Chapter Thirteen

Captain hadn't texted last night, or even all day today, but that was okay. At least, that's what Sloane was telling herself.

She had shit to accomplish and needed zero men to get in her way.

It was her night off from her cashier job at the local grocery store, and she was determined to get rid of every single box in this place.

She wasn't throwing everything away, but everything that Ryan had touched, or that held a bad memory? Trash pile, or donation pile.

Today she was rocking cut-off jean shorts, red and black Air Max sneakers, a loose black cropped tank top, and a get-shit-done messy bun on top of her head.

She'd consumed two cups of coffee and was full of piss and vinegar as she sorted the trash and donation piles.

Anything of Ruger, or of her and Ruger, was an immediate keep.

It was time to rebuild their life, and not just feel like she was getting dragged through life. It was an important moment for a woman to have.

Her phone rang, and she blew a flyaway strand of hair out of her face and checked the phone screen.

Captain had texted, Can I bring you food?

She picked up the phone, hesitated, and then typed out, Depends. Are you bringing me food just to get into my pants and then talk about not knowing if you care or don't care? Send.

I'm probably going to try to kiss you again because I like the taste of you, but last night's Change was good for me. I have more control today. I won't ask for anything. Just want to be around you. Long day at work.

She connected a call to him because she'd gotten a little sliver of worry in her chest and wanted to hear his voice.

He picked up on the second ring. "Hey."

"Are you okay?"

"What? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you said you had a long day at work."

"Oh." There was a long pause. "I don't think anyone has ever asked about my day at work."

"Well, I'm poppin' that cherry. How was your day at work, friend?"

He huffed a dark laugh. "Keep it up, Middleson. Go on, push the bear into getting possessive again."

She grinned to herself and looked around the trashed apartment. "I've been working too. I'm unpacking my life and throwing away the old memories. It's been a roller coaster day."

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, using her words.

She shrugged, realized he couldn't see her doing that, and then answered honestly. "I will be."

"Truth. Attagirl." He huffed a breath and said, "I'm almost to your apartment. I brought you Moosey's. I can help unpack if you want. I won't even make fun of you if you cry."

She snorted. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey, I'm a changed man now. I'm sensitive."

She belted out a laugh and sank onto the couch, feeling a sense of relief she didn't entirely understand. All she knew was that it felt good. "Your day."

"My parents came to see me at work today. Fuckin' Gunner tattled to them about you."

"Whoooo, family drama. I remember your parents. I only met them the one time." She scrunched up her nose. "Are they mad that I'm back in town or something?"

"Not mad at all. Just did a lot of call-outs I wasn't ready for, I guess."

"Bright side, they care," she uttered softly.

"Yeah. I guess there's that. I'll be there in ten."

The butterflies were back. This felt so…normal. He was coming over after work with food and an offer to help her unpack? Okay, Captain Walker. He was securing her attention.

"I'll see you soon," she told him, and then they said their goodbyes.

Exactly ten minutes later he was pulling into the parking lot. She was on the front porch with a pair of beers that had sat in the back of her fridge for the last month, since she'd moved in.

He didn't notice her at first. He wore a frown as he got out and grabbed the bag of food from the back seat, but the second he looked up and saw her, a grin took his handsome face.

Oh, he looked so hot today. He wore a thin white T-shirt over his jeans, and a backwards baseball cap. His beard looked thicker today, and his eyes were a solid and relaxed stormy blue when he approached her.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then patted her butt as he passed and went inside her apartment.

"Slob," he teased as he stepped over piles of moving debris.

"It's so bad," she said with a laugh, following him inside.

He set the food down, then turned and shocked her as he lifted her right off the ground and hugged her. He didn't try to kiss her or anything, and she was still holding the frosty beer cans, so she wrapped her arms around him and settled into the hug he seemed to need. He swayed slowly, just holding her, and she eased into his embrace even more, just silently hugging him tight.

"Your mom and dad got to you, didn't they?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said gruffly. He kissed the side of her neck and settled her back on her feet, then took one of the beers from her, cracked it open, and took a long swig of it.

"Holy shit, this is good," he said on a relieved-sounding breath. "Standing on the front porch looking sexy as fuck holding a beer for me when I get off work? If you're playing the trap-Captain game, quit now. You won't like the consequences."

"What consequences do you speak of?" she joked as she opened her own drink and sank down into one of the chairs at the table.

"You're going to get me addicted to you, and then I'll be real hard to get rid of."

"Mmm. Good. I need loyal friends."

He offered her a wicked smile. "Keep it up, Middleson. Keep throwing that word around and see how far it gets you."

"You say friends too," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I know I'm full of shit."

She belted out a laugh and drew her knee up to her chest as he unpacked the food he'd brought. "Tell me about the call-outs."

He puffed air out of his cheeks and admitted, "I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because I want you to keep letting me in."

"Hey, you said last night you wanted to share the bad stuff and let me make my decisions accordingly. Spill it, Walker."

"You saying my last name won't make me back off anymore, just so you know."

She shrugged and hid her grin behind the beer she took another sip of.

When he had all their food spread out on the table and they had taken a couple bites, only then did he talk about his parents. Haydan and Cassie Walker were beasts in Damon's Mountains, and well-known to the public.

"My dad asked me to take a work break, and he and my mom brought up some stuff that I hadn't realized."

"What stuff?" she asked, letting the smile slip from her face at the seriousness in his tone.

"How like my mom I am."

"I remember your mom. She was nice to me."

"She was also a test subject in the Menagerie when she was younger. IESA had done a number on her. They did experiments on shifters, and she was messed up from it for a long time. My dad was the one who dragged her out of some awful habits. He motivated her to improve so she wouldn't lose him. He had to do some tough love on her so she could start living, instead of just surviving."

Chills rippled up Sloane's arms and she swallowed her bite, but didn't feel like taking another yet. "How are you similar to her?"

"My dad said they always talked about it maybe being genetics for me and Gunner. He was a monster back in the day too. Gunner got super fucked up over a bad match with a female when he was younger, but really, he was a disaster before that too. And I guess I was worse than I thought. Distant, fought too much…" He lifted his gaze up to her and looked almost…ashamed. "I went from female to female. Maybe I still do it, I don't know."

Now no smile existed anywhere near her face. "Why did you do that?"

Captain leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and stared at the fireplace in the living room. She thought he was refusing to answer, but after a couple of minutes, he spoke again. "I've been thinking about it, and maybe it was just the fear of letting someone get close to me. Nothing bad happened to me, so it's not like some traumatic event caused it. I just don't enjoy someone outside of myself having the power to hurt me. I always saw it as weak. Hell, I even thought Gunner was weak when he went loyal to his mate, Hallie. It always made sense to me to touch a woman and then leave. I know how that sounds, but I wasn't after women I could bring home to my parents. I was into women that felt the same as me. Detached was the way of life that made me most comfortable, and I didn't freaking realize any of this until my parents laid it all out there and made me feel like shit today. My mom called me a slut."

She giggled on accident, but covered her mouth with her hand to hide it. "Your mom sounds like she's still sassy."

"Completely inappropriate," he grumbled.

"That word is going to sit in your head, isn't it?"

"Well, I've never heard a man called that."

She sucked air in past her teeth. "Hurts, doesn't it."

"I don't like it," he admitted low. "The other day I heard Naomi call you a skank, and I wanted to remove her head from her body."

"I heard that too," she admitted. "It sat in my head, but not because I am one. Nor should any woman be called that. It sat in my head because it felt very unfair coming from the woman who broke up my marriage."

"Fuck Naomi."

She didn't know why, but it made her feel better to have someone on her side, and to have someone know her feelings on being called that the other day. He got it. He'd been called something similar today, and worse? It was from someone whose opinion he respected.

"Did the conversation end okay?" she asked. "Should you go over to their place and get back on track?"

He looked surprised and got quiet. "If I said I needed to do that, would you come with me?"

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

He cleared his throat, leaned his elbows on the table, and clasped his hands in front of his mouth as he uttered quietly, "They want to meet Ruger."

Her eyebrows shot up and probably showed off seven forehead wrinkles. "Come again?"

"Gunner told them we're hanging out and you have a kid, and they want to meet the kid. They remember you and they want to see you again, of course. But they mentioned wanting to meet Ruger."

"Aaaaaah. I see. You're freaking out right now, aren't you?"

"Yep."

Well, Sloane did love his honesty. "That's getting really deep really fast."

"I told them we were just friends, but stupid fucking Gunner already set the narrative in their heads. I'm going to fight him tonight." There was promise in his voice.

"Maybe instead of fighting him, we can try peace and love and you can fix whatever heavy tension I felt between you and Gunner for the majority of last night."

"No can do, Scooter. I tried to be respectful for a minute, and then he went to our parents as a grown man and put himself as the prodigal son once again."

She took a bite and narrowed her eyes at him. "They favor him?"

"Yes. Always have. Poor Gunner has temper issues. Poor Gunner needs understanding. Poor Gunner had a mate bond go bad, which, by the way, was his own fucking fault. He picked one of his friend's girlfriends right after they broke up, so Mom should be calling him a slut."

"I don't know if that means what you think it means," she mused, but he continued on like she hadn't talked at all.

"Poor Gunner is out of control of his animal and is having trouble maintaining friendships, which is also his fault because he's a splinter. Poor Gunner was given an Alpha position in a brand-new Crew from Damon Daye himself. Poor Gunner needs me in his Crew because that's what good brothers do. My whole existence has revolved around what is happening with Gunner, but you know what?"

"What?" she asked softly.

"I existed too." The raw vulnerability in his voice drew her up short.

"Of course you did. You were on the honor roll all through high school, and a multi-sport athlete, and social, and in all the clubs, and you were nice to people, and you were strong."

"I don't know about that."

"You looked strong. Tough. Untouchable. If anyone went at you, you laughed them off or put them in their place. By your junior year, no one wanted to mess with you. Your reputation was pretty big."

"Yeah, and do you know where all that effort came from?"

"Where?"

"I was desperately trying to be as big as Gunner's problems. I was doing it in a way that felt right, and no one gave a shit."

"I did."

He got quiet and just stared at her.

"I watched you. Even after we had our moment and you stopped talking to me, I was still proud of you. I was still enamored. I still felt the way other people looked at you with respect. I bet your parents appreciated you being the easier son more than they know how to say."

He cleared his throat and frowned down at his food. After a few moments of heavy silence, he said, "They have said it, I just didn't understand what they meant until now."

"You dumb boy," she joked. "With your communication and trust issues."

He snorted. "Whatever. I'm a gem."

She giggled. "Mess, but hey, so am I. There's no shame in the mess. Perfection is for losers."

He chuckled and took a big bite of brisket sandwich. "I was trying to have a pity party, and you took the wind out of my sails."

"Mmm, try harder."

"Maybe you should be a therapist."

"Alas, I have no time for that. I have a very important job."

"Oh yeah? Where do you work?"

"You are looking at the day-shift low-man cashier for Grunt's Grocery. I am celebrating my one-month anniversary there tomorrow."

"You work at Grunt's?" he asked. "Really?"

"I'm living the dream."

"That was the grocery store I grew up going to. Okay, pop quiz, where is the cat food?"

"Aisle nine."

"Nicely done."

She shrugged. "I'm a fast learner. I have eyes on that head cashier position. Sandra Mosley has the best register, and I'm gunning for her spot. My register keeps glitching and I have to have management come fix it like four times a day."

"Huh. Maybe I'll come shop at your store sometime."

"Maybe I'll wear my cashier apron lower if I know you're coming in."

"Whooo, seductive."

She was giggling really good now.

"Thank you," he said suddenly.

"For what?"

"For listening to me whine about my brother. I've never told anyone that stuff before."

Something about that drew heat up her neck and into her cheeks. She liked that he trusted her to vent to. She also liked that he didn't stay in a bad mood long, and came out of it easily with a smile.

"Want to see something crazy?" she asked.

"Is it your red bra strap? Because I've already seen it. I've been staring at it half this entire time I've been in here."

She laughed and tucked it back under her tank top. "No, and it's not my matching red lace panties either."

Captain's face went blank. He pursed his lips and froze like a statue. A laugh consumed her at his dumbfounded expression. He was easy to get to.

"Just kidding, I'm wearing granny panties in a festive color."

"Even better," he growled, the glint of teasing back in his eyes.

"You say that until you realize they are control-top granny panties to keep my stomach in and cover my stretch marks." Yep, that was a test.

Without one second of hesitation, he said, "I want to see."

She frowned, the teasing leaving her system completely. "You want to see my stretch marks?"

"Yep."

She wrapped her arms around her middle. "I don't…I don't know. They're kind of a lot."

His eyes narrowed. "You don't have to show me, but just so I know where this reaction is coming from, do they make you feel insecure, and if so, why?"

She'd never talked about them before, and this entire conversation had been a roller coaster. She didn't know if she liked that he kept her on her toes and flowing from one conversation to the next.

"Maybe a little insecurity. I bet your body is perfect."

He huffed a single, "Ha." And then he stood and peeled his white T-shirt over his head, and she stifled a gasp.

His entire torso was laden with solid muscles, but adorned with a myriad of scars. She probably looked horrified right now, so she composed her face and stood up, then closed the few feet between them to trace a trio of what looked like claw marks down his ribs.

"I guarantee your warrior stripes are more noble than mine," he said softly.

"What are they from?"

"From being a shifter," he said simply.

Her breath quickened as she considered what she was about to do. "This isn't scandalous, because it's not a regular bra. It's a lacy bralette, and some of the young people nowadays even wear them as tops."

He chuckled and said, "The young people? How old do you think we are?"

She blew out three quick breaths to pump herself up, grasped the hem of her tank top, and told him, "Be kind," before she peeled her tank top over her head.

She had her eyes squeezed tightly closed as she let the fabric of her tank top drop from her fingertips to the floor. He didn't say anything. That was bad. Right?

Sloane eased one eye open to make sure he hadn't run out the door and disappeared forever.

Captain stood there, dragging his too-bright silver gaze down her bralette to her stomach, legs, and back up. His hungry smile said he wasn't running anywhere.

"Be kind?" he asked. "Be kind?" he repeated louder. "Woman, you have lost your damn mind. You are an eleven."

"Out of fifty?" she asked in a high-pitched voice.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed, dropping down to his knees. "You're ridiculous." He gripped her waist and studied the stretch marks on her stomach. It looked like a T. rex had taken his little claws and raked them down both sides. The scars were silver with age, but obvious. Captain brushed his thumb down one of them. "I don't know what this says about me, but I think these are so fucking hot."

"My stretch marks?" she asked in disbelief.

"You got them carrying a cub. You got him here safe. Hell yeah they're hot." And then he shocked her completely by rubbing his face across the sensitive skin of her stomach, first one way and then the other, like he was a cat marking his territory.

His rough beard felt good against her skin, and after the third pass, she ran her fingers through his hair, gripped it in the back, and angled his head up to look at her. "Healer," she accused him.

A slow, sexy smile stretched across his lips. "Maybe that's you, not me."

"We are making bad decisions," she pointed out.

He slid his strong hands up the backs of her legs and into the cut-off hem of her jean shorts, and grabbed her ass hard. "Oh, the worst decisions."

Sloane clawed her nails gently up the muscular curves of his shoulders and murmured, "We are not being good friends."

Captain gently clamped his teeth onto her stomach, then released her with a kiss there. "We make terrible friends," he agreed.

"We are probably going to have lots of regrets if we don't stop now," she pointed out.

"Maybe," he rumbled from where he sat on the floor. He spun her around and eased her down onto his lap, facing away from him. Against her ear, he murmured, "Or maybe you'll think about this memory and smile for the rest of your life."

Sloane rolled her eyes closed and leaned back against him, drew her knees up as he cupped her sex with his big, powerful hand.

"Maybe every time you need a good fuck now, you'll call me to take care of you," Captain rumbled against her ear.

Sloane slid her hands up behind his neck and arched her back as he pressed his fingertips in just the right spot over her jean shorts.

Ooooh, he was good.

He pulled her sneakers off and tossed them, unsnapped her shorts and ripped the zipper down, then pushed the shorts down her thighs until she could flick them off her ankles. He took the panties right with them.

The low rumble of his growl didn't sound as terrifying as it had when she was younger. Now she knew the animal existed in these moments. The growl didn't mean he wanted to hurt her. Sometimes the growl meant he was satisfied.

Captain slipped his fingers against her wet folds, and Sloane writhed against his touch. It had been so long. He worked her up smoothly, rubbing her, preparing her, and at last, when she was chanting his name in a pleading whisper, he slid his finger inside of her and dragged her to completion so fast, she murmured an apology.

"Noooooo," he uttered as he pulled her red bralette over her head and cupped her breasts. "No apologizing here. Not with me. I'm learning your body. You did so good."

Every word he murmured against her ear was consuming. When he dragged her back against his bare chest, slid two fingers inside of her, and whispered, "I want another one," she was lost to his control over her body. She gripped the back of his neck and rolled her hips against his touch. His chest felt so warm and powerful against her back as he moved his body with hers. She came again fast, and hard, bucking and crying out as her release racked her body with throbbing pleasure.

"Goooood," he rumbled in a gritty voice. "Good girl."

Lungs burning as she drew in breath, she turned in his arms and faced him.

His hooded eyes were bright silver and glowing, and his facial features and canines were sharper. He looked caught between man and bear.

Drunk on what he was doing to her body, she unfastened the snap on his jeans and pulled the zipper down slowly, then pushed his pants down, eyes on his.

Captain lifted his chin higher into the air, and a wicked smile took his lips. "You gonna let me have it?"

"Depends," she said against his lips as she straddled him.

"Depends on what?"

"If you say please." She rolled her hips against him, dragging his huge, stone-hard dick against her.

"Mmmmm," he rumbled. "I don't beg."

Sloane kissed his lips and then dragged her kisses to his jawline, then to his throat. "That's too bad," she whispered. And then she clamped her teeth onto the skin at his throat. He threw his head back and let off an animalistic sound. "Maybe I'll just tease you tonight then."

Oh, her confidence was up there now. She could tell she affected him, and all of her insecurities from Ryan's treatment had faded away.

Captain stayed docile enough for her until she teased his cock with her slick entrance. Then he tensed and reached up to massage her breasts. "Perhaps you should beg me ," he said low.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you know what my fingers can do. Imagine my cock buried deep inside you."

Hot. This man was so freaking hot.

"I guess we are at a standstill," she said, gliding up and down his swollen cock.

He made a helpless sound and rolled his head back, closed his eyes, and gritted out a curse.

"Beg me," she said, rolling her hips so that the tip of his cock stayed nestled right near her entrance.

"I need it," he gritted out, tense.

"Say it. Say please."

She rolled her hips again, hand gripping the back of his neck.

"Sloane! Please!"

She grinned against his lips and whispered, "Good man." And then she slowly eased over his shaft.

"Fuck!" he yelled, pulling her down onto him. He rolled her over onto her back and drove into her, staying deep as he pulsed. "Give me another one," he said as he wrapped his hand in the back of her hair and moved his hips against hers.

She cried out and arched against the floor, eyes closed to the world.

He filled her up, consuming every inch of her sensitive skin. Captain was everywhere. He was everything. Nothing existed outside of his touch.

He kissed her hard, and she opened her eyes enough to see the tension in his arm muscles. She watched his torso move over her, his muscles flexing with the movement. His eyes were so light now and couldn't pass for human, but she wasn't scared. She liked seeing him like this. She liked seeing the other side of him.

He was bucking into her, but saw her eyes on him and slowed. His eyes were so serious as he locked his gaze on hers and searched her soul as he drove them closer to release.

She'd never done this before—not like this!

He touched her cheek and shook his head. "Neither have I."

Wait, had she said that out loud?

He kissed her and eased back, thrusting into her slow, and deep, slow and deep, eyes on hers.

She couldn't look away. She couldn't even blink. She didn't want to break this moment that felt so important as he pushed them closer, closer.

Her body shattered suddenly and she cried out his name, every muscle tensing with the intensity of her release.

He dragged out every last pulse of pleasure, then leaned down and told her, "You almost had me, siren. Flip over."

Mmm, monster. She hid her sated smile as she leaned up and whispered against his ear, "Yes, sir."

A dark chuckle escaped him as he pushed off her far enough for her to roll onto her stomach and angle her ass toward him.

He slid his thick cock into her, and she groaned in pleasure.

"You like it from behind?" he asked low as he moved inside of her.

"I like you behind me."

"Who's the animal now?" he asked.

She grinned wickedly to herself, her cheek swelling against the carpet with the expression. "Me."

He bucked into her harder, and deeper, his hand sliding to her breast. With her face angled like this, she could see the tension in his strong arm as he bucked into her. For the rest of her life, she would never forget this powerful being over her, driving into her, making sure he'd taken care of her release a few times before he took his own pleasure from her body.

"You want it?" he growled into her ear as he slid his hand from her breast to her throat.

"Give it to me," she whispered as the tension built to an inferno inside of her again.

He gritted out the sexiest sound as he pulsed fiery heat into her body, and oh, she was gone again. Her body imploded with bliss and matched his pulsing release.

Never in her life had she felt something so good. So big. So important.

Every cell in her body was reaching for him as he slammed into her again and again.

When he slowed and then stilled, she went boneless against the carpet.

"Stay there," he demanded, and she obeyed. She had no choice. She couldn't move if she tried.

He left, and returned a few minutes later with a warm washcloth. She'd never seen a man be more caring than Captain as he washed her thighs and her sex. When he was done, he lifted her easily up into his arms and then stepped carefully over the mess of the living room and into her bedroom. He settled her onto the bed and then laid beside her, pulling the comforter over both of their tangled legs.

She didn't feel the need to fill the space with words right now, and neither did he.

Captain seemed content to just look at her and explore her skin under the covers with the tips of his fingers.

A tiny, soft smile kept taking his lips, and she answered with a smile of her own each time.

There were no words needed here. Sloane's body was shaking and sated from what he'd just done to her, but he wasn't rushing her recovery.

Captain seemed happy to just sit in the moment with her, and for the rest of her life she would remember this.

He'd been right. He could be addictive. He could make her forget everything.

Captain could be the size of a mountain and blot out everything in the world outside of him.

Sloane nestled closer to him, and he responded by wrapping his strong arms around her. "I've got you," he murmured against her ear.

He didn't know it, and she would never say it out loud, but those were the most important words any man had ever uttered to her.