The Shifter's Mate (Paranormal Pleasures)

  The Shifter's Mate

  Paranormal Pleasures

  Nadia Nightside

  Published by Nadia Nightside, 2014.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE SHIFTER'S MATE

  First edition. April 3, 2014.

  Copyright © 2014 Nadia Nightside.

  Written by Nadia Nightside.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Shifter's Mate (Paranormal Pleasures)

  What's next?

  Further Reading: Taken by Cowboys!

  Also By Nadia Nightside

  About the Author

  This was going to a perfect summer, Lauren knew. No, it was going to be a Perfect Summer, capitals both P and S.

  Lauren would not allow anything else. It was all going to go her way.

  She stood in the dirt and gravel parking lot of Camp Sunshine Springs, clipboard in hand. Behind her, strung in front of the large center building that served both as a cafeteria and a recreation center, was a large banner with friendly bubble-letters reading, “Welcome Counselors!”

  Lauren made the banner herself, hung it up herself.

  The warm summer temperature had her in a dark blue pair of shorts and her camp counselor t-shirt, which was bright sky blue with a big, happy orange sun in the middle of it, beneath which was the name of the camp. Her long, golden brown locks—probably Lauren’s favorite feature about herself—were tied back in a high ponytail. No more than ten minutes ago, she had finished a breakfast of scrambled eggs and spinach, with a small fruit bowl on the side and a tall glass of water to go along with that.

  And all of this—the banner, her appearance, her meal, her timing—was exactly how she had planned. Most of Lauren’s days were accorded far in advance, with increments of exactitude increasing as the day itself approached. At any given time she had about a dozen plans in her mind, half of which were everything she would like to happen in the next forty-eight hours, and the other half were arranging themselves for anything that would most possibly go wrong in the next twelve hours.

  So, this morning so far was exactly how she wanted it be. She was in control. She smiled broadly as the first cars began to arrive, just at about nine in the morning. They were all on time—just as she had asked them to be.

  Perfect.

  She deserved a perfect summer at this point her life. She deserved something that would go absolutely perfect, with no exceptions. No excuses. No dirty little remainders staining her memories. Just wonderful, clear perfection of a time all the way through.

  At the age of eighteen, preparing for college at the end of the summer, she had many bitter memories of high school. Being ignored or frowned upon or mocked because of her intelligence and drive, comments which invariably deteriorated to observations about her weight and shape.

  Lauren was, for lack of a better word, curvy.

  Her friends had many better words—bosomy, voluptuous, curvaceous—but these all seemed like such glamorous terms and Lauren had trouble applying them to herself. It didn't matter that her generous measurements were healthy and had guys staring at her breasts every day—all she really focused on was how she wasn't quite slim enough for the norm.

  So, perfect, yes. Summer, yes. Perfect Summer, yes. She would make it happen. She deserved it.

  As the Counselor Supervisor of Camp Sunshine Springs, she had every tool she needed to make it all come true. Her authority in the camp was absolute in all but name.

  Sunshine Springs boasted twelve counselors, including Lauren and her only superior on the site, Heather Springs (also the owner of the camp, of course). Most of the time, however, the jovial middle-aged Heather acted much more like a matronly counselor—her chosen classes were nutrition and yoga—than any kind of a boss.

  The counselors began rolling out of their cars in front of Lauren, most of them taking the time to let out big yawns and stretches—all of them from the ages of eighteen to twenty-one, and none of them really accustomed to waking up at a normal hour like Lauren was. She doubted they had eaten breakfast yet—which was why she already had a table with water, toast, and fruit prepared next to the small gated entrance. The fence and gate were wooden—with big long logs of wood, the kind that were a lot of fun for children to play on and stand and jump.

  The children themselves wouldn’t be arriving for another week—this week was all about building teamwork and learning the routine of the camp for the counselors. But strictly speaking, Sunshine Springs was a camp for children, where parents could drop off their little ones and do whatever parents did when children were gone..

  Lauren ticked off little check marks as everyone took their food and crowded up automatically before her:

  Kyle, Carlie, the redhead twins Bree and Brittany, William, Roxanne, Roxanne’s older sister Tasha (who was counseling for her third year in a row), and Natalya, the girl from Eastern Europe with the last name Lauren still couldn’t pronounce even after hours of practice.

  She nodded and gave out brief hellos to everyone in turn, exchanging small pleasantries. Wasn’t the weather nice and warm? Did you remember bug spray? You’re welcome, I made the toast myself.

  Then, everyone was silent, waiting on her.

  “Just a few more people,” she explained to the small crowd. “Please feel free to chat and go back for seconds while you wait.”

  For a moment, Lauren felt a flutter of panic enter her mind. Where was he? Wasn’t he coming? He had told her he was coming...he had promised...

  Then she heard his car growling down the gravel drive—a classic muscle car, blue with orange trim, almost as sexy as he was. Lauren’s heart caught when she saw it, and again when she saw him step of out of his car—Bryce Markson. Local football star. Lantern-jawed hunk. Ripped stud. Total dreamboat, who Lauren had taken the time to enter regularly in her schedule of nightly fantasies—he came last, of course, because there was no thinking of anyone else after him. If he only knew how many times she had cum thinking about him...

  But as he stepped out, the other side of the car opened, and a gorgeous tanned leg stretched out slowly.

  No, thought Lauren, struggling to mask her approaching horror. No, no, no!

  But of course, yes. It was Maryse, Bryce’s girlfriend.

  Lauren clicked her pen nervously and began to approach the pair.

  What was she doing here? Maryse had canceled on the summer camp—she had insisted that she couldn’t make it, that her modeling contract made it impossible to commit to six weeks of work in a row, and Lauren had rejoiced, thinking she would finally get some alone time with Bryce. It made all her plans so much simpler.

  Maryse was everything Lauren wasn’t—blond, tall, gymnast-slim, tightly toned, and sparkling tanned, her every facet practically flawless.

  Lauren could not help but feel inferior in front of Maryse. There was no way around it. She felt like everyone felt inferior before the flawless blond.

  Lauren’s nerdy, good-natured friends—nowhere to be found, all of them finding better internship jobs through engineering companies and the like—told Lauren not to be so down on herself. They said her face was positively gorgeous, her body was voluptuous, her breasts just “amaaaazing,” and her thick brown hair a wonder to behold with how it practically never seemed to need work to look good. But all Lauren needed was a small sliver of a comparison between herself and a beauty queen-esque, tall, slender model-type like Maryse, and her whole world came crashing down.

  It didn’t help, of course, that Lauren had a naggingly present bisexual side in the members of her
constantly touring sexual band, brought out to full concert whenever Maryse was around. Like many teenagers, Lauren hadn't learned yet how to reconcile all the different facets of her sexuality, and was more than a bit disgusted with herself with how badly she found herself wanting to lick and kiss various parts of Maryse’s perfect body with as much as she resented her at the same time.

  Lauren had admitted, in addition to previously-unending glee, to being surprised when Maryse emailed her, saying that she couldn’t do the work for the summer.

  Camp Sunshine Springs was a good gig—both for Lauren and the other counselors. For eight weeks of work in the sun, with the weekends off, Lauren would make six thousand dollars. Her compatriots, with less responsibility, would still be making five thousand. Not bad for just playing at Day Care and making rope knots and fresh cookies with kids. Heather Springs could afford these salaries because she took so little herself, and because she boasted one of the most progressive summer camps in the whole region, complete with recycling classes, do-it-yourself initiatives on making electronics and machines from old junk, survival kits for economic and industrial collapse, and spiritual health awareness assemblies. Only the most bourgeois of bourgeois parents could afford it—and so of course, they all were desperate to do just that.

  Stepping around the small crowd of counselors, Lauren approached Maryse and Bryce. Maryse was already stroking Bryce’s face, his hands on her sexy hips, shown off expertly in a tiny white miniskirt. Her platform sandals were completely inappropriate for the tasks at hand...but they made her legs look stellar. Lauren had trouble deciding who she was instantly more attracted to. They were an obvious power couple, each radiating clear, easy authority with their good looks and charm.

  Still, Lauren was a little less intimidated by Bryce. She had tutored him through Calculus all the last semester of high school, becoming quite close to him. She liked his easy sense of humor, and his lack of any sense of superiority or formality about his status at school—he was, in that way, the direct opposite of Maryse.

  Lauren had been the one to encourage him to apply to the job here. And, of course, Lauren was also the one who ensured he got hired.

  “Hey, you guys,” called Lauren. She tried to sound both friendly and authoritative at the same time—a congenial manager. “Good to see you. Maryse, are you going to be staying?”

  “I am!” She slipped her arms around Bryce, squeezing tight. “I just can’t stay away from my Brycey for long, you know?”

  Maryse delivered sizzling hot kiss, sliding her long, tanned leg up and around his waist. He seemed surprised—and more than a bit embarrassed—at her level of affection.

  Sliding out from her grip, Bryce held out his hand to Lauren to shake. God, his shirt was so tight around his hard pecs...

  “Thanks for putting all this together,” he said, pointing out at the food table, the banner over the center building. “It looks really great. We’re lucky to have you in charge!”

  He said this with a brilliant smile—of course—and Lauren’s heart practically melted, all thoughts of Maryse banished for a few beautiful seconds. That was, at least, until the sexy blonde slipped back into view, her ample cleavage almost sliding completely out from her tiny purple halter top.

  “Yeah, it looks pretty neat,” she said enthusiastically. “Why’s it all so...brown, though?”

  Lauren cast an eye back at the decorations with them.

  “Well, we want to promote endearment to nature,” explained Lauren. “So, even our decorations should reflect that.”

  “I guess so,’ said Maryse, appearing as though she was honestly trying to be sympathetic, sliding a hand through her soft golden hair. “But, do you really think people will care about nature if it looks so drab all the time?”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the throaty rumble of an arriving motorcycle. The last one of the counselors to arrive—Caleb. Oh, Caleb. He scared Lauren a little.

  A gorgeous, tall woman dressed in denim and leather, with long, long ebony hair that wrapped around her waist, positively dripping liquid sex, rode on Caleb's bike. She was seated behind him, not bothering to wear a helmet. Just from looking at her from a distance, Lauren felt her body heat up—even more than it did when she was in front of Maryse and Bryce. When Caleb slipped off the bike with his bag, the woman gave him a quick hug and drove off.

  Was that goddess Caleb's girlfriend? It was hard to believe.

  Up until a year ago, he had been your average high school nerd. Then, he fell in with the biker crowd—now dangerous-looking tattoos slid all over his tight, wiry frame. A mutated skull on the back of his neck—strange runes on his forearms and shoulders, easily visible beyond the bounds of his a-frame black shirt.

  Lauren couldn’t help but feel a tinge of...well, desire when she saw him. He looked so dangerous, so...forbidden. He got into too many fights to graduate properly from their high school, but based on his previous behavior and “promising future,” he had been allowed to fast track through a GED program. And now, here he was...all because Heather loved giving kids second-chances.

  This day so far had just been a rapid-fire lustfest for Lauren so far. She really needed to tighten herself up, if this whole summer wasn't going to end up as a fiasco.

  Her desire for Caleb wasn’t completely unprecedented. For a short while, no more than a few weeks, they had dated—kind of. Going to hang out at bowling alleys or malls with mutual friends, but spending most of that time together, and sliding off alone to make out. But then he started getting in all those fights...and then he disappeared from her life, up until the point just recently when she saw him apply for this work.

  Frankly, Lauren didn’t feel safe with him around, but she was in no position to argue with her boss on hiring policies. It was, strangely, the one area where Heather’s easy-going persona became very serious.

  “Everyone deserves a chance to help others,” she told Lauren a few weeks back. “And I need a supervisor who understands that. Isn’t that you?”

  Not being stupid enough to lose her job, Lauren of course said that it was.

  Even with her fear of Caleb’s potential, she cast more than a couple glances back in his direction as she positioned herself at the front of the counselor crowd once again. She remembered him as skinny and pale. He was still pale, but he had definitely grown into himself—his muscles wiry and visible, the kind of dense-but-slight build you might see on a man working construction.

  “Could everyone follow me, please?” Lauren called out. “Everyone’s here, so let’s all go grab a seat at the complex.”

  Obediently, they all followed Lauren to the main complex—the combination cafeteria and recreation center. Half of it was open to the outside, glass panels making up the walls. All the tables were picnic tables, good for eating or crafting, and any number of different types of classes.

  The camp owner—spunky, trim, Heather—stepped up on the wide porch, waving her hands about, trying to herd everyone forward. Earlier in her life, she had been a ballet instructor, and still retained that same signature tone and beauty somehow reserved to dancers—including the vibrant mass of chocolate hair falling in deep, beautiful tresses down her back, ending just over her still-firm butt.

  “Hello, everyone!” Heather called out, guiding them closer to the porch. “I’m just so glad you’re here. Today is such a wonderful, peaceful day to start our community and our efforts at building the future. I don’t know about you, but I just get such a sense of serenity and well-being from being in nature like this.” She closed her eyes, smiling and touching her heart with her hands. Some of the newer folks gave each other confused glances—the veterans just knew this was how Heather was. “I just hope you’re all overwhelmed with gratitude like I am, to be surrounded by so much of nature’s glory, and really just embracing the good will of all of you to come and help us in our mission.”

  She paused for several moments, eyes still closed. Some of the new folks closed their eyes as well, pe
eking open a bit to see if that was what they were supposed to do. Lauren, with Maryse’s sudden involvement and the cocktail of mixed feelings that had been served with Caleb's arrival, was feeling rather the opposite of gratitude.

  Today was no longer off to a brilliant start.

  After another deep breath, Heather nodded over to her supervisor.

  “Okay. So, Lauren has a few announcements, and I would ask that you all pay special close attention, okay? She’s so smart and wonderful, and I think she just has the best ideas.”

  Lauren struggled not to roll her eyes. Technically, Heather had a few announcements—sent and re-sent in email form to Lauren over the course of the last few weeks in preparation for the camp. But Heather abhorred being seen as an “authority figure.” She just wanted to be everyone’s friend, to learn and love and laugh with them in their youthful abandon. That was how she put it, anyway.

  So, Lauren was “bad cop.” She could handle that. It was good experience for the life she would have in the ruthless, cutthroat business world that she hoped to join in her professional career.

  “Okay, we don’t have too many new additions to the rules which I emailed to everyone last week. Just a few reminders. After last year’s spaghetti incident, the camper curfew has been scaled back to nine at night, with lights-out at ten. Wake-up is at now at six-thirty. That means less sleep for us, especially those of us on cafeteria duty, which will be distributed among everybody. I suggest getting to bed by ten-thirty. You have to be up by five-thirty at the latest to get everything ready.”

  There were, as she expected, a few groans. The most theatrical of them came from Maryse, who buried herself into Bryce's thick, strong arms. Lauren did her best to quell her jealousy.

  “Now, what that also means is that I expect for no one to have a hangover...or a sudden ‘24-hour flu.’ I know when you are drinking—and for that matter, so do the campers. This is just a reminder that there is no alcohol allowed on these grounds, and certainly no drugs of any other kind.”