jackson, she’d had plans to give it a good whack over the head until it let Jackson go.

  But the animal…monster…beast man? That was Jackson.

  She took another step back. “What…what are you?”

  He held his hands out to her, beseeching. “I’m different from you. I was going to tell you. Can we go back inside to talk?”

  She shook her head. He’d lied to her. Or he’d hidden this. She’d fallen in love with him, and…and she hadn’t even known. “I don’t think so. I don’t understand any of this.”

  His face fell, and she felt like her heart was breaking. Then she noticed the blood.

  “You’re hurt,” she said.

  He nodded. “It’ll heal.”

  She couldn’t put together the broken, injured Jackson in front of her with the mountain lion she’d seen two minutes ago. But whoever, or whatever, Jackson was, all she could see right now was the vulnerable man.

  “You won’t hurt me, will you?”

  He looked dismayed. “My God, Summer, no. I swear. If anything, I feel like I was born to keep you safe.”

  She took in a deep breath, held it, then let it go. “Okay. Then let’s get you cleaned up.”

  She walked ahead of him, but she could hear him behind her. She wondered if he was too afraid to get close to her, afraid that she might bolt. It was a possibility. Words should be said, she felt, but she didn’t know what those words should be.

  If he weren’t here right now, she could pretend she hadn’t seen any of that. She could pretend everything was normal.

  When they reached the house, she stepped inside. He hesitated at the doorway.

  “You have to at least come and get your clothes,” she said.

  He gave a little chuckle. “True.”

  She went straight to the bathroom to search the cupboard beneath the sink for her first aid kit. When she came out, Jackson was sitting at the kitchen table in his jeans. He held his shirt up to the wound to keep blood from dripping on her floor.

  Summer got some cotton pads and antiseptic from the kit.

  “For some reason, you’ve been in danger because of me,” Jackson said. “I didn’t know it at first.”

  She dabbed the pads on his wound. Two long gouges that scored down his bicep.

  “When I was a teenager, people like us—like my family—wanted to take over our territory.”

  Dab, dab. Wipe, wipe. Concentrate on the job in front of you, Summer, not on the man in front of you, the man you love, the man who’s betrayed you.

  “They came in,” Jackson said, “with almost no warning. They killed my parents and my aunt and uncle. They set fire to our house. Will, Hayley, and I barely escaped. We left the state, traveled all over the US. A week ago, I came back to this town for the first time in four years, pissing off my brother and sister in the process. I wanted to see whether the other shifters—that’s what we call ourselves—were still here.”

  “Turns out they are?” Summer asked wryly.

  He was quiet for a moment. Summer tossed the bloodied pads and got out some gauze.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “The guy who challenged me tonight—I don’t know him. Never met him before. He won’t come back to scare you, though.”

  “So I’m safe, now?”

  Jackson nodded. She could feel that he was trying to meet her gaze, but she focused on wrapping the gauze around his arm. If she made eye contact with him, she’d probably start crying.

  She fastened the gauze in place, then stepped back. “You’re all set,” she said.

  “Thanks.” He stood up. “I’m assuming you want some time to yourself.”

  She nodded.

  Shoulders hunched, he walked to the door. He opened it, but turned to face her. It was so like his pose when he’d gone out to fight that other…shifter…just a little while ago, only this time, he had pants on. His posture telegraphed bravery, though, and acceptance, and pain. Pain from his arm? Or like before, pain from leaving her?

  “Just so you know,” he said, “the only lie I’ve ever told you was keeping this from you. And I wasn’t going to keep it from you for long, because I want to share everything about myself with you. I trust you with everything.”

  And with that, he walked out of her house, and her life.

  Summer hugged herself and collapsed on the sofa. She listened to the sound of his little car start up, then drive away.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was just past midnight when Jackson drove away from Summer’s cottage. His arm ached, but already he could feel the itch of skin knitting together. Fast shifter healing, for the win.

  He pulled up to his motel room and went inside. He threw himself down onto the bedspread and stared at the ceiling for thirty seconds before jumping up again. He was too wired to sleep. Summer’s face, when she’d seen him shift from lion to human, had been devastating. And when he closed his eyes, her face was all he could see.

  At least she was safe. If nothing else came from tonight, at least he’d asserted his dominance over the grizzly shifter, and that asshole wouldn’t be harassing his mate again.

  He wanted to punch something. What had been the point of all that? Obviously, some new shifter had moved into the Dark Pines territory after the Clausens chased out Jackson’s family.

  Well, it was Jackson’s territory again, if he wanted it. And he’d gotten it with a challenge, not a war.

  His heart thrummed quickly in his chest with the memory of the fight. No way he’d be able to sleep with all this leftover adrenaline. There was only one thing to do. Run it out.

  With quick, jerky movements, he grabbed his room key and headed outside. He skirted around to the rear of the hotel and walked straight into the woods.

  Home. He was really home. Whether Summer ever talked to him again or not, maybe she’d at least stay in town and he could keep her safe from afar.

  After walking a few hundred feet, he took off his clothes. The bandage on his arm would probably fall away once he shifted, but he unwound it carefully, feeling a dull ache in his heart when he remembered the way Summer had wrapped it, eyes on the wound but not really seeing him.

  He got down on all fours and let the magic transform his human body into that of a mountain lion.

  Then he raced to the family property, leaped over the rotting fence, and approached the house. It was just as he’d left it three days ago. The collapsed side, blackened from fire and decay, and the intact side which wasn’t looking super great, either—the white siding dirty, one of the green shutters dangling at a diagonal from the window.

  He circled around, and was shocked once again to see the charred remains of the beam that had fallen on Will that fateful night. If Jackson could go back in time and prevent that, keep himself from sitting helpless in the house, he would. He’d tell his parents that they should all run, forget protecting the territory, that their lives were more important than territory…although it was territory that allowed them to really live, because they needed a home. But he’d have encouraged them to join another larger, stronger pride somewhere else.

  Anything to k
eep his family safe. He’d failed at protecting them. Failed.

  The breeze shifted, carrying something with it—undertones of sandalwood. It was the cologne again.

  Wait a minute. Something had been missing when he’d fought that grizzly.

  The cologne.

  At one point before the challenge, Jackson had seen the grizzly and smelled the cologne, but the scent had been faint. But when he fought the grizzly, the cologne had been missing entirely.

  What if the grizzly had been working with a second shifter?

  Summer could still be in danger.

  He raced back to his clothes, shifted, and got dressed. He had to get to her, make sure she was okay. Protect her. After retrieving his car keys from his motel room, he climbed into the tiny car and sped to Summer’s street.

  He parked a little ways away and ran on foot to her place, circling around from the back. All of her lights were off. He walked toward the front of the house and smelled the cologne again. Someone was fucking with him, and he’d find out who it was.

  He stopped by the bedroom window and listened for sounds. Summer was in there, breathing evenly, asleep.

  An even fouler scent wafted from the front of the cottage. Jackson hunched down low and approached, trying to keep his growls quiet. He couldn’t shift right here, not when there was a chance of an insomniac neighbor watching from across the street. Bad enough Jackson was here at all, skulking around like a creeper.

  The scent was so strong, he stopped breathing through his nose. Rotten meat, some kind of mammal. When he got to the porch, he saw the source of the smell.

  The rotting carcass of an opossum had been lovingly placed on the top step, and a wreath of dried roses had been arranged around it.

  Sick fucker.

  The combined scents of the rotting opossum and the sandalwood cologne made him want to gag. He held his breath and grabbed the opossum by the tail. He’d drag it away, bury it in the woods far away from the cottage.

  He hadn’t gone six steps when the body disconnected from the tail and fell with a squelching sound to his feet.