Page 7 of Stolen Mate

No, she thought as she set the journal on the antique factory trolley that served as her coffee table, pushing the book away as if she could unsee what she’d read and eradicate the questions it had raised. None of what she read could be true. Well, if she was interpreting what she’d read correctly.

But then, how else could it be construed?

It had to be a fairy tale or the delusions of a madwoman. No one can shift between some kind of animal and a human being. She understood the concept of a spirit guide. After all, hers had made herself known from shortly before she hit puberty. Many a time being able to see the female polar bear lurking in the corners of her mind gave her great comfort, strength, and courage. But it wasn’t like she could just somehow manifest some kind of shift between her and the bear.

And the idea of her parents participating in an illegal adoption was ludicrous… or was it? She remembered a case in the newspaper from a few years ago about a teacher who had watched a child in her class being abused while the authorities did nothing. One day the teacher took the child and ran. They changed their names and made a new life for themselves. It wasn’t until the daughter was a grown woman and needed a life-saving donation from a blood relative that the truth had come out.

Was that what happened? Had her parents found her as an abused baby and rescued her?

Oh god, her vivid imagination was really running amok tonight. There was no evidence whatsoever that either of her parents had ever done anything illegal. Not so much as a parking ticket, much less stealing a baby or having anything to do with an illegal adoption. How would they even know how to find someone to sell them a baby?

Staring at the journal as if it were a time bomb waiting to explode, Tess shook her head. No. She was not going to be thinking this. Her parents loved her, and they were good people. She raised herself off the couch and headed over to her kitchen area to make dinner. Opening the fridge, she was assailed by the less than delectable aromas that emanated from it. She’d lied to both Cathy and Lara when they’d asked if she’d been eating properly.

Closing the door to the fridge, she moved her trash can over and reopened the door. She began to remove the offending items—leftover Chinese from right after her mom died, pizza that was growing some pale green kind of fuzz, something that looked vaguely Italian—the cover of which she was not going to open—and various and sundry other things. At first, she looked at expiration dates or tried to figure out when she’d purchased it, but in the end decided it might all be tainted and dumped the lot. Tess tied up the trash bag—thankfully one of the scented ones—and took it out into the hall, depositing it in the chute that took it down to the building’s trash bin in the underground parking lot.

Moving back into the loft, she disinfected her entire fridge and made a thorough inventory of what she had on hand and what she needed. She picked up her phone and ordered Chinese from her favorite delivery service—pan-fried dumplings and pork lo mein. The irony of doing so after she’d just thrown out a number of containers was not lost on her.

She returned to the couch, sitting at the opposite end from the journal, and stared out at Puget Sound. As she waited for her food, the rain began to fall and behind it, darkness followed. Gloom and grief had become her constant companions. She tried coming to grips with what was a growing belief that she had been illegally adopted. She had been stolen, but stolen from whom? Was there someone in Alaska who mourned her loss?

Stolen. It was not a concept that settled easily within her. Unsure of how she felt, she knew she couldn’t tell Lara—not until she knew for certain. After all, if it were true, then had her whole life been a lie? It called everything into question. It made her feel as if the very essence of who she was had been stolen as well.

CHAPTER 4

DEREK

Derek Grayson found himself in an all too familiar bedroom. Ever since he’d moved to Mystic River to take Kyra’s position as deputy sheriff, he’d had the same dream. It took place in a loft in Seattle. He knew because in some of the dreams, he wasn’t just in the bedroom. He could see the entire open loft space with a wall of windows that looked out over Puget Sound.

At first, they’d only been a couple of nights a week, but the longer he stayed in Mystic River, the more often they occurred. They were weird dreams because he knew he was dreaming, and yet in every way he could feel everything that happened as if he were there. He often woke with an aching dick and a profound sense of need and loss. He didn’t question that the woman to whom the loft belonged was his fated mate; he just didn’t have a clue as to who she was or how to find her. Seattle was a big city.

Derek gazed on the woman spread out on the bed before him like some fertility goddess of old. He didn’t recognize her, but her long dark hair and luscious curves called to him in a way no other ever had.

He crawled onto the bed, rumbling at her seductively. He could smell the scent of her arousal increasing, and that knowledge fueled his as well. He worked his way up from the foot of the bed, never taking his eyes off her. When he had covered her body with his own, he parted her thighs, making a place for himself.

Bringing his mouth down on hers in a long, sensual kiss, he savored the moment as his tongue tangled with hers and then began to dance with hers. The warmth flowed between them, and he didn’t try to keep his weight from her. She moaned in supplication and acceptance as her legs intertwined with his. She knew him to be her fated mate as well as he knew her to be his.

Even though his cock was poised at her entrance and all he’d have to do was steady her in order to thrust up into her, he refrained. He was no callow youth who didn’t understand his mate’s needs. He broke the kiss and began lowering his mouth to her throat, inhaling her intoxicating scent. She smelled of rainfall and the sea. Everything about this woman let him know she was his—not just to fuck, but to protect and cherish.

He trailed his lips down her body, giving her nipples the briefest bit of attention as he traveled the path to where her sex called to him like the sirens of old. He placed her thighs over his shoulders as he settled his mouth on her, nuzzling her labia and licking her swollen clit until she gasped in pleasure and sank her fingers into his hair.

He lavished her sex with attention until she was wet and ripe and ready for him. Her arousal was enthralling as he feasted on her pussy. Over and over he speared her with his tongue, lapping up all her sweet honey. After all, wasn’t that supposed to be a bear’s favorite thing?

Her hips undulated and she cried out, her body trembling before stiffening and then relaxing completely with a sigh.

Derek moved up her body, his hands sliding beneath her to hold her buttocks and tilt her hips so he was in perfect alignment with her pussy. He slid his dick over her clit to increase her arousal and prepare both of them for his penetration. Thrusting up hard inside her, he joined them together.

His mate grasped his biceps, clinging to him as he plunged into her, driving in and out and reveling in her response as she writhed beneath him. Her hands moved up to hold him close, her nails digging into his flesh as she nibbled on his collarbone, but it had no effect. Ruthlessly he plundered her body, feeling her pussy as it quivered all along his cock. Driving into her with long, hard strokes, he felt her surrender and relished it.

He was only able to combat the frenzied need to fuck her hard and fast by reminding himself that part of his job was to see her well and truly pleasured. Derek pounded into her, sending her over the edge into an abyss of ecstasy that caused her to cry out again and again until the sound of her orgasm was a single long, drawn-out note.

Derek held her close, not allowing her to move with him as he fucked her with desperation and need. One part of his brain still functioned well enough to remind him that as soon as he finished, as soon as he filled her with his cum, the dream and his mate would evaporate and be gone until the next time he closed his eyes.

But none of that mattered; he couldn’t hold off the inevitable. The all too familiar sizzle at the base of his spine began to grow as his cock filled with his seed. Just as his own climax seized them both, and she arched up into him, Derek collapsed on top of her, surrounded by her.

He kissed her leisurely as her pussy spasmed up and down his length and coaxed the last drops of his cum to spill inside her. He gloried in the unique singularity that encompassed them. Their souls were no longer separate entities; they existed only to complete each other.

“Mine,” she rumbled softly, nuzzling and nipping at his neck.

Derek’s need to remain buried deep within her was profound. His need to remain with her, even greater. The dream began to dissipate, though, and he was left alone once more, knowing that he would not see or have her again until night fell once again on Mystic River.

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