Keith isn’t the kind of guy a girl like me should have gotten involved with. He’s a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, but that just made him so much more appealing, like maybe I could reform him, like maybe I could save him.
Like maybe we could find some sort of happily-ever-after.
But that didn’t happen.
“Stop.” Mia smacks me on the side of the head.
“Come on now.” I rub my head dramatically and pout in her general direction. “That hurt!”
“Of course it did. I had to pull you out of that pity-party daydream you were locked in.”
“I was not locked in a pity-party, darling.”
“You were,” she sighs, ignoring my pet names. I can’t seem to go more than a sentence or two without dropping a darling or sweetie. Mia is used to this by now. “And I don’t know why you’re so hung up on the past. You’ve had a lot of bad shit happen to you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find love.”
“Trust me: I’m not cut out for love, honey.”
Mia sighs and shakes her head, like she can’t quite believe me. She hands me the box of cupcakes I ordered and I take them. Then I silently hand her the money. I peek at the cupcakes while she makes change for me. Her husband, Aidan, makes the most incredible cupcakes. He’s running errands with their daughter today, so Mia is in charge of the shop. I don’t know how she manages to run this place without eating all of the sweet treats. These are the best-looking cupcakes I’ve ever seen.
She’s also, apparently, in charge of giving me crap about my dating history.
“Everyone has someone out there for them, Georgia.”
“You’ve read too many romance novels, sugar. That’s not the way the world works.”
“Uh-huh,” Mia rolls her eyes. “Your problem is that you’re just too jaded.”
“I am not jaded.”
“You are.”
“Call it what you want. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Hey,” Mia’s eyes soften and she reaches for my hand. “I’m not trying to be mean. I’m sorry. I know I’m being totally harsh with you. It’s just…” She pauses and thinks for a second, searching for the right words. “It’s just that I’m so happy with Aidan,” she finally says. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want that for you, too.”
“I know you want what’s best for me, but maybe what I need right now is to not be in a relationship. Maybe I just need some time for myself.”
“I get it,” Mia nods. Then she comes around the counter and gives me a big hug. “But if you ever want to talk, you know, girl-to-girl, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Mia.”
I take my cupcakes and head to my car. I set the box carefully on the passenger seat before climbing in and taking off. I put on some music and zone out on the ride back home, wondering where everything went so wrong.
I finally reach my house on the outskirts of Honeypot. It’s a small place with only two bedrooms, but that’s all we need. My roommate and best friend, Richard, relocated to Honeypot from Morris Creek a few months ago. He already worked here a couple of days a week, offering counseling services to shifters. When he was offered a full-time position in the area, he couldn’t turn it down. After all, his sister, Mia, lives here, and Richard wanted the chance to be closer to her and his niece.
“Honey, I’m home,” I call out.
“Good,” Richard pops his head out of the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“What? You didn’t have to cook.” I hurry into the kitchen and set the cupcakes on the table. Instantly, the aroma of steak and mashed potatoes fills my nostrils. “You shouldn’t have. It’s my favorite.”
“I know,” he says. “Happy birthday, Georgia.”
“You remembered.”
“How could I forget?”
Richard wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug. I sink into him, enjoying the way he feels, enjoying the touch. Even as he holds me, I know we’ll never be anything more than friends. That’s okay.
Richard wouldn’t want someone like me, anyway.
He knows more about me than any human should ever know. From my failed marriage to my miscarriage to my string of awful relationships, Richard has heard it all. He’s been there for me, not as a shrink, but as a friend, and I’m thankful for that.
So fucking thankful.
“Everyone else did. I guess after you turn 30, birthdays aren’t really as big of a deal.”
“31 is just as big of a deal as 30, my sweet tiger.”
“Really?”
“Really. Now come on. Let’s eat.”
I sink into a chair at the table and Richard pours us each a glass of wine. We lift our glasses.
“To a beautiful girl and a beautiful year. May you find your happiness, Georgia.”
We clink our glasses and sip the merlot. It’s good, and warms my belly. Then we immediately start diving in.
“How was work today?” Richard can’t discuss specifics about his job and he can’t talk about his patients, but sometimes he’ll run anonymous situations by me to see what I think. He’s a human, but he’s been working with shifters for many years. Every once in awhile, though, he’ll come across an issue he wants a little more feedback on, and I’m happy to help him.
“Busy. I had back-to-back appointments, including a premarital counseling session.”
“Your favorite.”
“I do enjoy those. The couples who come in for premarital counseling are very different from the ones who come in for marriage counseling. They’re at the beginning of their journey and the road hasn’t gotten hard yet. They’re always so hopeful, always so excited. Plus,” he takes another sip of his wine. “They’re always more willing to listen.”
“Yeah, I could see how when couples come in later in their relationship, they might be more resistant to change.”
“A lot of people come in and like to point fingers at their spouse,” Richard shakes his head. “And the thing with marriage is that it’s not easy, but it also takes two people. It takes two people to make things work and two people to destroy everything.”
He’s right, and I manage a nod.
“That’s what happened with me.”
“Georgia, I didn’t mean anything specific. I’m not trying to bring up the past on your birthday.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him honestly. “It’s always with me. Just because it’s my birthday doesn’t mean I’m not thinking of Keith and Wendy.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think I really have anything new to say. Our baby died. I couldn’t cope. He cheated. Marriage over. Neither one of us had anything left to give. People are broken, Richard. I’m broken. I probably should have fought harder for my marriage, but I didn’t have anything left in me. I didn’t have anyone to hold me together when I lost the baby, when I lost Wendy.”
Richard pushes his chair back and walks around the table. He pulls me to my feet and wraps his arms around me.
“Hey, look at me.” I listen wordlessly, looking up at the man who has kept me safe, the man who has kept me sane. It’s been years since my baby died. It’s been years since my marriage failed. I should be over it by now, but I’m not. I still go on dates with random guys I meet on Turntable. I still hook up with people who are no good for me. I still have all these self-destructive behaviors because I don’t think I’m worth more.
I think I had my chance at love and now it’s gone.
Over.
Finished.
Beyond me.
It’s in the past and I’m in the present and the future looks dark, bleak.
But when my eyes meet Richard’s, he doesn’t look like he’s judging me. He doesn’t look disappointed in me. He doesn’t look sad.
He just looks like a guy who wants to take care of me.
“You are an amazing woman, Georgia.”
“I know you have to say that because you’re my friend.”
“Georgia,” he whispers my name and pulls me close to him. Then Richard presses his lips to my forehead, and my whole world starts to spin. The scent around him changes from happiness and mixed emotions to one very, very obvious emotion.
Arousal.
Desire.
Want.
“You. Are. Amazing.”
“Richard?”
He’s silent and just holds me for a few more minutes. Then he pulls away and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry. I just got overwhelmed for a second.”
“With what?” I ask impatiently. “What was that all about?”
“Georgia, I don’t know how to tell you this.”
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it.
He’s going to say it and I’m not ready to hear it. He is too good for me. I do not deserve a guy like Richard and if he’s serious right now, I’m going to lose my shit. Oh, I want more than anything for Richard to like me. I’ve loved him for months, since the first time we hung out. He’s incredible. He’s smart and interesting and sweet, and he’s kind.
But no matter how incredible he is, I am not a good match for a solid guy like Richard.
I shake my head, but he opens his mouth. Before he can say another word, I push away from Richard and run out the back door.
“Georgia!” I hear him calling my name, but I don’t have any desire to stop. I just need to run. I need to move. I need to get out of here. I strip off my clothes as I move, throwing them randomly. The sunlight is fading fast and I’m sure anyone who happens to look my way will see me, but I don’t care.
I keep running, and then I jump into the air.
When I land, I’m no longer a girl.
I’m no longer a woman.
I’m a tiger, through-and-through.
I’m a beast.
And I am strong.
My paws hit the ground and I move, throwing myself forward. There are so many thoughts racing through my head right now and I don’t know how to deal with any of them. I don’t know how to sort what I’m feeling into something reasonable, something I can understand.
I think Richard is in love with me.
I never sensed it until tonight, but suddenly, so many moments are clicking into place.
All the times he hugged me just a little too long.
All the times I wondered if he fantasized about me, too.
All the times I wondered why a man like him is single.
I should feel happy and relieved, but I just feel worthless. I just feel like I can’t meet his expectations. I run, moving through the fields behind my house and into the woods that surround the mountains.
Swiftly, silently, I move, racing.
I run and I run and I run.
One of the most beautiful places near Honeypot is this cave on the side of one of the mountains. I go there when I need to think, and somehow, that’s where my tiger form seems to go. It’s exactly where I need to be and when I finish climbing up to the cave, I lay on the cliff out front, and I shift back to my woman form.
I shift back to being a human.
And I just lay there on the top of the cliff, peering over the edge.
I can see so much from up here: the tops of trees, the lights in little houses. I can see the stars and the sky and I can see just how much Richard cares about me. I care about him, too. I care about him so much. Today is my birthday, and I wonder if he was going to finally get the courage to tell me he cares about me as more than a roommate, about more than a friend.
Does he know I feel the same way?
One thing Richard always talks to me about is personal growth. He always tells me we can’t stay in one place forever or we’ll get stuck, we’ll become stagnant. He’s not talking about physically moving around. He means our hearts, our minds, our views.
We need to be able to change.
We need to be able to adapt.
And I struggle with that.
I choose guys off Turntable because they’re easy and they don’t ask anything of me. I choose to sleep with those guys because it’s wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am. I find someone random, and I fuck him, and then I can move on. I don’t have to feel anything for him on an emotional level. I don’t have to give anything of myself.
When I find someone random, there is no requirement that I change or adapt. There is no need for me to figure out what they want or what their needs are. That’s not how sleeping around works.
With Richard, though?
He would never let me get away with those games. He wouldn’t let me skate by with a half-assed relationship. He wouldn’t let me sleep with him and then not talk about it. He wouldn’t let me not tell him how I’m feeling.
He’s going to want all of me.
Is that something I’m willing to give?
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Richard?” I look up, shocked to see him in my secret hiding place.
“Yeah,” he sits down next to me. He’s out of breath.
“You ran here?”
“I did.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
He shrugs, scooting closer to me. Now our thighs are touching. I’m unconcerned with my nakedness. Richard’s never seen me naked before, as far as I know, and I have to credit him for the fact that he doesn’t look me up and down. He just sits with me and reaches for my hand, which I give him.
“I know this is your favorite spot. You’ve talked about it enough times that it was easy to find.”
“Why did you follow me?”
“You ran away.” He turns to me and his eyes narrow. “You’re trying to push me away.”
“I got scared.”
“I know. That much was obvious. Do you want to tell me why you were scared?”
“Because it’s my birthday, and you’re a stone-cold romantic, Richard. I thought you were going to tell me…”
“Tell you what?”
“That you like me.”
“I wasn’t going to tell you I like you.”
“Oh.”
“I was going to tell you I love you.”
I swallow hard. I thought I had gotten used to the like part, but this is a little intense. When shifters mate, we’re supposed to mate for life. Obviously, that doesn’t always happen. It didn’t for me. I’m one of the few divorcees in Shifterville, USA, and I stand out like a sore thumb. Most shifters find someone they love, mate, have a bunch of babies, and live happily ever after.
My life has been different.
“I’m messed up, Richard.”
“You’re perfect.”
“I’m broken.”
“We all have scars.”
“I’m no good for you.”
“You’re incredible.”
“I-”
He presses a finger to my lips, silencing me, and holds my gaze.
“Are you going to stop coming up with reasons you don’t want to be with me and just admit we’re perfect for each other?”
“How?”
“I love you,” he repeats. “I’ve loved you for awhile, Georgia, but I know you needed some time to get to know me better, to understand I’m not like the other guys you date.”
“I wouldn’t say I date.”
“Yes,” he says drily. “I realize that.” I start to blush but he shakes his head. “None of that, now. No embarrassment. I know why you choose the people you do, sweetie, and I don’t care. That’s part of your healing process, but you know what?”
“What?”
“They don’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated. They don’t treat you like a princess. And that’s what you are, baby. You’re a beautiful tiger princess and I’m going to worship you.”
“You are?”
“I am.”
Richard cups my face with his hands and brings his lips to mine, and I let him. In this moment, it’s exactly what I want, and I give in to my desire. I let him touch me. I let him bring me this pleasure. I let my worries go for just a little while, and I close my eyes.
His kiss soars through my body and touches my soul. It softens my heart, just a little, and I realize that I’ve been holding back for no good reason. I’ve talked myself out of reasons to pursue something with him because I haven’t felt good enough or strong enough or valuable enough, but that’s ridiculous.
I may have had bad things happen to me, and I may not have had a good marriage, but that doesn’t make me a bad person. It doesn’t take away my value or my worth.
And as he kisses me, I feel a warmth blooming inside of me I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.
I feel a peace, and a comfort, and a strength I didn’t know I had.
“Tiger,” he pulls back and looks at me, stroking my cheek softly. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I love you, too, Richard,” I whisper. “And you don’t have to worry about me breaking your heart because I know Mia will kill me if I do.”
He laughs heartily. The sound fills the air and my heart. I want to capture this moment, lock it away in a little box for always. I want to cling to what’s happening because I finally feel like I’m getting a little bit of peace, a little bit of comfort. I finally feel like something good is happening to me.
I know I don’t deserve him.
I don’t.
He’s a good, fantastic man. He’s strong and kind and caring. I am broken on so many levels, but he doesn’t care about that. Richard doesn’t care about my past. He cares about my present. He cares about who I am now. He cares about who I’ll become.
And he loves me.
He wraps his arms around me and then Richard holds me for a little while.
“Beautiful girl, let’s go home.”
*
When we get back to the house, there’s a shift in the air: a sort of sexual tension that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it was there, but I just chose to ignore it. When we close the door behind us, though, I’m very aware of the fact that I’m alone with Richard and that we’ve both professed our love to each other.
Also, I’m still naked.
I shifted for the walk home. Since I didn’t bring shoes along, it made more sense to walk home as a tiger, rather than to stumble around the mountains in my bare feet. Richard walked quietly alongside me, petting me the entire way.
I liked it more than I should.
I’ve never thought about anyone petting me as a tiger before. Perhaps it’s because all of the people I’ve dated from Honeypot have been shifters like me. I’ve never dated a human. Oh, I’ve slept with plenty of them, but the whole “are you a shifter or not?” question doesn’t really come up during one night stands.
And if someone asked me if I wanted to be pet like a kitten, I would say no.
I would growl.
I would be fierce.
I don’t feel that way when Richard touches me, though. I feel delicate and sweet and cared for. I feel pampered. I feel like the whole damn world is at rest.
When Richard and I are together, I feel at peace. This is something I never feel at any other time during my life. Only when we’re together do I feel like the world isn’t going to swallow me whole.
Richard takes a step toward me and runs his hands up and down my shoulders. He’s slow and tender. He’s sweet.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking maybe the therapist thing is just a cover,” I raise an eyebrow. “I think perhaps you’re actually a little Dominant.”
“In the bedroom?”
“In life.”
“You aren’t wrong.”
“I kind of thought so.”
“Don’t worry, darling,” he says, “I get the feeling you’re a little bit submissive.”
“Well, my goodness,” I lift my hand to my lips in mock shock. “Someone has done his homework.”
“Careful, sweetheart,” he swats my bottom. “I might have to pull you over my knee.”
“I might like that,” I whisper bravely, and Richard doesn’t give me time to back out. He lifts me up easily and carries me to the couch. He sits and pulls me face-down over his knee, but he doesn’t spank me. He just runs his hands over my back and bottom. My skin seems to come to life under his touch because suddenly, I’m very aware of every inch of my body.
Oh, I’m a shifter. I’m not embarrassed about nudity. That sort of thing is a human trait, and it’s one I’m happy not to deal with, but being touched? This is up close and personal. This is different.
Richard’s hands touch me with practiced grace. He moves slowly up and down my body, carefully massaging me.
“You’re pretty good at this.”
“I’ve gotten compliments before.”
“From anyone I know?” I’m not jealous, but I am curious. In the time Richard has lived with me, he hasn’t dated anyone. At least, he hasn’t dated anyone that I know about. Then again, we all have our secrets.
“I haven’t dated anyone since I came to Honeypot. Once I saw you, pretty girl, I knew my heart had decided.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“Before making a move?”
“Yeah,” I swallow, closing my eyes. I let his hands continue to touch my body as I search for the right words. “Why didn’t you ask me out right away? Why wait until my birthday for this big declaration of love?”
“Well, I didn’t want to push you. When I first moved in, you were completely opposed to the idea of anyone coming onto you. You were still scared, still grieving.”
“It’s been years since I lost my Wendy. It’s been years since the divorce.”
“You hadn’t processed those things until recently.” He runs his hands up and down my spine. “That’s all right, Georgia. It’s okay, my sweet tiger. I was happy to wait until you were ready.”
“What if it had taken me years to be ready?”
“Then I would have waited because you are worth it.”
He’s shown me this so many times. How many nights have Richard and I spent sitting on my couch crying together? How many times has he held me while I talked about my daughter? How many times has he shown me that to him, I am important?
He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met and so many parts of me struggle to accept that I might be good enough for him, but I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough. If Richard thinks I’m strong, then I’ll be strong. I’ll do it to prove him right. I’ll show him just how brave this tigress can be.
I roll over in his lap. He looks surprised, but just smiles at me.
“Don’t want that spanking after all?”
“I just want you.”
That seems to do something for him because I feel him start to harden beneath my back. Soon his cock is pressing against me and I can smell his arousal. Richard just looks at me like I’m beautiful, like I’m incredible, and he runs his hands up and down my belly.
“More,” I whisper.
“Tell me what you want, beautiful.”
“My breasts. Touch my breasts.”
“With pleasure.”
Richard’s hands are soft. They aren’t rough like many of the people I’ve been with. Shifters tend to have rough, calloused hands. Mine are. Years of shifting, running, and climbing wears on a girl. I’ll never be delicate like some women. I’ll never be a gentle flower.
Richard doesn’t seem to mind, though.
His hands move over my breasts, caressing them. He’s silent as he touches me, and I close my eyes.
Breathe, Georgia. Breathe.
I seem to feel every move of his fingers, every little stroke. I’m already wet and ready for him and he’s barely started touching me. What am I going to be like in ten minutes? In twenty? Fuck, I hope he doesn’t make me wait longer than twenty minutes.
I might die if I have to wait longer than that for this.
“Your breasts are incredible.”
“They’re a little big.”
“Fucking perfect is what they are,” he playfully bounces one in his hand, feeling it, and a wave of sexual energy surges through me. I feel sexy as hell in this moment, and my hotter-than-the-sun roommate is so turned on that his dick is digging into my back.
He plays with me for a few more seconds before I move and straddle him. He sucks on my breasts while I grind on his cock, rubbing myself shamelessly against him. Our groans fill the room and I realize we aren’t going to be able to make it to the bedrooms. I don’t know whose room we would have sex in, anyway.
Mine?
His?
It doesn’t matter.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I complain, and I pull his shirt off over his head. I’ve seen Richard with his shirt off before, but this is different. This time, things are going somewhere. This time, the night is going to end with his cock inside of me.
Now I’m the one running my hands over his skin, kissing down his body. I pull off his shoes and socks as I run my tongue over his chest. I’m clumsy, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind. Then I undo his belt.
And our eyes connect.
I unzip his jeans and he helpfully lifts his hips as I pull off his boxers and pants. Then hit the floor, pooling around his ankles, and I just stare at him.
“It doesn’t bite,” Richard says, and I realize I’ve been looking at his dick for a long, long time.
“You have a great cock.”
“That’s quite the compliment. Thank you. It does tricks, or so I’ve been told.”
“I know some tricks, too.”
“I’d love to see one.”
“Okay,” I lick my lips and lean forward, swiping the tip of his cock. A bead of precum pearls there, and I taste it. I plan to tease him, but that taste makes me lose my mind, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I slide my mouth over his dick, taking his length inside of me. Instantly, Richard’s hands are on my head, tugging on my hair, urging me lower, lower, lower. I take as much of him as I can in my mouth, and then I slide back up, teasing him slowly. I flick my tongue along his shaft, then swirl it on the top.
I peek up at him, and his eyes are closed.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.”
I keep going, but he fists my hair with a little growl and pulls me back. I smirk up at him, licking my lips, and he chuckles, but kisses me.
“I want to come inside of you, Georgia.”
“I want that, too.”
“Let’s go to my room.”
“Let’s not.”
He raises an eyebrow, but stands up and pulls me to my feet. He kisses me hard, deeply. He kisses me and sends shivers throughout my entire body, and then he turns me around.
“Hands on the back of the couch, my tiger queen.”
I position myself as he asks and he rubs his cock against me from behind.
“Perfect,” he murmurs. “You’re so damn pretty.”
“Richard, I need you.”
He doesn’t tease me anymore, and I’m glad. He slides his cock between my legs, nudging at my entrance. I spread my legs a little bit wider and I can feel him there.
“Hold on, princess,” he whispers. He runs his nails down my spine as he thrusts inside of me in one smooth, swift motion, and he fills me.
“Holy dragons,” I groan. “You’re so deep.”
“I want you to feel this tomorrow, tiger. I want you to feel this and know how loved you are. I want you to know you’re adored. You’re special. You’re perfect.”
He thrusts deeper, harder, faster, and I focus on holding onto the couch, focus on not letting my wobbly legs get the best of me because this moment is incredible and he’s incredible for making it happen.
Richard’s hands are on my breasts, on my hips, on my ass. He roams my body as he makes love to me right in the middle of the living room, and I’ve never felt as hot as I do right now. He makes me come alive, makes me feel like the entire world is at my service.
And then his hand reaches between my legs, and he starts to rub my clit. The heat that’s been building between my legs grows and grows and grows until I can’t hold it back any longer.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me, princess. Let me feel you come.”
I close my eyes as the pleasure rushes over me, as my body comes harder than it ever has before. At the same time, I feel Richard coming, too, and his pleasure mixes with mine as we ride this wave together.
Yesterday, I never thought Richard would feel this way about me, but today, everything is different. Today isn’t just my birthday and the mark of a new year, it’s the mark of a turning point in my life. From now on, things are going to be different. They’re going to be fresh and new and special.
Because the difference now is that I don’t have to go through it alone.
I have someone by my side who wants to love me, who wants to take care of me.
I have my very best friend, and nothing can take that away from me.
THE END