Free Shadow Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifter Book 5) by P. Jameson Page A

done with it.”
    She couldn’t help her grin as she lowered her lips to his. He nipped her bottom lip twice before plunging his tongue inside to dance with hers.
    Gash shoved the door open with his boot and stepped into her bedroom. It wasn’t anything fancy. A white wooden dresser and nightstand to match the headboard. A queen sized bed, since she’d never expected to be sharing it with anyone. And a picture of her and Tana at her wolf mating ceremony. She missed that female bigtime bad.
    Gash stopped near the bed and leisurely slid Bailey down his body until her feet touched the floor. She was eye to chest, and nervous as heck. She’d only been with one other male and it was before her Ouachita days. When nights on the street were cold and lonely, and she was searching for love and approval in the stupidest of places.
    Where would she be if Cleaver hadn’t found her?
    “What do you want to do with your life, little tiger? Think long and hard, and come up with an answer you can live with. You do that, and I’ll do my damndest to see that it happens.”
    He didn’t know her from Adam. Only knew she was a shifter because he was one too. But he’d reached out a helping hand and she was forever grateful.
    “I want to cook. So that I can never go hungry again. I want to make magic with food, meals out of scraps. So that when I have nothing, I still have something. I want my power back, starting with that.”
    Cleaver’s smile was kind. “I know just the place for you.”
    He’d hooked her up with the job at the lodge, studying under Eagan. With one kind gesture, he gave her a family, her self-respect, and eventually her mate. She wondered if he knew how much he’d changed her life. She should tell him someday.
    Gash stared down at her with hungry eyes but he didn’t make a move.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “It’s like opening a present. I hardly remember Christmas morning as a kid. Hell, maybe we didn’t even celebrate. I don’t know. But this… you… undressing you… I don’t know whether to carefully peel your clothes back or rip them to shreds.”
    A giddy trill of excitement fluttered in her middle. Who would’ve thought a male— her male —would be so excited to see what was under her clothes. Doc had pointed out her best physical features once. Namely, her boobs. Bangin’ tits, she’d called them. And yeah, they weren’t too shabby. Maybe they should start there.
    With a deep breath, Bailey stepped back and slowly peeled her shirt over her head, leaving only her black cotton sports bra and leggings. Finding Gash’s wide-eyed gaze, she pressed her lips together waiting for his reaction.
    “ Ohhh … option three is definitely the way to go.” His voice was deep and husky. “More,” he commanded.
    His eyes burning into her gave Bailey the courage to shuck the bra, but when she was bare from the waist up, she struggled not to cover herself. Tight fisted hands stayed rigid at her sides by force of sheer will.
    Gash’s gaze smoothed over her shoulders and settled on her heaving chest, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
    “Mine,” he growled softly.
    Eyes never leaving her, he tugged at the hem of his black t-shirt and jerked upward until it was over his head. Slowly, he balled it up and then tossed it to the floor. He was a wall of muscle. Wide shoulders that cut into a narrower torso, and so many ridges she couldn’t possibly count them all. Though she’d definitely be trying in the future because she wanted to lick and bite each one.
    His chest bowed out at her perusal, and a soft purr coated his throat.
    Bravely she met his gaze. One more question, and then she was letting go of these last strands of uncertainty.
    “Mine?” Her voice was so quiet it would take his feline ears to hear it, barely more than a breath.
    “Yes, mate. Only yours. Never anyone else’s. Never again.”
    In one step, he was to her, his hand curving around her breast reverently. Bailey watched,