Chapter Fourteen – Wyatt

She was warm in his arms, alive, reminding him of all the good things in life. Jonas had made his own decision, and no matter how hard it was to live without your mate, Wyatt could never see suicide as a good thing. Life was for living.

“Life is for loving,” he murmured against Monica’s lips.

“Then love me,” Monica told him.

“I already do.”

“I meant in a more physical way.” She smiled at him coyly, her cheeks flushed with arousal as she stepped away from him and took his hand, leading him to the edge of a belt of trees that stood sentry to the cool stream that sang as it bubbled over rocks and stones.

Wyatt didn’t ask what she meant, he knew in the touch of her skin against his and the scent of her body. They stopped next to the stream, and he pulled his sweater over his head and lay it down on the ground. She smiled, finding amusement in his actions, but she didn’t speak, didn’t break the spell between them. Instead, she unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it off her shoulders, revealing a T-shirt underneath that hugged her curves.

Monica looked around them, using her senses to tell if there was anyone close by. There wasn’t. At this time of the morning, the mountain was quiet, at peace. Unlike Wyatt’s body. He would never know peace again unless he made love to her here on the mountain, where he’d roamed alone for so long. His hands went to his belt and he unbuckled it, letting his worn jeans fall to the ground. He stood naked beneath the sun as it climbed higher in the sky. Monica’s eyes caressed his body, resting on the hard length that stood erect before him. A smile crept across her face, and then she lifted her eyes to his and tucked her fingers into the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, casting it down on the ground.

Wyatt watched as she unbuttoned her combat pants and eased them off her hips, giving a small wriggle as she stepped out of them. She stood before him, unashamed in the open air, and his cock hardened further at the sight of her soft flesh, her body not perfect, but lived in. Monica had not shied away from life, and it showed in the scars on her body and blemishes on her skin from her time in the Army.

She walked toward him, her hands reaching out for him. The first touch of her fingertips on his skin brought goosebumps out along his arms, his hairs stood on end, and he shivered in anticipation. Monica trailed her fingertips across his abdomen, stroking his hardened muscles, touching the scars he wore as symbols of hard-won battles.

“Where did you get this scar?” she asked as her hands explored his shoulders, caressing his skin, and then traveled down his back.

“In a bar fight.” He smiled as her forehead creased. “I could have lied and said in Afghanistan. But I never want to lie to you.”

“So, who started the bar fight?” She pressed her lips to his chest and he groaned with need, but he focused on her question.

“Jonas, he was a hell-raiser before he found his wife. He’d pick fights, and called it target practice. How he lived without ending up with a knife in his chest beats me.” She slid her hand around his hard length and stroked up and down. Wyatt closed his eyes, his world spinning, and he knew if he stepped off the side of the mountain he would soar above the peaks and fly toward the clouds.

“But you loved him anyway.” Her hand moved in a steady rhythm while she kissed his chest, her tongue curling around his nipple.

“He was my friend.” Wyatt broke off and took control, lifting her into his arms and laying her down on his sweater on the ground. It wasn’t much of a barrier to the uneven undergrowth, but Monica didn’t appear to care. She wanted him, it was obvious in her touch, in the way she licked her lips as if imagining what it would be like to lick his skin.

Wyatt bent over her and kissed the swell of her breasts while his fingers dealt with the clasp of her bra. As her breasts spilled out, he cupped them in his hands and lowered his head, kissing the soft flesh before claiming her nipples, one at a time, and torturing them until they hardened into taut buds. She writhed under him, arching her back, offering herself to him. She was everything and more than he could ever have dreamed of.

“We don’t have much time,” she whispered softly.

“But we have enough time.” He pulled away from her and hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties and pulled them down over her hips. She lifted her bottom off the ground to help him in his task, lifting one leg at a time and easing her foot out of them. Then she opened her thighs for him and he slid between them, nestling against her body, the head of his cock brushing against her outer lips.

He eased himself forward as she guided him toward her entrance. The sun warmed his back and the breeze ruffled her hair as he thrust forward. Closing his eyes, he savored every moment of this life-changing event. He was about to claim his mate, the woman he thought he would never meet. Mates and family were for other people, not for him. That’s what he’d come to believe in the long days and longer nights when he hid himself away, scared he would fail other people as he had failed Jonas.

But making love to Monica changed his perspective and gave him hope, and the courage that he could finally put his grief behind them. He knew now why Jonas had taken his own life. To have a mate and then lose her was the worst thing that could ever happen to a shifter. Wyatt had only known Monica a short time but already he could not imagine living without her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, brushing her hand across his face.

“Yes.” He opened his eyes and looked down at Monica, drinking in the sight of her while the stream bubbled along, the water traveling toward the ocean in a never-ending cycle. Just as life was a never-ending cycle. Birth and death and rebirth. “I understand now.”

Monica lifted her head off the ground and kissed his lips. “Do you forgive yourself?”

“There was nothing for me to forgive,” he murmured against her lips. “It was never my fault. If anything was to blame, it was fate, and I am not going to take fate to task over the death of one man.”

“There, you are free.” She threaded her hands around his neck and kissed him, her teeth nipping his lower lip.

“I’ll never be free again,” he told her, moving in and out of her as his arousal grew. “Not now.” He watched her face as his thrusts grew harder and the momentum increased. She wrapped her legs around his body and urged him on, faster, harder. Wyatt pulled back, and then lunged forward, filling her completely. She took everything he offered her and made him beg for more. In Monica, he’d met his match, and he reveled in the closeness of her body.

Monica trailed her fingers down his back, scratching her nails on his skin. He arched his back and lunged into her harder. She cried out, her orgasm close, and he lowered his head and sucked on her nipples, his hand massaging her swollen flesh. Her hips bucked, and she cried out his name as she came, her voice high and breathy. It was too much, and he came, his seed spurting into her, filling her with his essence, with the potential of new life.

But they were probably too old for babies, for children of their own. Instead, they would make a different kind of life, one that held meaning, one that served other people as they had both served for most of their lives. But not the Army. That life was behind them.

“Attention on me, soldier,” she said and placed her finger under his chin and swiveled his head around to face her. They kissed as he jerked the last of his seed inside her.

“We could just stay like this forever,” he said as he kissed her neck. “You and me, wolf and bear.”

“You don’t really mean that.” Monica stroked his back, her touch awakening his arousal once more. After so long without sex, he was more than ready to make up for lost time.

“No, I don’t. We must end this. But afterward.” He lifted his head and looked down at her. “What plans do you have for when this is finished?”

She chuckled. “I have a pop princess who needs a bodyguard. I’m supposed to start work in ten days.”

He sagged forward and then rolled to the side. “Are you going to walk out of my life?”

“You could always come with me. I have a lot of downtime in between work hours. She’s a nice kid who likes to play video games when she’s not working.” Monica turned onto her side and rested her head on her hand, letting the sun warm her. Through half closed eyes, she continued. “I thought she was going to be some spoiled little bitch, she thought I was going to be some tattooed sergeant major shouting orders at people.”

“You’re fond of her,” Wyatt said.

“Yeah, her mom is a bitch, so she likes to come and talk to me about stuff. I’m like her surrogate mom. She’d like you, she never had a dad.” Monica sat up. “Or I can tell her I have to cancel.”

“You’d do that for me?” Wyatt asked, propping his head up on his hand and watching as Monica retrieved her clothes and got dressed.

“I would.” She tilted her head. “I’d rather not because I hate letting her down. But I don’t want to walk away from us. Not when we’ve just found each other.”

Monica stood up and stepped into her combat pants, pulling them up over her hips. Wyatt rolled over and gathered his clothes, dressing quickly while he gave some thought to her offer. “I’ll come with you. I’d like to get out of town for a while and let the dust settle. Jay is starting up a bodyguard business aimed at shifters. Maybe I’ll take odd jobs with him.”

“Look at you, a changed man.” She approached him and grabbed him by the sweater, pulling him close. “I like this new man.”

He shook his head. “This is the old man. The man I used to be, the man I want to be again. It’s like a switch flipped when Jonas died, and now it’s flipped again.”

“Now, let’s flip into our animals and run back down this mountain.” She stretched her legs, warming up her muscles. “Or we could walk down like this, hand in hand.”

He laughed. “We could, but my wolf likes your bear and wants to spend time with her.”

“Well, you need to tell your wolf my bear is not fast over long sprints.” She shifted into her bear and took off down the trail they had climbed less than an hour ago. Despite her words, she set a good pace, obviously finding going downhill easier than coming up. Wyatt followed, not because he couldn’t pass her, but because he liked the view better from back here. He no longer wanted to outrun fate, he was ready to do what needed to be done, so they could all get their happy ever afters.