“Ginger, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She stirred the oatmeal in the pot, staring at its contents. “The truth is, when he died the bank foreclosed on the mortgage on his condo and I got kicked out. I used the last bit of my money to come up to Alaska to follow what might’ve been the delusional ramblings of a dying man. I didn’t know if the gold was really here are not. If it hadn’t been, I would’ve to spend stranded in Alaska. I guess I’m going to be stranded in Alaska anyway.”
“You aren’t stranded, Ginger. You have me.”
“Brock, you’re sweet. I appreciate you holding me this morning. And I’m sure once you’re feeling better, you won’t be interested in me anymore.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. I’ll never stop being interested in you.”
She looked up at him with her eyes wide and dropped the spoon in the oatmeal. “Why are you talking like that? I can’t have my heart broken again. Not now. Not when I’m at the end of my rope, and I’ve lost everything. Please don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing with you, Ginger. I’m definitely not playing with you.”
“How could you possibly want me? I’m a mess. I’m penniless. I have nothing to offer a man like you.”
He sat up and flung his legs over the bed. The wound stung like crazy, but he wanted to face her when he said it, even if he couldn’t stand. “Ginger, listen to me. I have to tell you something that you might not understand. I don’t want to scare you. Or make you think you have any obligation to me. But from the moment I saw you, I knew that you were my fated mate. You’re the one for me. The only one.”
She stood there with a confused, shocked expression on her face. The smell of burning oatmeal wafted from the pot, and she quickly pulled it away from the heat before dumping the contents into two tin bowls. She stood over the counter with her back to him, her body tense.
“I knew shifters had fated mates. The woman I met the first day in Juneau told me that she helped shifters find them. I never expected that to be me.”
“What woman?”
“I think her name was something like... Babs Bula. She gave me a business card for a dating website she runs.”
“I should have known,” Brock said.
Ginger turned around and pulled a rumpled business card from her back pocket. “Yes, this is it. Babs Bula. FGD.com.”
“Fairy Godmother Dating,” he said. “I know that woman. Believe me, we all know her.”
“So she finds mates for a lot of shifters in Juneau?”
“Oh yes, she finds people mates. Her tactics might be questionable, but her results speak for themselves.”
“Do you think she planned this? How is that even possible?”
“Who knows? No one knows with Babs. We don’t even know if she’s a shifter or a human or what.”
“She told me to call you. She said you’d work with me for two hundred dollars.”
“Of course she did.” Brock shook his head in disbelief and wonder.
“You did work with me for two hundred dollars.”
“I did. The moment I saw you my bear started roaring inside my head that you’re my mate. I didn’t have a choice. I had to keep close until I figured out what to do. When I became the clan leader, two days ago, the elders of my clan thought it was the best time to start pressuring me to find a mate of my own.”
Ginger brought the oatmeal over to Brock in bed and sat down at the chair beside him. He took a bite, and the warm cereal felt good going down into his stomach.
“Did you not want a mate?” Ginger asked him.
“I didn’t. Not really. Not until I met you.”
“And you wanted me just because your bear was roaring at you?”
“Well, that was part of it. But not all of it.”
“Oh? What else, then?”
“You’re a strong woman, Ginger. Determined, brave, loyal. Not to mention devastatingly beautiful.”
At that, Ginger almost spat her mouthful of oatmeal back out into her bowl, she was laughing so hard. “I’m devastatingly beautiful?”
“Yes. The contrast of your beautiful red hair and your gorgeous pale skin. Your curves are fucking hot. I won’t even tell you what my bear’s been putting in my head about that.”
“Oh please tell me,” she said in a teasing voice.
“I think would be better if I showed you instead,” he said in the same teasing voice.
She looked up at him through her thick lashes and bit her lip, shaking her head “no” slightly. “You’re still injured. You won’t be showing me anything until you’re fully healed. We need to get off this mountain and back to safety. I’m not going to be the reason that it takes you longer to repair.”
“You’re probably right. When I show you what my bear has in mind, I want to do it the right way. That means having all of my strength.”
Ginger took her empty bowl, giggling as she stood from her chair, and placed it on the counter near the sink. “I’m going to try a little bit of fishing, and see if I can catch something for lunch. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“I have everything I need.”
Chapter 11
Ginger’s head was buzzing as she left the cabin. Her entire body seemed to be on fire from hearing Brock’s revelation. She was his fated mate. Who ever would have thought that she and Brock belonged together? It was too exciting and too much to even take in all at once.
She’d been robbed, Brock had been shot, and they were stranded on top of the mountain, miles away from help. She had to think about survival right now, but the budding feelings in her heart wouldn’t let her go. She’d found Brock incredibly sexy from the first second she laid eyes on him. He’d made her gushy and gooey all over. But she’d never expected a man like him to be attracted to her. Being his mate? How could that even be real?
She gripped the fishing pole and tackle in one hand and her father’s ashes in the other. It was time to scatter the ashes like he’d wanted. She opened the plastic container and untied the plastic bag inside. She dusted them around the outside of the cabin and crept down to the riverbank to scatter them among the rocks and trees.
The wind ruffled in her hair, blowing it in her face. She brushed it away and felt a sense of peace and ease, as if her father were there with her, telling her he had found his own peace. Love filled her heart for her dad, and a tear slipped down her face.
She cast her line and waited, her mind a chaos of thoughts and feelings she couldn’t sort out. After about fifteen minutes of casting and reeling, she got a bite at the end of her line. Excitedly, she began to reel the line in. The fish fought against her. It required all of her strength to pull the bright red salmon out of the cold Mountain River and onto the bank.
She unhooked the fish from the line and quickly put it out of its misery. Triumphantly, she carried the salmon back up the riverbank and through the forest to the cabin. Inside she found Brock sitting in the chair beside the wood-burning stove, slowly putting logs into the fire.
“What are you doing up?” she asked.
“The fire was dying, and I was feeling well enough to stoke it up. I see you caught a fish.”
She held it up with a huge grin on her face. “I did! Now we’ll have protein for lunch and dinner.”
“My resourceful, beautiful, little mate. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
She chuckled as she passed him on her way to the sink. “Are you sure you didn’t get hit on the head when you fell?”
“You’re going to have to learn how to take a compliment, my darling. There are a lot more in store for you.”
Ginger just looked down at him with a stifled giggle inside her mouth. How had she been so lucky to land a guy like him? Maybe fate was real. Maybe a girl like her, who had gone through so many trials and troubles, could get rewarded in the end by finding a man who would say things like that and make her feel the way she did every time she looked at him.
&
nbsp; She put the fish in the sink, and Brock rose behind her and hobbled across the room until he stood beside her.
“Let me do that,” he said, taking the fish and the knife from her hands.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed yet.”
“I’m feeling better all the time. You went out and caught our lunch; the least I can do is clean it for you.”
Ginger prepared a frying pan from her father’s collection of cooking utensils with oil that was still good. Moments later, Brock had the cleaned fillets, and they were searing in the pan. The delicious smell filled the cabin, and Ginger flipped them onto plates when they were done. They sat at the small table and chairs, Brock still walking with a limp.
It was amazing how quickly he healed. Ginger marveled at this as she ate her portion of salmon.
The wound had covered over with new skin and all that was left was a raw red welt. “How does your leg feel?” Ginger asked him between bites.
“It feels much better, but I doubt I could make it back down the mountain until tomorrow morning.”
“Another night here?” she asked.
“It will reopen if I travel on it too quickly.”
Heat pricked in Ginger’s face, and she knew she was blushing. Images of her and Brock in the same bed flashed through her mind. He’d told her she was his mate. What that meant for them now, she didn’t know. But she had a few ideas.
One of them was seeing Brock without a shirt on. She just imagined what he must have under all his flannel and Gor-tex. She’d had her head on his chest earlier. He had been so sweet and tender when she hadn’t expected it. The suddenness of it scared her, but she also wanted to run headlong into his arms.
The promise of fate intrigued her. Shifters mated for life. They loved forever. She would never be alone again. Brock rose and took their plates to the sink, limping heavily as he walked. She hurried up beside him and took the plates the rest of the way.
“Sit, regain your strength. I don’t want you to be in pain longer because you want to be gallant.”
He handed her the plates and laughed as he limped to the bed. He lay down on the bed, reclining with his arms tucked under his head. He was wearing his tight fitting, long sleeved undershirt. This hard chest tapered down into his slim waist and the skin on his navel peeked out from under his shirt.
Ginger bit her lip and turned away to the kitchen sink. There were some soap crystals in a dish so she began rinsing and washing the dishes in cold water. When she finished washing the dishes, she turned around and with a soft rag in her hands. The shirt had inched up higher on Brock’s chest. He was watching the leaves fall outside the small, thick paned window.
Her body seemed to vibrate in a cacophony of emotions and sensations. She wanted to walk over to him and climb on his lap, running her hands under his shirt. He glanced over at her and broke her spell.
“Come sit with me,” he said, reaching out his hand.
She crossed the room and took his hand before carefully crawling up on the bed beside him. He put his arm around her and they lay there looking out the window with their bellies full. Still sore and tired from the trip up the mountain; Ginger’s eyes began to flutter closed.
The next time she opened them, it was pitch black and Brock was moving around the cabin in the light of a single flashlight.
“What time is it?” she asked, groggily.
“Early. We should go soon. I’m healed enough to travel.”
“Do I smell coffee?”
“Yes. I stoked up the fire.”
“Come back to bed, I’m cold,” she said, reaching out to him.
He came to her and climbed under the blankets, still in his undershirt and jeans. His hands were warm on hers when he enveloped them and brought them to his chest. His body heat warmed her from the chill, and she drew closer to him, wrapping her arm over his chest.
Brock reached down and pulled her leg over his thigh, bringing her closer still. She could feel him hard against her core. His face tilted down, their eyes met, and Ginger opened to him. His lips brushed over hers and they felt each other’s spark, tasted each other’s breath. She pressed harder, wanted to feel him more deeply.
His lips crushed hers, and his tongue darted inside her mouth. Hot desire washed up and down her spine, and his hand slid over her thigh and ass, gripping and pulling her closer against him.
Brock’s erection throbbed against her sex. She gasped and ran her hand under his shirt, feeling the ripple and hardness of his muscles. His hand roved over her behind and slide down between her cheeks, rubbing over her heat as he rocked into her.
Ginger pulled his shirt up, trying to get it over his head. When he saw what she was doing, he pulled it off the rest of the way and threw it on the floor. When he turned back to her, his green eyes flashed with need and desire. He examined her body and slowly slid down the zipper on her fleece jacket.
She helped him slide it off and peeled out of her t-shirt as well. She sat there in her old bra, not feeling ashamed at all. He growled and toppled her down on her back, hard between her legs. He kissed her again, and rained kisses over her face and chest. He flicked off her bra and pulled it away.
She covered her small pink nipples but he pulled her hands away and held them gently over her head. He kissed over her neck and shoulders and down to her breasts. He sucked each nipple into his mouth, kissing and teasing them until her core twitched in anticipation.
“Brock,” she whispered, wanting him so much deeper.
He traveled down her body and opened her pants, pulling them down under the covers. At that moment, he took off the rest of his clothes and deposited them on the floor. They were naked under the covers, their skin sliding over each other. He lay beside her, running his hands over her body, up her legs, gently over her mound, navel and breasts. He kissed her, darting his tongue in and out of her mouth.
His hand grasped her breasts and plucked at her nipple, before he traveled lower again and cupped her heat. Ginger shivered--need, fear, and chill exciting her senses. Brock dipped a single finger into her wetness, rubbing up and down along the slit. Kissing her, he flicked her bud. Her nipples pulled tight.
He vibrated his finger over her swollen clit, making her wetter by the second. She moaned into his mouth. Desire mounted in bubbling wet heat, it throbbed around her. A tight climax contracted from her core and radiated through her body.
“Oh, yes,” Brock whispered, feeling her orgasm on his fingers. She could feel herself slick between her legs when he climbed over her and pressed himself to her body. Ginger moaned and clung to his shoulders. He kissed her as he leaned into her, pressing the head of his cock to her slit.
“Brock,” she whimpered.
“Do you want me inside you?” he whispered, kissing her neck.
“Oh God yes,” she gasped, pulling him forward. She leaned into his kiss, and Brock slid forward, pushing inside her. She let out a crying groan, clinging to his shoulders as he sank deeper. His hips tilted back and thrust forward again, each time filling Ginger with a delicious spark of desire.
She whimpered his name, running her hands over his body. He kissed her cheeks and neck, grasping her breasts and hips. The sparks of desire rushed into flames and each pump of his hips brought her closer to release.
He kissed her deep and lifted her thigh up to sink farther inside her. “Oh Ginger. God I need you,” he groaned, pounding into her tight pussy. Her release gushed forward in a wet tide. She moaned, and Brock swore.
His fingers gripped her hip thigh, his hips smacking into her. Her orgasm rolled on, and Brock clenched up inside her and propelled his seed deep into her womb. With rumbling groan, he climaxed. “Damn, Ginger,” he said. He pressed his lips to her cheek and pulled himself off of her. “Jesus. Need a minute.”
She lay on his chest and giggled. “What?”
“Girl, you blow my mind.”
“No. I’ve never even done it before.”
“What? Are you serious?”
&n
bsp; “Well, yeah. Is that okay?”
“How could it not be okay? Baby, come here.”
He pulled her tighter. “To think you came for me like that when you’d never even done it before. Did it hurt? You should have told me.”
“It was perfect.”
“Oh, sweet baby girl.” He kissed her neck and shoulders, holding her close to him. She could feel his love and tenderness all around her. She melted into him, wanting to let herself be cared for. “My bear has been rumbling for you since we met.”
“Rumbling?” she asked.
“He wanted me to bend you over in the woods and take you in every which way.”
“You’re bear is a horny bastard,” she giggled.
“He is,” Brock growled.
“What about now? Is your bear satisfied?”
“Never,” he growled into her neck, biting down gently on her flesh.
“What does he want to do to me now?” she teased.
“Uh. I probably shouldn’t say.”
“Come on. Show me.”
The faint light of the morning sun peeked through the window, adding to the soft glow from the kerosene lamp. Brock growled and grabbed her by the hips. Ginger saw his cock, erect and stiff already. He flipped her over on her hands and knees and ran his hands over her body. He pressed her head down to the bed and grabbed her hips.
“Did your bear want to do this?” she asked.
“Yes. And this.” He slapped her ass, stinging the flesh and making it jiggle. She gasped when he grabbed her hips and rubbed his cock over her sopping wet core.
“What else?” she asked, panting.
He pressed his cock against her and slid inside in one thrust, his hands tight around her hips. She cried out as he entered her, filling her and caressing deep inside her core. He used his hands and hips to move her swiftly over his cock, pumping up against her ass with each powerful thrust.
Gingers breasts bounced under her and she moaned louder each time he slid over her inner spot. Climax came in steady waves, rolling along with Brock’s controlled thrusts. She offered her self up to the consuming pleasure, taking his shaft with throbbing anticipation.