Hometown Pride, page 7
As she approached the house, a dim, yellowish light flicked on in the kitchen and she saw Tremaine, still shirtless, pulling a quart of ice cream from the freezer. Chocolate Brownie Thunder, which she could also appreciate.
“Chocolate ice cream and secrets are an unbeatable combination,” she announced.
He turned and smiled at her, eyes flickering down her body.
This time, she didn’t feel like hiding.
The tingling in his gut which he’d felt ever since the first time he wandered into the library threatened to take over his consciousness. He took a deep breath, smelling her arousal and sweat and the lingering edge of the fur she’d worn a few minutes before.
But she wanted secrets, so he willed himself to calm down and turned away to scoop ice cream for her.
He closed the patio doors behind her as she carried her shoes from where he’d left them on a patio chair and set them down, bending over in that stretchy skirt that made his balls ache. He reset the alarm before sitting at the kitchen table with just a glass of ice water for himself. She moaned at the first bite of ice cream and he almost bypassed the secrets part for now.
He cleared his throat. “There’s something that almost no one knows about me.”
Angelica paused. “You’re going to tell me?”
“Of course.” He tried to smile, but was sure it was more of a grimace. “It could impact your decision about having me as the father of your cubs. And I know enough about you to trust you will keep this a secret.”
She took another bite of ice cream and rolled it around her mouth and geez, but he was getting hard.
He cleared his throat again and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “See, my dad – the human everyone knows as my dad?” The one who had loved him, but struggled to understand him as he got into fights and trouble as he grew up.
She nodded, but narrowed her eyes. Yeah, she was smart and had probably figured out where this was going.
“He’s not my biological father.”
Her eyebrows went up. “And that lion who was just here? He is?”
“Yeah.” He sighed and leaned back instead, unable to figure out what to do with his arms, so he crossed them over his chest.
“He smells a bit like you. Which explains why you have all the traits of a full shifter lion and none of the lacunae of us half shifters.”
“The lack what?”
“Lacunae? Uh, the pieces missing. The gaps. Deficiencies. Like how it hurts and takes me a long time to shift and I’m clumsy. And how I don’t really sense hierarchy unless it’s powerful and angry at me, so I piss people off by making eye contact. I thought you did that, too, the hierarchy thing, but now I’m re-evaluating that and I think you’re just extremely dominant and don’t want them to know it.”
“That’s…” Tremaine had to sigh. She was too smart. “Yes, that’s exactly it. Though dominant, I don’t know about. I’m mostly outside the hierarchy.”
“How long have you known? When did you meet your biological dad?”
He scrubbed the knuckles of one hand across his beard stubble and she thought about him rubbing the stubble on her inner thighs.
“I’ve known since we moved away when I was five. My parents, the ones who raised me, had come back into pride lands before I was born, telling everyone Dad was my father. They formed a mate bond when Mom was pregnant with me, after my sperm donor got her pregnant and took off. She was lucky, because pregnancy hormones do weird stuff to mate bonds. Though my dad always says he was the lucky one, right? When I was five, Mom got sick of Ella’s mother’s bullshit, hating half-bloods, so we moved away again. My sister Vera had been born and Ella acted like a bitch at the naming ceremony, apparently, and Ella’s mom egged her on. They sat me down and told me. My dad held me and cried when I cried.”
“Your dad cried?” She smiled slightly. “That’s really sweet.”
He paused, watching her, hoping she wasn’t being sarcastic. She wasn’t. “Yeah, most male lions would never show weakness. But then, most of them are shitty stepfathers, which is why my mom dated my dad and not another lion when she was pregnant. I know it’s instinct and all, but, well, you saw how your friend in the coffee shop was today about a strange male. I would hope I’d never hurt a cub because he wasn’t mine, but I know the urge is there.”
Angelica set her spoon in her bowl and squeezed his hand gently, the touch both soothing and firing him up. “Yeah, and some bastards can’t contain the urge.”
That got his attention. “Like the Monroe boys last week? Someone moved them in the middle of the night. Schmidt, their stepdad, was furious.” Clive Schmidt had abused those kids, but didn’t want to lose his relationship with their mom. “Shit. I didn’t know what was going on. They were gone before I knew something was wrong with that asshole. I heard the younger one was hurt.”
Angelica frowned and took another bite of ice cream, licking her spoon, which distracted him for a minute. “I bet they ran away.”
He nodded, though she was radiating lies. “There are a lot of pride traditions that have suffered.”
“The pride used to find foster homes all the time, trying to keep everyone here and safe. Now there’s no budget and no interest. Not everyone who moves away stays in touch. If more people did, we could place kids all over.” She blushed just slightly and he knew she was definitely hiding something. “And naming ceremonies now are only for those babies whose parents kiss ass.”
They sat in silence as Angelica dragged her spoon through a wide vein of what looked like pure fudge and he got distracted again by her tongue.
“So that brings us to the lion who had his dirty shoes on the table a while ago.”
He blinked and tried to focus on the topic at hand. “Yes, it does. He’s from Texas and knocked my mom up before running off.”
She nodded, her eyes on her bowl, but her attention on him. Ears pricked, if she’d been in lioness form.
“He found me a couple of years ago in Washington. I knew his name and a little about him, but he showed up on my doorstep a few months after Mom died. He’s more of a loner.” The pride he was from was powerful and stable and had no time for an aging rogue who wanted to mess around with the pride’s structure.
“Like you.” She was staring intently at her ice cream.
He stopped in surprise, because he had been trying for all these months to be a good pride member. “Yeah, like me. I was sick of being an accountant, sitting in a cubicle, and living in a city and I realized the pride was falling apart. Russ was telling me how the pride was weak and ready for a takeover. I loved being here that one summer I came up and worked with Hank, building things. So here I am, fixing it. Or trying to.”
“So your sperm donor shows up here…”
“He shows up here every couple weeks to give me tips and strategy and encouragement about how to take over the pride. He’s a trucker now, though he should be retiring soon. Long haul. Usually, I just smell that he came around. He let himself into the house once, so the next time he came by, I had put in a backup alarm system and it called the cops.”
She grinned. “So when he said he didn’t want to bypass it?”
“He didn’t want to find out the hard way about the other backup alarm system.” He chuckled.
Her grin turned wicked and he almost lunged across the table to grab her. “Does it fire laser beams?”
He laughed. “No, but I’ll keep it in mind for when he figures out how to get past this one.”
They stared at each other, smiles fading and heat building.
She shook her head suddenly and looked away. “So you’re planning on taking over the pride?”
Tremaine leaned back, pretending more nonchalance than he felt. “My dad and a couple of his friends want to take control. I’m absolutely not putting this in their hands, but I don’t want to be alpha, either.”
Angelica winced. “Me neither. I mean, I wouldn’t know how to be a good alpha and I’m definitely not dominant enough.”
He had the feeling she was outside the pride structure, anywhere there were children to care for, but couldn’t quite pin that feeling down.
“And meetings and having to be nice to people,” she shuddered. “On the other hand, we haven’t had a good alpha in our lifetime, have we? Freiburg and the pride was where me and my mom ran home to when we needed it, but Ella’s mom was already pretty awful and Ella’s just gotten worse.” She paused for a minute, thinking.
Tremaine didn’t want to interrupt her, so focused on the squeaks of bats and hoots of owls outside and a distant lion’s roar.
“Would you consider my friend Macey as alpha? She’s very strong and protective of those who are weaker. She only has a little administrative experience, but can make people do what she says in a crisis. I don’t know if she wants the job, though.”
Tremaine nodded. “Yeah, I keep thinking about who could do it and who I would trust. Everyone strong lives somewhere else because they got shoved out or gave up. Or got a job somewhere else.” He was thinking of his ex-renter, who though not powerful enough to be alpha, would be a strong ally, if only he and his mate could get jobs closer to Freiburg.
“Mace might not get the physician’s assistant job she applied for in Middleton. And yeah, she’d have to have a job.”
“There are stipends for the administrative structure,” Tremaine said, his suspicions piqued. “I declined mine, but everyone else gets paid. And the alpha has control of the bank accounts. I just audit them.”
“I doubt Macey would want to be paid by the pride. At least not much. I mean, there are potholes the size of my house on Main Street.”
The evening was wandering far off the topic of sex and Tremaine wanted to steer it back. But first: “She sounds great, but I don’t know her.”
Angelica snorted. “Who made you the king-maker? Or queen-maker, I guess. Alpha-maker.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got information and my birth dad has ambition. Just a few more people and we can build something new.”
She grimaced.
“But I will certainly take your advice about who to contact who might be interested. You’re good with seeing through bullshit, right? You certainly called me on mine enough.” Tremaine leaned forward, his eyes dipping to her mouth as she licked her lips. “So do I pass the test?”
She blushed, which was always sweet on her light brown cheeks. “Which test? You want to be my sperm donor? That’s pretty fast. How about we start by dating a little first?”
The scent of her arousal filled his lungs. “I brought you ice cream, we moved your stuff, had coffee this afternoon, and I made you dinner. Four dates. Are you ready to go to bed with me?”
Her blush spread down her neck. “We already fucked over my couch.”
He startled slightly at the earthy choice of words. “We did. And if that’s what you want, we’ll do that again. But I’d like to get you completely naked and have you stay the night.”
Chapter seven
“Essentially, lion shifter courtship is an old-fashioned undertaking: the male lion shifter pursues and the female chooses or refuses. The male will push for more or accept what he’s offered. The modern difference is that they admit there will be a lot of sex along the way, even in relationships that aren’t going to work out in the long run.” Renard et al, 2025, p133-157
Tremaine looked surprised when Angel stood. When she started toward the hallway, he was swiftly beside her, hand on her lower back, urging her up the stairs and crowding her into his bedroom. He left the bedroom door open, letting the low light from the stairwell illuminate the room, not turning on any other lights. She almost told him to close the door before remembering they were here alone and he had engaged the alarm system. She shivered slightly at how alone they were, how far from any other people, human or shifter.
But this was Tremaine, who might be a threat to her sanity, but not to her safety, and she wanted him. She'd started wanting him the first time he loomed over her in the library, growling a question, and the feeling had only grown stronger since.
She enjoyed the play of chest and arm muscles as he unbuttoned his pale blue shirt and pulled it off and tossed it toward a chair. He turned toward her, his eyes reflective lion gold. “Angelica,” he grumbled as he stalked into her space and set his hands on her waist.
“Angel,” she blurted, rather breathlessly.
His smirk made her want to do bad things to his mouth. “Angel. Not devil?”
Her laugh was more of an exhalation. “My friends call me Angel.”
He tugged her closer and covered her mouth with his. A second later, she felt him grip the back of her head, his hand digging into her hair and pulling slightly. She gasped and he took full advantage, driving into her mouth until she moaned, then easing off slightly to lick across her mouth and nibble her lower lip.
“Angel,” he grunted before diving in again, his other hand sliding to her ass and smoothing over it, squeezing it. “Damn, this skirt makes me hot.”
“Spandex,” she said the next time his mouth moved off of hers.
He grunted and sucked her earlobe into his mouth, nibbling at it as she tipped her head to the side to give him better access.
“Take it off,” he said, his hands smoothing around her waistband until he found the zipper.
She stepped back and undid the hook and zipper, then stood still as he grabbed onto it and whooshed it down, kneeling in front of her as he went.
“Holy shit, you’re commando.”
She hadn’t put her panties back on after shifting and she’d been self-conscious all through dessert, but she didn’t care at this moment, setting her feet slightly apart instead and grasping his short hair and pulling him toward the vee of her thighs, where she could feel the slipperiness of desire. She was embarrassed for a moment by her boldness – how many times would she have to be rejected before she learned her lesson? But his enthusiasm as he spread her labia and touched his tongue to her clitoris made her forget anything else. His hands ran around to her ass and she jerked sharply as his rough, big hands began to knead. Then she forgot any embarrassment over that, too, as he brought a hand around to her front again and eased a finger inside her. She opened her stance further and his eyes cracked open to travel up her body and meet hers. He stopped what he was doing with his tongue for a moment, stopped moving his fingers and she moaned.
“Take your shirt off,” he demanded. “Bra, too. I want to see you play with your nipples.”
She opened her mouth to ask who had left him in charge, but he dove back in, sucking her clitoris and getting a second finger inside her, pumping into her. Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her cuffs and pulled the shirt over her head, dropping it on the floor as she reached behind and unhooked her bra, sliding it off as he stood and swept her up to drop her on the bed.
His pants were off in a moment and he knelt between her knees, rolling on a condom. He paused, one hand stroking up her thigh. “Pinch your nipples.”
She cupped her breasts, running her hands over their soft heat until she reached her nipples, which tightened further. She pinched them lightly and rolled them between her fingers, the electric sensation making her even wetter. His eyes went completely lion as he watched, one hand on his cock and the other gripping her thigh. Then he moved fast, lifting her butt up off the bed and easing into her. She gripped him with her legs as he pulsed into her three or four times gently. He gained speed and stroked harder and the world came to an end, she went blind, and her body convulsed with pleasure.
She felt Tremaine pull out and drop her butt back on the bed. His panting breath brushed across her torso and she forced her eyes open. He was staring at her face, expression almost angry. She could barely lift her arm to touch his cheek, at which point he smiled slowly.
“You’re very responsive.”
“So are you,” she managed to mutter.
His smirk widened and he leaned down to kiss her, hard and urgent and like they were starting again. Then she felt his hardness nudging at her and realized he hadn’t come. He shoved into her, moaning into her mouth. Angel shuddered with the aftershocks that were rapidly forming a new earthquake.
He took his time. No less powerful, but slower, with kissing and a slow drive and grind that had her whimpering. Their torsos were slick with shared sweat, sliding against each other, nothing outside of each other’s faces in focus, her hands traveling over the muscles of his back. He accelerated and the crisis built inside her until she was gasping and so close. He pushed up onto his hands, improving the angle and suddenly she was vibrating all over again, her fingernails digging into his sides as she convulsed again. His head went back as he groaned and pumped hard into her, his movement ragged and untamed.
Tremaine collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath for several seconds until he rolled off and grunted.
They lay still except for their harsh breaths, one of his legs still over hers, her hand trapped under him, his hand on her belly.
Finally, he groaned. “We might be too old for that.”
She giggled. “We should do it more. Get in better shape.”
He smiled at her, fond and more genuine than she had seen on him before. “Fine. You can be on top next time.”
She hesitated, wondering if he was commenting about her lack of muscle tone, but then he rolled her toward him and kissed her deeply and she forgot what she was worried about.
He stripped the sweaty sheets from the bed and tossed them into the corner, grabbing a fitted sheet from his closet to stretch over the bed and tucking the flat sheet in, listening as the shower went on and the curtain rattled across the rod.
He flipped the quilt over the top. Good enough.
They showered, exploring each other’s wet bodies with soap and water while they kissed so by the time they were drying off, he was hard again. They stumbled back to his room and she did get on top, riding and grinding slowly until he couldn’t breathe, he was so close. Then he held her still while he pushed up into her, moving her hand to her own clitoris to bring herself off. They both came hard, gasping again for air.
