You're Lion

  Ridgeville: Book 1.5

  You’re Lion

  Celia Kyle

  July 2012

  Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Copyright, Celia Kyle. ALL RIGHTS

  RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  Summerhouse Publishing

  http://summerhousepublishing.com

  Celia Kyle

  http://celiakyle.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

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  You’re Lion

  God save Maya from every overprotective, pigheaded, butt sniffing, meddling men—even if they were lions.

  Argh.

  What could be the source of her frustration? Perhaps it had something to do with the five—count ‘em, five— werelions guarding her, while she waited her turn at the gyno’s office. To make things that much more unbearable, each one of ‘em looked ready to pounce on and destroy anyone or anything that came within a few feet of her. Great.

  Just the sorta thing that these pregnant woman needed in their already difficult lives.

  Surely, she thought.

  The door on the other side of the room opened and a familiar woman poked her head out. Maya immediately recognized her as one of the nurses, and breathed a huge thank-fucking-god sigh of relief when she heard her name called.

  “Maya Josephs?”

  Her quintet of “guard dogs” responded in unison. “It’s O’Connell.” Maya rolled her eyes, unable—or maybe unwilling—to stop the growl that roared from her chest. She gave her inner furball lioness bitch a mental high five for that sound of hostility. She’d be damned if she took her mate’s name just yet. Both sides of her—human and she-cat alike—were pretty pissed about the lack of something sparkly on the ring finger of her left hand. It’d been months since their mating—which he’d done on the sly by the way, thankyouverymuch, and Maya was still without the customary ring she could flash to all of her non-furry friends. The other shifters had congratulated her on their mating, but her human friends were left to wonder when she and Alex would be getting hitched.

  Maya was still having the whole “last name” argument with the entire effing pride it seemed. And, as far as she was concerned, until she and Alex said their “I dos,” she was gonna cling to Josephs like she was a starving Spider Monkey that held the last banana in the freakin’ jungle.

  “Um, Miss Josephs?” The nurse raised her brows and Maya hopped to her feet, before the “Fearsome Fivesome,” as she jokingly named them, could interject (again), and practically ran toward the door.

  Of course, the idjits just couldn’t let her go get her “hoo-ha” examined alone.

  Nope, they all charged after her, no doubt scaring the poor nurse silly, since the woman suddenly bolted from the doorway the moment Maya reached for the knob. Before stepping into the gyno office’s inner domain, she turned and faced her unneeded—and unwanted—werelion guards (because, really? Who in the hell was going to come after little ol’ her, especially at the doctor’s office? ) and glared at them en masse. “No. Bad kitties. Sit. Stay. ”

  “But—” started Wyatt.

  “Prima…” Deuce chimed in.

  “The Prime said—” Harding added.

  “Alex gave us strict orders,” Neal interrupted.

  Then, a gruff voice rose above the rest. “Leave her be.” The last three words came from her favorite “babysitter,” Brute, (whose real name was Brutus, but nobody called him that, for fear of being beaten to a bloody pulp by his deadly hands), and she jumped at his uttered orders as if they were a freaking lifeline.

  “Super! I’ll see y’all in a bit!”

  With a forced smile and a quick wave, she chased after the nurse, leaving five grumbling werelions in the crowded waiting area. She felt bad for the pregnant women who’d be surrounded by all of that testosterone. Well, mostly sorry, at any rate.

  Because, only two people in the world were allowed to see her vagina, damn it. The man who fucked it stupid (thank god for that), and the man who made sure it stayed healthy. The quintet would just have to wait outside.

  After a quick weigh-in (she opted not to look) and a check of her blood pressure (you go healthy chubby chick!), the nurse led her to the bathroom to pee in a cup. Now that she was sexually active, she had to endure the whole pregnancy-check-thingie before they’d give her another quarterly birth control shot. Whatever. She’d pee until the cows came home if it meant that she and Alex could continue to forgo the use of condoms.

  Whee!

  Her business finished, Maya headed over to the exam room and frowned at the folded paper outfit resting on the table. Ugh. She rather hated getting nekkid here, and being wrapped up in a thin, napkin-like sheet didn’t make her feel any better.

  No way to avoid it, though.

  After making sure the door was nice and secure, she stripped and donned the provided flimsy gown, then plopped her jiggly ass on the exam table and waited. And waited some more. Man, she really hoped one of the doctor’s patients wasn’t in labor.

  ‘Cause gynos were notoriously known for being called away to do the whole push-push-push-catch-thing.

  After what felt like forever, a soft knock sounded, and the man of the hour, Doc Molloy, poked his head in. “Ready for me?”

  Pre-Alex, Maya had had a love-hate relationship with her gynecologist. On one hand, Dr. Molloy was uber hawt. But on the other, she’d had to strip buck naked and let him poke at her vag…and not in a very fun way, mind you. Shit, he’d never even bought her dinner first.

  Presently, her lioness hated the human male, and wanted to scratch his face off for even thinking of touching her. Apparently, that was how mated she-cats responded to the men that weren’t their mates.

  Huh.

  “Yup. Ready as I’ll ever be.” She smiled, simply because it was that, or hiss and growl at him, something that her lioness was itching to do.

  Upset kitty was clawing at her insides, growling, hissing, and spitting, protesting the presence of the male…especially because of the reason why the stranger was there.

  The doc stepped fully into the room and closed them inside the small space, his focus fixed on her chart as he settled onto a nearby stool. Which was kinda weird. She was visiting for a quick shot of hormones to prevent pregnancy. And typically, that involved a quick boob check, a needle in the ass, and then the doc taking a seat to jot some notes down. Wham, bam, bill the insurance please, ma’am.

  He did not sit down to chat first.

  Nevah.

  “So… I’m going to go out on a limb and say that there must be a new man in your life, and that you’re sexually active now. According to my notes, the last time you were here, it says that you had just gotten out of a relationship.” He then proceeded to do the whole “raise a single b
row” thing.

  Well, she could pull that trick, too. Maya mimicked his move, working at looking all confident and whatnot, regardless of the embarrassing state of her current wardrobe.

  Being confident was something Alex was teaching her. “What makes you say that?” Dr. Molloy smirked and raised his eyebrow again. It was like he’d had plenty of lessons on how to grin and do the eyebrow-thingie at the same time. “Well… The fact that you’re pregnant, Maya, is what.”

  What the…? Well… Shit, fuck, damn, and growl.

  * * *

  An hour later, and with plenty of hyperventilating to boot, Maya sneakily slipped out of the doc’s back entrance and into the parking lot where—

  praisejesushallelujahamen—a yellow cab was fortuitously waiting.

  Because, really… She totally was not ready to face the quintet, or their prying questions. Nor did she want to get hauled back home to Alex. Because there was a pretty good chance she would’ve broken down and cried, then slugged the shit out of him for knocking her up. How in the fuckity-fuck? Besides, telling her babies that she’d given her father a black eye upon learning of her pregnancy, would so not be a happy story for her future little ones to hear.

  The hell? She’d been boinking Alex sans condoms because 1) shifters didn’t carry diseases, and 2) she was on the damn birth control shot.

  No one, not even Alex, had told her that furballs had super sperm that could muck with her system and get her preggers.

  Grrr…

  Dr. Molloy had had way too much fun teasing her about the facts of life while he peeked at her vag. In her full-on state of disbelief, she’d immediately demanded a sonogram, because the shot had suppressed her monthly visitor since she’d begun the damn birth control cycle.

  Twelve friggin’ weeks… She was that far along, which put her conception date right at the time of their mating.

  Fucking Alex. And stupid fucking super sperm, too. Why was she so upset? Was it shock? Disbelief? Hormones? Shouldn’t she be the least bit happy?

  Well, at least the she-cat was jumping up and down, screaming “Woo-hoo babies!” over and over again, rolling around on her back in pure joy, exposing her soon-to-be growing belly and purring to high heaven. Traitorous furry biatch.

  Acting on hormonal instinct, Maya directed the cabbie to an address she knew well. Her best friend Carly would calm her down, she thought. At least, enough so that when she finally did see Alex, Maya would be less apt to go after his junk, to prevent him from doing this to her without her consent, or knowledge, ever again. She was certain he must’ve known about his super sperm.

  Speaking of the little tadpoles…

  They couldn’t just get her pregnant. Nooo, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, she’d learned that he’d knocked her up with twins.

  A freakin’ litter.

  Gah!

  Minutes that felt like hours taking their merry-ass time, finally passed.

  Thankfully, the cabbie pulled up to the front of Carly’s house. Not so long ago, three months to be more concise, her BFF had helped her through her first shift and had kept her safe, almost getting eaten alive by a turning Maya in the process—and not in a very good way mind you, but in a very, very bad way for all her trouble.

  Back then, Maya’s she-cat had felt that the rabbit shifter should’ve been on the lioness’ menu. But now, while Maya still couldn’t control her actual shift for shit (mostly), she could at least keep the beast from wanting to chow down (sadly for Carly, in a totally non-lesbian way) on her furry friend.

  Maya tossed a handful of bills (because, really, who could count when they’ve just been shocked with the news that they were pregnant with a litter) at the driver, and then raced to her friend’s front door as fast as her high-heeled feet would carry her.

  Momentum building and rather unsure if she could stop, now that’d she’d worked up a full head of steam, Maya was hella happy when the door swung open, with a stunned-looking Carly meeting her before she managed to plow into the steel entrance. “M?”

  “Glad you’re home,” Maya quickly returned. She skidded to a stop once inside the entryway, slick bottoms of her shoes sliding over the polished hardwood floors. She was reminded that she needed to get the sole-grippy-thingamajigs. “I’m pregnant, Carly. How could you not know that I was pregnant? How in the hell did everyone’s super sniffers not pick up on that, huh? I mean, pregnant, Carly. Carrying. Gestating.

  Breeding. Dear god, please help me.” She sucked in a much needed breath to try to calm her frazzled nerves. “And to think… I’m preggers with a litter!” And then, her very best friend in the whole wide world, ever since they were six years old, when they’d pinky sworn to be bestest friends forevah, later becoming blood sisters with the whole owie-owie-exchange-of-blood-thing, laughed her furry little rabbit ass off. And then… Carly laughed some more. Maya could’ve sworn the lightest scent of urine drifted toward her.

  Oh, my god. The bitch fucking peed herself.

  Heffer. Rabbit heffer…but still a heffer, goddamnit.

  “I’d…” Carly snorted, “…I’d offer you some wine to calm down, but pregnant women aren’t supposed to drink.” Then, Ms. Rabbit Heffer chuckled some more.

  Wow, just wow. Maya was speechless. She wondered which was worse—her friend making light of her serious situation, or the fact that Carly wet her pants.

  Ignoring her soon-to-be ex-best friend, she stormed past Carly and ventured deeper into the house and went straight into the kitchen—specifically, to her friend’s freezer, where she knew her friend had some goodies.

  Between the front door and the ice cream haven that was her rabbit friend’s ice box, tingling and pinching pain encompassed her hands, the nails shifting from perfectly manicured to razor-sharp claws.

  Apparently, her lioness was just as excited as Maya was about Chunky Monkey ice cream.

  In the blink of an eye—okay, maybe more than a blink—she wrapped her palm around the freezer’s handle and ripped the door clean off. Like, completely. One second the freezer had been closed, and the next, it was minus a door. Huh. Her inner cat must be more eager for ice cream than she’d thought.

  “Maya!”

  She ignored Carly. Maya had a quart of Ben & Jerry’s in her sights, and nothing was going to deter her now. She snatched the container and spun to face her friend, snarl on her lips. “Mine. Grrr…”

  Carly’s eyebrows rose, almost retreating into her hairline. “Uh, yeah, okay.

  Totally cool. I so didn’t want a door on my freezer anyway. Look, it’s all ‘shabby chic’

  now.”

  She watched the smaller woman inch around the kitchen and dig into a drawer, then tossed a spoon toward Maya’s direction. She snatched it out of the air, then ripped the top off of the pint of heaven and dug right in. The first burst of banana ice cream, mixed with fudge chunks and walnuts exploding in her mouth, was enough to calm the raging beast.

  Apparently, the she-cat, while quite pleased of the doctor’s news at first, was now hopping on the OMG-I-can’t-believe-he-got-me-pregnant-bandwagon. Maya wondered if feeding her cat delicious ice cream had anything to do with it. Took the easily swayed bitch long enough, she thought.

  Frozen bit of relief firmly in her hands, she slumped into a nearby chair with legs sprawled, and kicked off her shoes. Like, literally. Wha-pow! She threw them off so hard they crashed into the wall, leaving noticeable dents in their wake.

  “By the way,” Maya began, getting comfortable, then, “don’t answer your phone if it happens to ring, please. I don’t want to talk to Alex…or any of his lions right now.”

  “O…kay…”

  “I’m serious, Carly.”

  “Fine. But you’re totally paying to get that fixed. You know that, right? Oh, and let’s not forget about my freezer door, you rageaholic.” Half-listening, she waved her spoon at Carly. “Yeah, yeah. Alex, if I let him live, will have someone come over and patch t
hat shit right up for you. But my visit is about making me feel all better, so let’s hop to it.” Maya snorted. She could be so funny sometimes. She made a bunny joke. Heh.

  “Bitch,” Carly fired back.

  “Actually, pregnant cats are called queens. So, Queen Bitch would be more appropriate, I think.” She tilted her head to the side and pondered. “Yeah. I think I kinda dig that.”

  Carly rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So, we’re pregnant, huh?”

  “By we, you mean me, right?” She scooped out another hunk of ice cream and downed it, then pointed the empty spoon at her friend. “’Cause last I knew, you were on a ‘dick’ boycott. Right?”

  Carly stuck out her tongue, then blew raspberries at her like a freakin’ child.

  “Yes. Anyway… You’re pregnant, freaked about it, and now you’re here, and surprisingly, without the company of the quintet.” The smaller woman grabbed a spoon for herself before inching close enough to steal a scoop of the gooey goodness that Maya was selfishly hoarding. “Speaking of which, I’m thinking about ending the ‘weenie’

  boycott, and I’m totally down with taking one of the fab five off of your hands. I’m thinking Wyatt…or maybe Deuce. Which do you think is better in bed?” A deep snort, followed quickly by a male grunt interrupted their fun, their OMG-I’m-pregnant-fest, and without looking, Maya immediately knew who that sound belonged to. One of the unshakeable quintet had found her at last. But where were the others?

  “I’d say neither, Ms. Lucky. ” Neal poked his head around the corner. “I’m the man to rock your world.” The werelion’s eyes were a deeper blue than Maya had ever seen. Soon, the unmistakable scent of arousal and desire filled the small space.

  Wow. So, she could smell something as delicate as arousal, but no one could smell her freakin’ pregnancy? What. The. Fuck. Wait, did that make any sense? Besides, Maya hadn’t been able to tell a damn thing, either. And she was the one who was pregnant for chrissakes.