Jim
I chose self-exile for a reason, and I hadn’t been a hermit by choice. Before, I’d lived a normal life. Went to a boring job at the mill, and came home to a beer and a warm home, where my human mate Nate would be waiting. Cancer, not accident, took Nate. Even after five years, I’m not over his death.
. I didn’t anticipate an over eager wolf pup barging into my property and life. Instead of ridding myself of Brody and saying goodbye, I let him stay. With Brody curled beside me in bed, I don’t dream of Nate. When Brody is beside me, I don’t think of anyone else.
Werebears mate for life. One soul mate, until death do us part, so Brody is a confusing complication. The pup doesn’t expect me to take him seriously. He’s a young pup with needs, and I’m an old bear of no use to him. Another puzzle I can’t seem to solve.
“Morning!” Brody pipes out beside me. Grumbling I need more time to sleep, Brody pokes at me until I turn and look at him. My glower fails to deter him, but I’m caught staring. Brody leans on one arm, grinning at me, flashing his fuckable gorgeous twenty-something lean body at me. On purpose. It doesn’t escape me his cock is pointing straight up at me, hard and ready.
“So horny so early?” I mutter, not rising to the bait.
“It’s nearly noon.” Brody whines. “I don’t mind rolling in bed, but you shouldn’t be sleeping.”
I swing my legs off the bed. “I’m up now.”
Brody wraps his arms around my waist, and nuzzles his head against my neck. Admittedly, the gesture is nice. I mean, that’s what pups do right? You see them in a pet shop, all helpless and trying to look cute, giving you their doggy eyes and grin. Too much work, you think, but they start rubbing on you, softening you up, making you fall in love with them. Day three and this is what this pup has done to this softie bear.
Sighing, I ask. “Hunt for breakfast?”
Brody resolutely shakes his head. “Come on, Jim. Let’s go to town. Eat like human beings and have a decent conversation like lovers do.”
I scowl at the kid. “I don’t go to town.”
“You don’t go anywhere. What, you’re going to stay holed up here, while the world goes on?” Brody demands.
“My life worked fine, until you came.” That doesn’t deter the pup of course. Instead, his smile becomes wider, and I’m starting to think Brody anticipated my response.
“Until I came,” Brody emphasizes, tugging at my arm. If he were in wolf form, I could imagine Brody wagging his damn tail. “Eat breakfast with me, please? For me?”
“Christ, don’t you ever give up?” Brody’s determination is impressive and annoying at the same time.
Most folks, both shifters and human, can take a hint. Brody can’t. That, or he has an extreme case of ADHD. Doesn’t explain why he hasn’t left me to my own devices though. Then again, can I go back to my life of seclusion after Brody? A part of me hates going back to the same routine and waking up to an empty bed. What good is life, if I don’t have my soul mate to complete me?
Did I have my chance with Nate? Will Brody leave me after he’s bored? Brody is a young wolf. Plenty of prospects for him, and his human ex is an idiot, but where do I fit in the picture? Still, the thought of letting Brody go, and letting some handsy fucker touch him—it makes my bear boiling mad.
“What’s gotten your fur in a tangle?” Brody curiously asks. Then brightens. “You want to shower together first? Then we can head to town?”
I’m going to regret saying this, I know, but I cave. “Fine, just once.”
I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I give in to my persistent pup. My. The word sounds right, although it’s a thousand times wrong. I can’t keep Brody. He has a future ahead of him, but why can’t I let him go either? That makes me a villain, a co-conspirator, but then...so what? Can’t an old bear have some fun?
“He’s smiling. Jesus Christ, it’s a miracle!” Brody exclaims. Mutely, I shove at him, but Brody takes that chance to lean in close and steals a kiss. I grip the back of his head, twirling my fingers into his hair, and kiss him hard. Our teeth and tongues tangle. Our hands grope for each other with surprising familiarity.
Mine. Ours.
I’m on the road to damnation, but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t know how this will go, how it will end, but I decide Nate can forgive me for this transgression. We part, panting. Brody’s eyes are wide, soft with emotion I can’t put a name to. Then his mask is back in place. Someone, this Josh, hurt my pup back, took a piece of his heart, the selfish bastard, but I want to be the person to mend that. Could a lone bear be what Josh couldn’t? Am I too old for this bullshit?
Brody laughs all the way to the shower and starts to talk about a story in the university showers. Christ. I don’t need the reminder of our age difference, but I find myself smiling at the funny parts. Brody teases me by rubbing his slick and wet body, his thick member against mine. He’s asking for it. Brody squeals when I spin him, until he’s facing the wall.
“Face the wall again, pup.” To my delight, he scrambles to obey. I run a possessive hand down his spine, the curve of his tight ass, and he shivers. Grinding my body against his back, I press my tip between the curves of his buttocks, but I don’t push in. Brody growls in frustration and I reach for his needy member between his legs.
“Are you going to be good?” I whisper in his ear, a game we’ve played before, and loved.
“Why, when you like me so bad?” Brody answers back, groaning, throwing his head back when I begin to fist his member. Up and down, fast and slow, I don’t keep to a rhythm. Brody lets out a frustrated cry.
“I take back my words, you vindictive naughty bear,” he says, panting. We both are. Together, it’s easy to reduce us both to animals driven by the primal need to mate.
The sound of his cries as I allow him release is like music to my ears.
“We’re not done,” I tell him.
“Take me, please,” Brody begs.
Unable to deny my pup, of course I do. I quickly slip out of the shower, practically yank the drawer to get some lube and return. Once I’ve prepped Brody, he’s squirming and whining. Tightening my hold on his hips, I enter him, sheathing myself to the hilt. I don’t last, and neither does Brody.
I hammer into him, my rhythm fast and relentless. Brody’s pleas to go faster and harder don’t help. I tighten my hold on his hips, groaning as the inner muscles of his ass clamp around my steel-hard dick.
“Fuck, pup, you’re so fucking tight.” I growl against his ear, reaching for his shaft. I fist Brody in tune to my thrusts. When I know I’m close, I change angle, hitting his sweet spot. Brody lets out a gasp. I target his prostate repeatedly, my hand movements going fast.
“Do it again, pup. Come all over my fingers.” Nipping the side of his neck, Brody screams out my name, and the sound echoes through the tiles. It’s enough to push me to the edge, to shoot strings of my cum into his ass. “We should start everyday like this.”
He sighs, and I take it as a silent agreement. “Grumpy bear, you’re going to be the death of me.”
I chuckle. “Shouldn’t I be saying those words?”