Complication: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (Shifters Forever After Book 1) (4 page)

K
y froze
, his lungs full of the scent of her desire.

Her leg.

It was missing.

Both thighs were beautiful, full and wonderfully curvy, but one stopped just above the knee, where the leg was replaced with a prosthetic.

Why wouldn’t she tell me?
He’d asked her what she’d been up to. This didn’t look like ‘not much’.

She was quiet; it seemed even her breathing had stopped and her pulse had frozen. This woman was the epitome of strength and beauty, and she was watching him for a reaction. But what kind of reaction did she want? The only reaction he’d had was a complete desire to make her his mate and bond with her right now.

That won’t do.

No, it wouldn’t do. It would be best to make sure that that was what she wanted as well.

He leaned forward and kissed first one thigh, then the other. Placing an arm under her legs and one behind her, he swooped her into a carry and moved toward the couch.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was a whisper.

“I’m going to make love to the woman who’s been out of my life for way too damned long. That’s what.”

His bear roared agreement.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

With supernatural speed, accompanied by a crunching and tearing sound, she shifted into a beautiful black panther. Her prosthetic leg dropped to the floor with a thud that punctuated her shift.

She stood there, her panther eyes dark, glaring at him, her mouth parted enough to give him a glimpse of crimson and sharp ivory. Her hind leg was missing, just above the knee joint.

Ky’s bear growled in his head, then roared, filling Ky’s mind with a sound that reverberated and inside his skull as he shifted into his massive polar bear form.

She remained unmoved, ethereal and yet primal in her panther form. Every bit of her was the woman he wanted, the mate he needed.

A sound came from deep within her chest, a low chuffing that sounded mournful.

His bear grunted and approached her, then let her lean against his bulk, their pulses keeping beat with one another. He pushed to establish a link with her, to communicate silently the way that shifters could without speaking.

Let me in, Laken
.

He was met with silence. He was sure she had to know how to sync and communicate, and yet she wouldn’t respond.

Knowing she could hear him, he tried once more.

Tell me why not. Tell me why I can’t make love to the woman I want. Tell me why you deny me this.

His bear stepped closer to the magnificent creature she was. Her mouth parted again, teeth lethal and white, tongue a deep pink. Her features were beautifully feminine on a powerful frame, neck long and slender, body muscle-bound and covered with shiny black fur.

She released a low growl, half-warning and half-relenting. He came even closer, inhaling, his bear head only inches from hers. He took her scent in—trepidation, fear, and arousal.

I want you. I’ve never stopped wanting you.

She still did not allow them to sync together in their minds.

You’ve been through a lot. A whole lot more than ‘not much.’ Why are you so guarded? Where’s the woman who turned my world upside down and grabbed my heart like a thief in the night, and never returned it?

With a snarl, she pushed off of him, just as she had in her human form. She shifted out of her panther, back into the curvy beauty he’d fallen for ages ago. Her clothing and shoes shifted with her, the way clothing always did with their kind, but she looked like she’d been in a wrestling match.

C
onfusion ran
throughout Laken’s mind. Her emotions for him were overwhelming. She grabbed her prosthesis and pulled it on, fighting to adjust it, her fingers shaking and fumbling. That done, she looked at him, the polar bear with the uncharacteristic blue eyes. He shifted back into the man she’d spent the night with and had never forgotten.

“Why do you deny what we have?” he asked again. A question he wasn’t willing to let go of, clearly.

“I’m not the same woman.”

“Hell, I hope not. It’s been a few years. I’d like to think we’ve both grown up.”

She released a breath of exasperation.
Fine. If he’s not going to bring it up…

No, she couldn’t.

So how did I end up undressed in front of him?

Her panther screeched the answer deep in Laken’s skull, snarling that he was their mate. Laken pushed the panther back, tuned her out. “I made a mistake,” she said, and pushed Ky away too. Then she leaned on the barstool and shoved one foot into her pants leg.

“Laken. No.”

She zipped up her pants and grabbed her bag.

“Don’t go.”

But she did.

S
leepless
.

That described Ky’s night to a tee. Not a bit of sleep, tossing and turning, unable to get Laken off his mind.

Her leg… What had happened? Was that what was creating a problem for her? Did she think it mattered?

Surely she wanted him. Her body had told him so, with every scent it emitted. Maybe it was her heart. Maybe she didn’t want him the same way he wanted her.

He was walking into the SSC building just as David pressed the button for the elevator. They entered the car together.

“Hopefully the judges will have a decision today. Unanimous would be nice, but even a majority will work.” David pressed the button for the eighth floor.

“Let’s hope. David, there’s something I need to clear with you. Just so you know.” Ky rolled his neck, wishing the tension away.

“Go on.”

“I know Laken Araya. From a few years ago. I met her at a social event, but we hadn’t seen each other again since then. Not until the hearing.”

None of that was a lie.

Ky released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Why does any of this matter? Who cares if two grownups met each other under those kinds of circumstances?

Laken cared. And that meant he cared.

“I don’t see an issue. If you haven’t seen her in a few years… How many?”

“Three, I guess.”

Two years, ten months and twenty-six days, to be precise, but who’s counting?

“There’s no issue, but thank you for letting me know. I’ll note it in the files, in case anything ever comes up.” David shrugged. “Fedor Kozlov seems to be fairly persistent.”

“Fairly so.”

Ky made a short detour to his office to respond to a few emails, then headed down to room 408. It was mostly empty, except for a few spectators who wanted a prime seat, most of them sitting on the same side as the respondents.

L
aken
, Benedict, and Dale were assembled in the same room they’d spent way too much time in yesterday. Laken wasn’t about to change her mind on the matter. It was fundamentally wrong to part a child from its mother when there was no good reason to. She wished that Fedor Kozlov hadn’t made this a black and white issue. She wished he’d at least been willing to accept some sort of visitation.

“So, anyone have a change of heart?” Benedict glanced from her to Dale, then back again.

Laken shook her head.

Dale coughed. “I did.”

“Do tell.” Benedict leaned back in his chair, taking a drink of the coffee Secretary Parlay had brought them.

“I’m not voting for Dominic to be taken from his mother. And since Mr. Kozlov isn’t willing to compromise, then I’m siding with the respondent.”

Laken wanted to cheer that little Dominic’s life wouldn’t be upset, but at the same time, she felt sad for Mr. Kozlov. He wasn’t even giving having a relationship with his grandson a chance. Not with this behavior.

“So it’s two to one,” Benedict said. “At least it’s over.”

They made their way to the hearing room, and just as he had the day before, and every day before that, Secretary Partlay rang the bell, then announced them, and they made their way in.

First, Benedict was called, then Dale, then it was Laken’s turn. She glanced around the room, allowing her gaze to land on Ky for the briefest of seconds.

His expression gave no sign that he knew her. Though that should have relieved her, she’d have been lying if she didn’t admit it crushed a part of her to have him treat her like she was just another stranger.

Secretary Partlay stood. “Please rise.”

Everyone rose to their feet, the room silent except for the rustle of clothing.

Secretary Partlay faced the judges. “Have you reached a decision?”

Benedict cleared his throat. “We have. Two to one in favor of the respondent.”

K
y couldn’t say
he was disappointed, but he kept a poker face.

A clattering sound, wood on wood, turned heads toward the petitioner’s table. Fedor Kozlov was rising to a stand, albeit not very gracefully, his cane banging against the table then falling to the floor. Ky leaned forward to collect it, then handed it to the old man.

“Please sit, Mr. Kozlov.” Ky’s voice was low, but shifter hearing made it impossible for Laken—and the rest of the room—not to hear.

“I will not sit. I can see the writing on the wall. There will be no justice. None at all.”

“Mr. Kozlov, this is the way of these proceedings. It’s the way things are done. It prevents the loss of shifter lives. It wouldn’t serve the shifter community for our kind to seek vengeance under the guise of justice. You agreed to these proceedings.”

“They are a sham. A complete sham. And it’s rigged. I know it is.”

Marti Lee rose to her feet. “I won’t let this happen. I won’t have my son’s life ruined because of one bad seed.”

“How dare you call my son a bad seed?” Kozlov’s voice was strained, his color faded to a pale greenish-white.

“Do you know what your son did?” Marti’s voice was strong. She glanced at her son. “Take Dominic out of here,” she told Tanner Navarro, the large grizzly by her side.

Little Dominic shook his head; he didn’t want to leave his mother.

“Just for a moment,” she told him. “Go for a moment.”

The boy nodded and left the courtroom.

“Your
son
…” Marti’s strength seemed to have returned; her voice was filled with conviction. “Your son raped me!” She pointed at Fedor Kozlov. “He hurt me. He gave a bad name to both shifters and men!”

Fedor Kozlov slammed his cane on the table. “I—”

“No! You wanted more information, well, here’s your information. He never wanted the son I gave birth to. The son he
rejected
. He laughed when I told him he had a son. And then he raped me again!” A shuddering, silent sob racked her body. She buried her face in her hands for a brief moment. “He said the most horrific things to the man who has been a father to Dominic. He said terrible things about
me
.”

Ky looked at the old man next to him. His bear senses picked up the man’s rising pulse and the scent of his anger… but there was something else.

Kozlov raised his voice above Marti’s. “I demand satisfaction for my son’s honor. For my family’s honor.”

Shit. This is going downhill fast.

David stepped toward Kozlov’s table, and at the same moment a blond man strode to the front of the room.

“I am Bain Kozlov, brother to Vey, uncle to the little one known as Dominic, and I am son of…” He turned to look at Fedor Kozlov.

“You are no son of mine!” old man Kozlov exclaimed. His cane punctuated every word with a resounding whack on the desk.

“Nonetheless, I must stand up for what is right,” Bain Kozlov said. “This is wrong. Vey was full of bad.”

The old man’s face paled even more. His hands gripped the cane as he rose to his feet slowly, his body shaking with the effort.

“You already said I am no son of yours. What more do I really have to lose?”

The room was silent. The scent of dissension was thick in the air. A sudden noise, like the sound of someone choking, broke the silence.

The old man collapsed to the floor, his head striking the corner of the table as he fell. The room erupted in a frenzy of activity, several people reaching to assist the elder Kozlov.

Ky’s eyes locked with Laken’s for an instant before he knelt to see to Fedor Kozlov.

F
edor Kozlov was rushed
to a shifter infirmary in the area. Secretary Partlay released everyone else, calling the hearing to a close.

Laken didn’t know where Ky had gone. He’d left the room with Bain Kozlov while Fedor was being carried out. Perhaps he’d accompanied Fedor Kozlov to the infirmary.

Tired, she took a cab, splurging on the fare because she didn’t feel like dealing with the subway. Thirty minutes later she was at home, had taken off her prosthetic leg, and shifted into her panther form. She lay on the carpet near the fireplace, letting the warmth lull her.

I could still make it to Cozumel. Enjoy a day or two before Africa.

Except she didn’t want to go to Africa. She didn’t want to do anything but think of that damned polar bear shifter, Malachi Romanoff.

Ky.
She savored his name in her mind, letting it roll around.

Ky. How had she forgotten? He’d told her that night, long ago, at the clubhouse, after they’d had sex and then more sex, and they’d avoided making promises or saying anything that had anything to do with the future.

Her shoulder muscles heaved in an exhaled chuff. She rolled over and stretched—

A knock sounded at the door.

She froze mid-stretch.

She wasn’t going to answer it.
No way, no how.

Another knock. She concentrated her shifter hearing, but couldn’t pick up anything, not even breathing.

Pressure pushed on her mind. Someone was nudging her to sync. Wanting to open up a communication link. Only a shifter could do that; only a shifter who was in their animal form. That was dangerous for that shifter. If a shifter were caught in its animal—

Oh, hell.

She ignored the request to sync and shifted into her human form, then jerked her prosthetic leg on with a grimace. She yanked the door wide open and was faced with a wall of white.

Thick, luxurious white fur, and attached to a polar bear that was standing on two legs, eclipsed her view of the hallway.

Ky.

He pressed forward, his bulk pushing her into the apartment. He stayed in his polar bear form as she closed the door behind him and then he shifted into his human form.

“That’s dangerous, you know. What if you get caught?”

“You wouldn’t open the door. I had to take a chance so I could talk to you.”

“I have to pack.” She looked away, not wanting him to read the lie in her eyes. She didn’t have to leave just yet.

H
is bear took
her scent in, the denial, the desire, and held it in Ky’s lungs, trapping that scent where it would infuse his senses and overpower his logic. All he could think of, all he could breathe, all he could understand, was her—Laken Araya—his mate. His only mate. Fated for him, destined for him… denying him.

He would not be denied, nor would his bear. A growl began deep in his chest, sparked by her essence. He put a finger under her chin and tipped her head back until she faced him. His eyes bored into hers, his bear confronting her panther, assuring the feline behind that amber glow that what she knew of him was true.

The scent grew stronger, her femininity and her desire prevalent.

“Deny you feel what I do,” he dared her, his gaze more of a glare, his bear demanding his mate’s surrender.

“I didn’t say I want you.”

She hadn’t said she didn’t.

Ky looked at her lips, lips he wanted to kiss, lips she was sucking in and biting on, though her eyes challenged him. This woman would never be easy to deal with, but she’d always be worth it.

He felt her pulse surge with a burst of energy, and without removing her eyes from his, she drifted her hands to her buttons. She flicked them, one at a time, until the fabric of her shell-pink shirt parted, yielding creamy skin cupped in lace. The darker rose of her nipples was outlined behind the lace, pebbled and eager for his touch.

Her eyes still challenged him, as if she were taking his measure, as if she were trying to determine if he was there for the duration or if he would run.

What the hell happened to her to make her like this?

That question was driven from his mind when he heard the gnashing of the teeth of her zipper separating, then the rustle of fabric dropping as her pants fell to the floor.

The aroma that the motion released created a throb in his hardness that was matched by the drumming of his pulse in his ears.

She was undressing for him.

L
aken closed her eyes
. Fingers tugged on her panties, pulling them down, over her thighs, over her legs. Hands under her arms raised her, picking her up. Eyes still shut, she felt herself being lifted then placed gently on a cold countertop, making her flinch.

With warm fingers against her thighs, Ky pushed her legs apart gently, with a reverence that surprised her when she thought of the man she’d been with all those years ago.

“I won’t break,” she whispered, wanting him to be how he’d been that night, wanting things to be how they were, wanting herself back.

“I know that.” His breath was warm against her inner thighs, making pleasure whip through her, its tendrils touching nerve endings that were almost virginal again, after all this time.

“Will you ever tell me what happened to your leg?” Ky rose up on an elbow.

“A land mine. Not long after that night.”

“In all my time in the military, I never encountered that. Shifters heal.”

“Shifters heal when there’s something there to heal.”

“Point made.” He planted a gentle kiss on her thigh.

His hands cupped her heels, pushing them up, bringing her feet to rest on his wide shoulders. Emotions battled within her: arousal coupled with the shame of being on display with the lights on, the shame of having her leg on display. No one had ever seen her this way, not naked and with her weakness in plain view. She bit down on her lip.

Everything was silent. Her shifter hearing couldn’t pick up any sound of movement. She warred against opening her eyes.

“Beautiful.” His fingers traced the flesh of her thighs, starting at her hips and drifting upward, leaving a trail of goose-bumped flesh behind. As he approached her prosthesis, she closed her eyes tighter, her breath frozen, lungs burning from a need to pull more air in.

He made circles with his fingertips, tinier and tinier. “Open your eyes,” he growled softly.

She shook her head. “I can’t.” The tortured whisper was ripped from her.

“You will.” His voice was harder. “Look at me.”

Laken wanted to surrender; she wanted to believe that she didn’t have to worry about judgment. His fingertips lifted from her flesh, leaving her cold and wanting. Was he going to leave? Her eyes flew open, expecting to see his back.

Instead she saw his face, his gaze focused on her.

“You have to trust me.” He leaned forward and kissed her just above the prosthesis, then kissed the other leg in the same place. “Trust me.” His breath felt like a shot of whiskey, warming her on the inside, spreading comfort thorough her. He pushed her legs farther apart, then cupped her ass, pulling her closer, spreading her more, both at the same time.

Ky leaned forward, and she found herself arching closer to him, leaning in to him. His tongue lapped at the point where her thigh joined her hip, long strokes that caressed that sensitive skin, making her muscles clench deep inside.

The groan that came out of her mouth didn’t even sound like it was hers. It was another woman’s voice, another woman who was giving in to Ky. A woman with so much to give.

He looked up. “Give it to me.” That familiar flicker of gold highlighted his eyes. He’d taken his full bottom lip into his mouth, holding it captive with his teeth, making her wish she was the captive one.

She knew what he wanted. Could she risk it? Could she put herself on the line? Toss caution to the wind?

“Laken.” His face was so close to her nether lips that she could feel his breath as he spoke. “A woman as brave as you are, who does what you do…” He placed a kiss at the point of the triangle she kept trimmed for no one but herself. “A woman as brave as you, and you’re running away from your emotions?” Another kiss. This time he kept his lips planted; this time she felt the throb in her clit—a swollen barometer of her desire for him.

He leaned forward. His tongue found her enflamed clit and traced a circle, wicked and wanton. She raised her hips in response, pressing her mound closer to his face, her muscles bunching, her core flexing for him.

With long, slow strokes of his tongue, he teased her folds, flicking her clit with the tip, then sucking in her lips and releasing them with a sound that made her muscles tighten with yearning. Stroke after stroke, never going in, just teasing her, lapping, taking, passing so close to the place she needed him to be, and yet never yielding to her desire. Tension rose, cresting and peaking, not allowing her release. When he released a breath on her moist heat, the sound that came from her throat was primeval, a begging sound that betrayed her.

Ky’s hands—large and strong, a soldier’s hands, a protector’s hands—cupped her ass and pulled her closer until he’d covered her sex with his mouth so he could devour her. She ground herself against his face, her fingers buried in his short hair, her nails digging into his scalp.

With a quick plunge, he sank his tongue deep within her. A rasping cry spilled out of her as his tongue began a thrusting tempo that matched her heartbeat.

God, yes.

No. Yes. No.

She couldn’t put a thought together, her body completely surrendering to the sensations his worshipping yielded.

One whimper, one scream that she bit back, and her eyes were closed again, starbursts and flares going off inside her eyelids. She shuddered as aftershock yielded to aftershock.

Laken opened her eyes. Ky was watching her—and it was the Ky from so long ago. Or maybe it was that she was the Laken from so long ago.

L
aken’s scent
, her arousal, her climax, all of it surrounded Ky. Her taste was fresh in his mouth. Her emotions were raw in her eyes. This was so much more than the one-night stand they’d shared. She’d allowed herself to become his, and he wanted to take it to the next level. He wanted her to be his forever, just as he and his bear knew she was.

Her panther knew.

Laken was the only one who was late to the program.

He looked down at the stunning display of her sex, glistening with the evidence of her orgasm. She studied him as if she wasn’t sure what to expect. He pulled her off the counter, spied a bed through an open door and carried her there, then dropped her on the dark red bedspread. She lay there, propped on her elbows, eyes glued on him.

Silent.

Ky stripped with the brutal efficiency of a field soldier and crawled on top of her, not allowing his body to touch hers. He knelt in front of her and touched the hardness of his length. Her eyes were glued on his cock, a hunger in their depths.

He rubbed the head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum. When her tongue made a tiny appearance, peeking out just enough to moisten her lower lip, he lost it. He lowered himself, pushing her down, arranging his body over hers, feeling her moist heat rising to greet the swollen head of his cock.

Taking her hands, he lifted them over her head and tucked his cock against her opening, then stretched her, slowly, pressing himself deeper, controlling the beast in him that wanted to rip through the motions and claim her with a ferocity that wouldn’t be denied.

He thumbed her clit as he eased himself deeper until he was buried to the hilt, fully encased in her, sheathed in heat and slickness. Her grunt as he buried himself deep was fuel to his need. When she started to move her hips, rocking against his, pushing him deeper and deeper, drawing him in then releasing him, he ground his teeth to keep from releasing.

How could he tell her he hadn’t been with another woman since her? He’d fantasized, dreamed, wished, and hoped for something like they’d shared. No woman could compare to her when she was clothed. He knew no woman would compare to her naked.

He began to match her rocking with long, slow strokes, measured drives that were meant to control his escalation.

She groaned. He covered her mouth with his, drinking in the sound, swallowing her passion, allowing her to taste herself on his lips. He fully wrapped himself around her as he picked up the pace, driving deeper. Deeper. Harder. Faster.

When she cried out his name, her eyes open and dark with that amber flame in her depths, he went over the edge.

“Say you’re mine. Say it. Forever. Now.” Every word was pushed out of his mouth, propelled by his passion, ripped from his chest.

“I’m yours,” Laken whispered.

“Forever,” he growled.

“Forever.”

With a roar, he sank his teeth into her neck, puncturing the flesh, making her his with the eternal couple bond of his kind.

L
aken took a long
, deep breath, careful not to disrupt his rest. He’d bonded with her. The delicate pain-pleasure of the bite, followed by his tongue’s long, rough draw against the torn flesh, had made her climax again, releasing her from her battle, surrendering her to the love she knew he offered.

“You’re mine,” he groaned in his sleep. He flung his arm around her.

She couldn’t argue with that. She’d always been his.

All of her.