[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, werewolves, shape-shifters, HEA]
Bran is a man cursed to spend twenty-five years in his feral form and only six months in his human one. Love may be able to break the cycle but magic is better left to the storybooks, even if that means living like an animal.
Justin Taylor has had a bad stroke of luck lately. He was fired from his job, estranged from his parents, and a bear is eating his marshmallows. When the bear turns into a handsome man as magically as Cinderella’s pumpkin at midnight, he thinks his luck might be turning around. That is, until his one-night stand brains himself with a sink and necessitates a hospital visit.
Humans and bears might not usually mix but fate keeps drawing them together even after they’ve decided to call it quits. If they can survive bad luck, stubborn bears, and bad deals with mob bosses, they might just find that love can cure any curse.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Jana Downs is a Siren-exclusive author.
Not paying attention had never served him well in the past, and now was no exception.
He slammed into a big, dark, hairy body and bounced back to land once again on his ass. He winced as his tailbone hit the hard ground and then let out a squeak as it dawned on him exactly what he’d ran into. He didn’t know that bears could move that fast.
His flashlight was way out of reach, and he didn’t dare look away as the bear stood up on two legs, the shadowy body obscuring everything else in the world.
The sound was abruptly cut off as the bear’s muscular body shimmered, startling him out of his hysteria. The black mass pulsed as the fine hairs on Justin’s arms rose with the electric energy in the air. Great. I’m going to be hit by lightning while getting attacked by a grizzly bear in the pouring fucking rain. His life could suck it. He was waving the proverbial white flag of surrender at this point.
The bear’s body compressed, shrinking before Justin’s rain-blurred vision as something insane happened right in front of him. A few seconds later a very man-shaped bear collapsed beside him in the soppy ground.
Justin was speechless for a good thirty seconds. “Holy moley! You’re one of the Nightkin!” he shouted when he was able to force his vocal chords to work. “Whoa! I’ve only read about you guys in books.” Paranormals weren’t unheard of, but Justin had never had the privilege of knowing one, at least one he knew for sure was a shifter. Justin had always been under the impression that bear shifters didn’t exist though.
The man on the ground groaned. “Bleeding hell, it’s cold without hair.” The Nightkin pushed himself into a sitting position, his shadowy body only an impression of good fitness to Justin’s gaze. “Come on. We need to get out of the rain.”
Isn’t that supposed to be my line? “Where?”
That made sense. That was where Justin had been going. “Wait, you were stealing my marshmallows and you knew that it was wrong?” he asked as understanding dawned. While he disagreed with the principle of hating all Nightkins on sight because of some misplaced view of natural and unnatural, he could understand the annoyance of using special powers to steal from someone. “You know how expensive those marshmallows are? They’re organic.” And had been formulated, designed, and tested by himself.
Mr. Grizzly didn’t answer, but instead just got to his feet like whatever Justin was babbling about was boring the hell out of him. “Do you have a vehicle near here?”
“Yes,” Justin said, pushing himself to his feet. “Do you need a ride or something?”
“I need to get away from an irritating Sentinel who is going to try and get me into a permanent relationship with someone,” Mr. Grizzly rumbled. “Why are you so talkative?”
Justin glared. The guy showed up, stole his marshmallows, scared the hell out of him, asked for a favor, and then insulted him? Hell. No. “You need to find your own ride. I’m not a taxi service.”
That seemed to give the other man pause. “What?”
“I said no. Do you not know how to speak English?” He crossed his arms over his chest. No way was he backing down from this fight. He’d taken enough abuse from the world. He didn’t need some other damn person telling him exactly what he was doing wrong with his life.
Mr. Grizzly shrugged and then ducked into his tent anyway. “Fine,” he said over his shoulder. “Guess human is on the menu in addition to marshmallows tonight.”
Justin flashed hot and then cold. “What? Are you crazy? No way would you do that. It’s against the rules. You could get into some serious trouble—”
The deep booming laugh that interrupted him shut down whatever other logical argument he was going to present next as another round of fear cut through him like a knife through whipped cream. “You’re funny, boy. What are they going to do? Curse me?” He seemed to think that idea was hilarious, because he started laughing again. Justin didn’t think any of this was one bit funny.
Justin spun on his heels and stalked toward the parking lot. Nope. He didn’t have to put up with this. He was going to go to his truck and leave, his camping crap be damned.
Halfway there it dawned on him that his keys were still in his tent. He looked up at the sky, cursing himself, camping, and whatever cruel deity had decided to pick on him. He turned around and stomped back to his tent. He was soaking wet, annoyed, and uncaring if the Nightkin really did eat him.
He jerked the zippered entrance open and ducked inside to find the Nightkin was drying himself off with Justin’s T-shirt.
“Are you always this rude to people you just meet?” Justin snapped.
“Are you always so hostile over marshmallows?” the Nightkin countered, otherwise ignoring Justin like he wasn’t there.
He couldn’t see crap in this light, so he knelt beside his bag and pulled out the lantern he’d brought along and then clicked the button on. The energy-efficient LED light flooded the two-person tent with light. Justin put the lamp on the ground and turned to the sleeping bag where he’d tossed his things earlier, putting the Nightkin square in his vision.
Holy Christ on a Ritz cracker. He was gorgeous, rugged, and very naked. In fact, the Nightkin was dipping dangerously close to wet dream territory. Justin swallowed. Square jaw, plush lips, straight nose, and eyes that almost glittered with flecks of metallic gold, where the hell did they make guys like that?
An arrogant smirk ruined the line of the Nightkin’s mouth. “Like what you see, human?”
They reached for each another at the same time, hands tangling in one another’s hair as their naked torsos collided. Bran slanted his mouth over Justin’s, eager to sample some of the delicious lips that had been plaguing his dreams the night before. He couldn’t believe Justin really wanted to give him a second chance after the debacle last night, but he was extremely glad that he was.
He groaned as Justin’s tongue snaked between his lips, encouraging him to caress and touch and explore every inch. His cock wept for him to take it out, but he didn’t want to rush this. He’d already lost his mind the night before and come like a teenager with his first dry hump, and Justin deserved so much more.
He ran his hands down Justin’s neck, over his shoulders, and then down to grip the tight muscular globes of Justin’s ass. He ground his cock into his soon-to-be lover’s stomach, reveling in the soft texture of Justin’s body. Maybe he hadn’t had a lover in a long time, but the little human seemed top notch as far as lovers went. He was beautiful and deliciously responsive to every touch.
“Can’t wait for you to fuck me,” Justin said, pushing one of his hands between them so he could knead Bran’s cock though his jeans. Bran’s eyes would’ve crossed if they’d been open as pleasure streaked up and down his body. Every nerve in his body sang with want. He wanted to come so badly his balls ached.
Bran bit into his bottom lip. “Can’t wait to fuck you, sunshine.” The hand on his dick tightened, and he hissed at the sensation. “You like playing with me?”
Justin panted. “Yeah. Please, yeah.”
Bran chuckled against his mouth. His enthusiasm was adorable. “Take it out and jack it nice.”
His obedience was instantaneous. Carefully, he lowered Bran’s zipper and fished his cock out, his enthusiasm more than making up for the fact that he was a little inexperienced. Something wholly animal thrilled in the knowledge that Justin was his little innocent. The possessive touch was unexpected but nonthreatening. It made sense that Bran’s instincts were revving.
“Can I taste?” Justin whispered, staring at Bran’s dick like it was an ice cream cone he was dying to lick.
Bran nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He obliged his human by going down onto his back in the sleeping bag. Justin followed him, reclining on his stomach between Bran’s spread thighs. His eyes crossed as Justin gave him a slow lick to his thick plum head. Nothing felt as good as Justin’s mouth slowly working his length. Justin’s sweet, hot mouth sucked him in deeper, his tongue playing along the underside of his cock.
“You taste so good,” Justin said, coming up for air and licking his lips.
Bran didn’t know about that, having never tasted himself before, but, judging by the look on Justin’s face, he probably tasted like candy. He almost chuckled at the thought. “Thank you, sunshine.” He wasn’t entirely sure if he was thanking him for the compliment or the blow job, but either way the response seemed appropriate. He took a deep breath as Justin returned to his task, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. Sunshine certainly liked to play. That was just fine with Bran. He liked to play himself.
His thoughts scattered as Justin’s mouth sank lower onto his cock, squeezing the tip of his length into the very back of his throat. Despite his inexperience, Justin gave one hell of a blow job. His hands tangled in Justin’s blond hair, gripping the golden locks in a tight grip. He knew he was probably pulling a little bit, but he couldn’t seem to help himself as pleasure assaulted his senses. His balls drew up a warning, signaling his impending orgasm. He didn’t want to come yet. With a sharp tug, he pulled Justin off his cock. Justin gave him a disgruntled look, and Bran smiled apologetically.
“You’re too good at that, sunshine,” Bran said, releasing his death grip on Justin’s hair. “I don’t want to come until I’m balls-deep inside of you this time.” Said balls were tight and aching, eager to come. His weeping erection wasn’t much better. It demanded without words that he get on with it sooner rather than later, its tears of frustration sliding down his length to mingle with Justin’s saliva.
“Then I guess you better get the slick then, huh?” Justin asked, giving him a cheeky smile. He liked this new side of Justin, this playful side, this sexy side. It was a definite change from the hesitant young human he’d met just last night. This sweetness seemed to melt away to sauciness, and that suited Bran just fine.
Justin reached over into an open duffle that lay beside the sleeping bag they were reclined on and dug around in its contents. Bran assumed that his toiletries were in there because when Justin didn’t find what he was looking for, shaving cream, toothpaste, and a stick of deodorant went flying across the tent from where Justin tossed them. He chuckled at his companion’s enthusiasm.
“Lose something, sunshine?” Bran couldn’t resist teasing him just a little bit.
Justin made a noise of frustration and threw what looked like mouthwash out of the bag as well. “I have some lube in here I swear. It’s just hiding from me.”
Bran’s chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh at the look of irritation on Justin’s face. “Do you need some help?” Okay, he might have been a little cruel to tease him since he was the only one in the tent who hadn’t had an orgasm in the past twenty-four hours, but he couldn’t resist. Justin was too cute for his own good.
Justin’s hand shot up triumphantly, clutching a tube of slick in a tight grip as if he were afraid he was going to lose it. Bran just laughed harder at the silliness of the moment. Never in his considerably long lifespan had he ever seen someone so enthused about finding lubrication. Justin stuck his tongue out, the move equal parts childish and adorable. “You would be singing a different tune had I not found this, jerk.”
Bran winked. “No truer words have ever been spoken, sunshine.” He extended his hand, palm up. “Now let me reward you for your successful hunt.” That finally got a blush to rise on Justin’s pale cheeks. The primrose color suited him.
The tension that had eased off somewhat during their quest for lubrication came bubbling back to the surface as their eyes locked. The urgency wrapped around his cock and squeezed, reminding him that coming was of paramount importance and their time was limited. God only knew when Trigger would find them and demand Bran get back to the business of finding his one true love or whatever other nonsense Trigger could think up to torture him with.
“So,” Justin began, handing Bran the unopened pack of lube. “You want me?”