Grizzly Survival Read online

  It couldn’t be more than a hookup. For one thing, Dale didn’t do relationships. For another thing, Gavin had a nervous energy that suggested he was green when it came to relationships. And finally, the dude was human.

  Dale had a personal policy regarding humans. Fucking them was fine. Fucking them several times was also fine. Dating them or exchanging pleasantries was not. And yet, here he was inviting Gavin to his home—where he never brought his dates—and cooking the man dinner?

  And damn if Gavin didn’t show up on a bike looking like a million bucks. Not for the first time, Dale wondered if Gavin was aware of the existence of grizzly shifters and that Dale was one specifically. It was rare for humans to be so informed, but it happened occasionally, and Dale got the impression this man was informed.

  When Gavin finally lifted his face as he headed toward the porch, he smiled, but the hesitation in his expression lacked the confidence to match his clothing and the fact that he owned a motorcycle. Dale wondered how much experience he had with men.

  “Hey,” Dale managed to say as Gavin climbed the three steps to the porch. “Do you have tattoos hidden under your clothes?” he teased as he stepped back to let Gavin inside. It was cold outside. Gavin would have been chilled riding his bike in the evening even in the summertime.

  Gavin rolled his gorgeous blue-green eyes that seemed to change a bit depending on his mood or the lighting. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that,” he responded as he stepped into the house. “Not everyone who owns a bike is covered in ink.”

  Dale chuckled as he shut the door, mostly to cover up his reaction to having Gavin’s scent in his home. Yesterday they’d met standing outside. It wasn’t that Dale hadn’t inhaled and memorized the shorter man’s essence, but having him in a confined space was another story. Yeah, he never should have invited Gavin into his home.

  On that note, he shut the door.

  Gavin whistled low and long while he looked around from the entryway. “Nice house.” He sauntered farther into the great room, dropped his helmet on the tan leather sectional, and peeled off his jacket to drop it in the same place. All the while, his gaze wandered around the room.

  “Thanks. It’s a work in progress. I’m not done.”

  Gavin spun around to face him. “You did all this yourself?”

  Dale shrugged. “It’s what I do. No big deal.”

  Gavin’s eyes opened wider. “No big deal? Are you serious?”

  “Like I said, it’s not done. In fact, the hall bathroom is still just studded. I haven’t had time to finish it.”

  Gavin licked his lips, probably unaware his gaze was roaming up and down Dale’s frame. He was also turned on, which did nothing to help the hard-on Dale already sported just from watching the man get off his bike. The advantage Dale had was that Gavin was human and thus unable to scent Dale’s arousal in the same fashion.

  For long moments, they stared at each other. Hot as fuck. Dale tried to think of something to say and finally opted for witty. “So you’re saying you don’t have a single tattoo to show off?” He focused on the tight black T-shirt Gavin wore, the way it hugged his small-but-not-frail shoulders and pecs. His nipples were erect and pressing against the cotton, enticing Dale to suck them.

  Gavin smiled. “Never said that. I was just pointing out the stereotype.” He turned around, not answering the question as he wandered deeper toward the kitchen area. He ran his hand across the dark wood table top as he went by. “This is amazing. Did you make it too?”

  “Yes.” Dale was stuck on the previous sentence, not sure if Gavin had a tattoo or not, but more determined than ever to find out.

  “Of course you did.”

  Dale finally managed to get his legs to move forward and headed for the kitchen. “Beer?”

  “At the risk of sounding like a teenager, I haven’t ever developed a taste for beer.”

  Dale opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles anyway. When he spun back around, he asked the most important question of the night. “Please tell me you’re old enough to drink.”

  Gavin chuckled. “Twenty-four.”

  Relief. “Well, you’re going to have to learn to like beer if you plan to spend the summer in Silvertip. The two biggest businesses in this town are rival microbreweries. You’ll get eaten alive if you turn everyone down when they offer you a bottle.” He popped the tops off both bottles and held one out. “Try this one. It’s a pilsner from Glacial Brewing Company. The Arthurs own that one.”

  “Wyatt’s family.”

  “Yes.”

  Dale watched as Gavin took his first swig. “Hmmm. Not bad. Maybe it will grow on me.”

  “Sit.” Dale pointed toward one of the two dark wood stools at his center island. They matched the table and chairs. He was proud of this home. Every inch was a labor of love. But the kitchen was his favorite. The dark wood cabinets and floors were almost the same shade as the table and chairs. He had spent weeks selecting the brown marble countertops. He loved this kitchen, but he was a horrible cook. “I hope you don’t have an aversion to frozen fries. I hold my own with a grill, but anything inside the kitchen is out of my comfort zone.” He turned around to dump a large pile of fries on a baking sheet.

  “Don’t mind at all, as long as they aren’t still frozen when you serve them,” Gavin countered.

  Dale tucked the pan into the oven and spun around to lean against the counter. “A comedian.”

  Gavin was chewing on his bottom lip, his hair hanging over his forehead in a rumpled mess from the helmet. “Not usually. That one was just too easy.” He took another drink of the beer, his face scrunching less than the first sip.

  Dale was mesmerized watching Gavin tip his head back as his Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow. He was in over his head with this guy. And that damn lip between his teeth…

  Shit.

  What he wanted to do was round the island, spin Gavin around, and flatten himself between the younger man’s legs. He wanted to thread his fingers in the back of Gavin’s hair and angle his head to the perfect position to take his lips.

  Hell, there were about ten other ideas running through Dale’s mind too. Visions of flattening Gavin on his bed face down and thrusting into his fine ass topped the list. And his cock nearly burst the zipper of his jeans when he added ropes to his imagination, the thick cords wrapped around Gavin’s wrists, restraining them over his head attached to the headboard.

  All his thoughts were way too premature for action. He had no way of knowing yet if Gavin was even a bottom or what sort of kink he enjoyed. If any.

  Instead, he set his palms on the counter at his sides, white-knuckled the marble, and forced himself to remain where he was. “So, what do you do when you aren’t pretending to be in a het relationship?”

  Gavin swallowed, setting his bottle on the island. “If everyone in this town is as intuitive as you, we’re in a heap of trouble.”

  Dale frowned. “Why? I’m not understanding the need for the pretense.”

  Gavin sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  “You’re not out.” How had he not thought of that before now? Inwardly, he cringed. Outwardly, he stood rigid, pleading with whatever power of the universe that had made him attracted to this most inappropriate man. So far there was nothing about Gavin that Dale would normally find attractive. He was human. He wasn’t out. Worse—he was so totally not out that he lived in a pretend world with a fake het relationship. The man didn’t even like beer. He was a freaking college student. Dale didn’t go for anyone with even one of those qualities. Ever.

  And yet.

  Gavin winced, lifting his gaze. “No.”

  “And you’re hiding behind a fake relationship? That’s cold.” He stiffened. Why would any woman consent to such an arrangement?

  Gavin shook his head. “It’s not quite as unequal as you’re envisioning, and I’ve never once forced Paige to continue the farce. She’s free to pretend to break up with me anytime she wants. In fact,
I wish she would. It seems Wyatt Arthur is her…uh…whatever you want to call him.” His gaze darted to the counter where he reached for his beer and traced his finger through the condensation on the outside of the bottle. Had he been about to say mate?

  This was always a conundrum whenever a shifter met a full human—figuring out how much they knew without giving away anything unnecessary. Though it was interesting to note that Gavin could have simply asked Paige if Dale was a shifter and they wouldn’t be engaged in this awkward dance.

  Dale nearly slapped his forehead when it occurred to him that Paige had no idea Gavin was here in his house. Why was he keeping this secret from Paige? So many questions. He decided to fall back on his regular standard method of inquisition to put an end to the charade. “It would be so much easier if we kicked the elephant out of the room now rather than dance around it all evening.”

  The line worked perfectly. Any human with no knowledge of shifters would assume he was speaking of sex. Any human who was well informed would react totally differently.

  Gavin hesitated and then chose not to take the bait. Instead, he glanced at the row of windows behind the kitchen table. “I seriously doubt you see a lot of elephants in this part of the country, but I bet you have some grizzly bears.” He bit his bottom lip again as he returned his gaze to Dale’s.

  Dale glanced at Gavin’s mouth and licked his lips. “More than you can imagine.”

  “That’s what Paige tells me.”

  Dale couldn’t stand the distance or the dance another moment. He shoved off the counter, rounded the island, and pressed his front against Gavin’s back, flattening his hands on the marble on both sides of the smaller man’s frame. He set his lips on Gavin’s ear and whispered. “The bear population is larger than what you’d find recorded anywhere. You never know where you might find one.”

  Gavin’s pulse picked up. Dale could sense his reaction all up and down his spine. And the man was aroused. A good sign considering how dominant Dale was behaving. The scent of Gavin’s precome wafted toward Dale’s nose to tease him mercilessly. Sometimes the heightened senses of a shifter were more of a curse than a blessing. This close, it was all he could do to keep from lifting Gavin off the stool, spreading him on the island, and tearing his jeans open. Dale was dying to free the man’s cock and get his first taste.

  Instead, he needed to keep his head in the game and finish the dance.

  Gavin panted. “I’m pretty sure I’m currently being mauled by one.” His voice was weak, but Dale was impressed with his ability to keep up the banter.

  “You’d be right.” Dale nestled closer, his cock pressing into Gavin’s lower back. He fought back a moan.

  Gavin lifted his hands and set them on top of Dale’s, threading their fingers together. His voice was lower, deeper, and sexy as hell when he spoke again. “Not going to lie. I’m intimidated. I’ve never been with…someone like you.”

  “Say it,” Dale insisted. He would never be the one to let the cat out of the bag, but he needed to be certain Gavin was on the same page.

  Gavin shuddered, his smaller hands gripping Dale’s. “You’re a shifter.” His words were breathy.

  Dale sighed before he kissed Gavin’s neck and then licked a line down to his shoulder. Tasting his skin like this was even better than breathing in his essence. “Does it scare you?” he asked after nibbling a path back to Gavin’s ear.

  “Yes.” He turned his face to the side to make eye contact. “You’re huge. You have way more experience than me without a doubt. And I don’t know a damn thing about what your abilities mean where I’m concerned.”

  “You mean in the bedroom.”

  Gavin swallowed. “Among other things.”

  Dale lowered his face and took Gavin’s lips in a sweet kiss before responding. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” His own heart hammered in his chest. His cock needed release. It had pushed the limit of what it could stand behind the zipper of his jeans.

  When Gavin emitted a whimper and tried to turn his body, Dale tugged his hands from under Gavin’s and gripped his hips. “Dinner first.” He released the man’s slight form and nearly jumped out of contact, afraid he would lose his self-control in about two more seconds if he didn’t put some distance between them.

  Not even bothering to hide his plight, he adjusted his cock as he rounded the island, grabbed the plate of burgers, and headed for the door off the kitchen. He needed a deep breath of fresh air and a moment to pull himself together.

  His hands were trembling as he set each burger carefully on the grill. There was no way to chase images of the man in his kitchen from his mind. Gavin was clearly doing his best to put up a good front, but he couldn’t hide his nerves. Nor could he mask the tinge of fear on the edges of his arousal.

  This entire situation was ludicrous. Dale never had men come to his home. He never made them dinner either. He also didn’t start relationships with humans. Every rule in his book had flown out the window simply because he was intrigued enough by the man sitting in his kitchen that his dick had been hard for over a day.

  When he’d gotten the text earlier, he’d found himself shaking with relief, unwilling to admit that he’d been waiting anxiously to hear from Gavin for over twenty-four hours. His only thought had been to get the man in his space as quickly as possible.

  With a deep breath, he turned around and stared at the subject of his unruly lust through the row of windows that comprised over half of the back of his house to accommodate the view. Right now the view was of Gavin sitting on the bar stool, spinning his beer around and fidgeting. How much experience did this guy have? Besides the fact that Dale doubted Gavin had had many partners, he also suspected Gavin had no idea he was not just a bottom, but also submissive. And why the hell was this combination of facts making Dale’s heart rate increase?

  Dale stopped ogling the kid and headed back inside where his pheromones filled the space as if intentionally to drive him crazy. He grabbed his beer off the island across from Gavin and took a long swig. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

  “Which was?”

  “What do you do?” Again, Dale could kick himself for encouraging this exchange of personal information. What the hell was he thinking? It was like his brain had left his body never to return.

  Dale had needs. And he met them. In gay bars. In Calgary usually. There wasn’t anyone in Silvertip he would fuck in this lifetime. The town was too small. The inhabitants spread rumors like they were necessary to breathe. And besides, Dale was beyond aware of who in town was gay. It was much harder for a shifter to hide their orientation than a human.

  In fact, it was also difficult for a human to hide which way they swung from shifters. Even though Gavin probably did a fine job of hiding his preferences from the normal human world, he didn’t fool Dale from the moment he stepped outside. Although, the primary reason he couldn’t hide from grizzlies had nothing to do with the way he carried himself and everything to do with his scent. If he hadn’t stepped outside onto Wyatt’s deck sporting a hard-on and smelling of lust, perhaps Dale wouldn’t have been the wiser.

  Gavin licked his lips and spoke. “Ah. I’m still finishing my masters. All I have left is my thesis.”

  “In what?” If Dale hadn’t been so worried about what other people would think, he would have asked Wyatt a thousand questions about Gavin yesterday, but somehow he’d sensed that it wouldn’t be prudent. He wanted to keep his interest in the human to himself for now.

  Gavin gripped his bottle tighter. “English. Specifically Canadian Lit.” He sat up straighter. “I told you how old I am. How old are you?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  Gavin nodded, though Dale couldn’t read what he was thinking. Frustrating.

  Even though Gavin was younger, he wasn’t so young as to be illegal or totally inexperienced. Although, Gavin pointed out himself that he lacked experience. Not surprising since he wasn’t out to anyone but Paige and had spent God knew h
ow long pretending to be her boyfriend.

  When Gavin lowered his face, Dale continued, “Does my age bother you?” The Dale Gerben who had previously occupied this body for a third of a century had vacated the space. Why the fuck didn’t it bother him? Dale liked his partners a bit more seasoned. The timid act currently going on in his kitchen should have raised ten red flags and sent him running.

  But somehow, coming from Gavin, it was cute and endearing.

  Gavin lifted his face halfway and then one eyebrow. “Should it?”

  “No.” Yeah, Dale needed to regroup. He spun around to open the oven and check the fries. They needed a few more minutes. “Be right back. I’m going to flip the burgers.”

  “Can I do anything?” Gavin asked through the open door.

  “Nope. Just sit there and finish that beer. I think you’re going to need it for fortification before the evening is over.”

  Chapter Three

  The burgers were delicious. The fries were…cooked. And Gavin was nervous as hell as he helped Dale load the dishwasher. The sexual energy in the room was palpable, and Gavin had never wanted a man as badly as he wanted this one in his life.

  It had been months since his last hookup. Reese. They’d been together for several weeks—one of Gavin’s longest relationships—before Reese decided he couldn’t tolerate living in hiding and broke things off. Not a shocker.

  Gavin was staring out one of the enormous windows that he was certain provided an amazing view of the mountains during the day. He couldn’t see anything now that the sun was down and with the lights on inside the house.

  As if he’d communicated that thought out loud, the lights suddenly flicked off, illuminating the night outside to provide more stars than Gavin had ever seen, a full moon, and the outline of mountains in the distance.