Polar Opposites

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

Leaf litter and small boulders dotted the expansive patch of ground, their north sides covered in meandering plush green moss. Brush sprouted from the earth, occupying spaces where the tree canopy allowed sufficient light to peek through for moderate growth. Birds called and chattered. Somewhere ahead, the tinkling sound of water promised a cold drink from a natural running creek.

Donovan Mercer absorbed it all. The sights. The sounds. The scents. Mother Nature and the wilderness at their very best. Everything spoke to him, one way or another.

After spending his entire life in one big city after another, Donovan leaped at the opportunity to head to a rural setting and put some space between himself and the millions of humans inhabiting the last place he’d taken up residence. The huge cities served their purpose well—allowing him to grow into a man, sew his wild oats, and to experience so many different venues. But, after all these years, they’d fallen out of favor for something new and different. Leaving the endless chaos and commotion of people all wrapped up in the rat race, stress of daily living, and the worries of having to make the grade was an easy choice. Never would he miss the honking horns, the jammed interstates, and the rudeness of modern American civilization. Sure, some good existed with the bad, but he knew the scales wouldn’t balance. Not after seeing this pristine, gorgeous view.

This place pleased him. His new home. The temperate early summer day. The outing. Everything soothed him, offered him peace, and promised to be a getaway any time he needed to take a break from his everyday tasks.

Even the name spoke to him. Forgotten. Forgotten, Wyoming. Whomever bore responsibility for the christening of the town, pretty much hit the nail on the head. The rest of the world seemingly ran full speed ahead and then some. Here, people took a step back. Stress, worries, and headaches probably did as well. Mom and Pop stores were the rule of thumb and farmers made up the majority of the citizens. No one seemed to be in much of a hurry. Though Donovan hadn’t quite grasped that particular concept yet.

An eagle screeched overhead.

Donovan shaded his eyes with his hands in order to watch the beautiful bird in full flight.

“Yeah, I can get used to this place.”

Taking a few more steps, he came to a rise and started back down the slope. At the bottom lay a creek, which had cut a deep trench through limestone, only to flatten out into a pond, to his left. Trees gave way to meadow grass, reminding him of a secret valley. Way out in the middle of nowhere. Where only he and the wildlife existed.

A quiet splash drew his attention. He swung his head around to the far left, caught sight of what had made the noise, then gawked. Well, I’ll be damned.

Dark hair on top a man’s head appeared first out of the water, quickly followed by wide shoulders, a muscular back, and a tapering waist. The lapping creek played peekaboo with the man’s c***k, giving a tantalizing glimpse now and again at a rounded ass, just made for viewing. If ever a man had been put together well, it was this one. Tall, dark, and handsome as sin. Even though Donovan hadn’t seen his face, he knew the guy would be drop dead gorgeous. Hell, he already was.

Donovan’s inner beast stirred. Yummy.

Uh, huh.

His polar stilled. Bear.

Donovan mentally shrugged. It’s grizzly country. No surprise there. He didn’t fear the other shifter in the least. Intrigued? Yes. Afraid? Not even close.

A dark tattoo on the man’s right shoulder blade intrigued Donovan enough that he crept stealthily forward. With no breeze to give his scent away, he knew he could approach several paces before he risked getting caught. His only concern with that was that the scrumptious man would stop what he was doing, drag on clothes, and walk away, never to be seen again.

Ain’t happening. His bear countered firmly.

Since when do you take interest in other bears? Donovan posed the question to his beast, not truly expecting an answer. Despite being a polar, his bear pretty much carried the same attitude as a cat—fickle. While the animal side always made his wishes known, he’d never looked twice at another ursine. Felines and canines tickled his fancy now and again, more as one-night stands or occasional flings. Nothing serious. Yet, the confidence and command behind those two words told Donovan that his bear had found a new fascination.

He moved closer, took a position next to a large, vine-wrapped tree, then leaned back against the trunk, content to stand with his arms crossed over his chest and check out the scenery. His gaze never left the man now rinsing off in the water, splashing his face, then shaking his head. Water droplets meandered down the man’s neck, shoulders, and back. Donovan watched them with a hint of envy. He wanted to follow each of them. With his fingers. His tongue. And dip even lower.

Roped muscles bunched as the man pushed his hair out of his face. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you staring is rude?”

The low, bored timber of the man’s voice tickled Donovan’s fancy. He grinned, still not moving from his spot. “Is it?”

The guy cut him a sharp look over his shoulder, then returned to rinsing his chest. “This is grizzly territory. A hiker like you might want to be careful not to end up a meal for the hungry bears.”

Donovan snorted. Either the shifter was yanking his chain or he hadn’t picked up on the fact that he and Donovan shared common DNA, at least up until the specific variety of ursine. He’d bet his hiking boots, the guy already picked up the truth, despite the lack of wind to carry Donovan’s scent to him. The grizzly shifter was too casual, calm, and unhurried. His carriage spoke of solid confidence, maybe a hint of arrogance. Everything about the guy radiated danger and an ability to handle anything that came his way—even another shifter.

“I’m Donovan. Don’t suppose you have a name?”

The guy moved toward shore. Each stride revealed more and more of that sculpted, primed body.

Donovan barely resisted the urge to lick his lips. The tattoo drew his attention once again. A black Pegasus with some blues and purples woven into the feathers, mane, and tail stood out against the otherwise tanned skin. Unique and sexy. Very sexy, indeed. “Nice ink.”

Again, silence answered Donovan. He stood straight again and casually walked a couple of steps closer to the bank of the stream, eager to get the man’s full attention. After all, it was only fair. Donovan couldn’t take his eyes off him. A trill ran through his veins as he eyed the grand specimen in front of him. His inner beast concurred.

“You still didn’t tell me your name.”

The man stepped from the water, keeping his back to Donovan. More and more skin exposed for Donovan’s viewing pleasure. Hips, ass, strong thighs. And, wow, back to his perfectly molded ass. The muscles that snapped and flexed with each step. Donovan’s mouth dried up even as his pulse picked up speed. The sight mesmerized Donovan, feeding his memory banks and fantasies.

“Awfully chatty, aren’t you?”

“Not always.” Donovan inclined his head. “I’m new to this area. Just trying to make friends, I suppose.”

The guy lowered his chin and glanced back at Donovan. “Make friends elsewhere.”

“A little anti-social, huh?” Donovan replied.

Instead of answering, the other man gave a careless shrug. He turned for a split second to face Donovan, giving him a quick view of his chest, six-pack abs, and a nice package before inclining his head.

“By the way, you’re standing in poison ivy.” With that said, he shifted.

Where the hottest man Donovan had ever seen once was, now stood a massive grizzly bear. Dark brown hair covered his body while his feet and snout were nearly black. Long claws sprang from each foot, ready to rip into anything that was unlucky enough to draw the grizzly’s wrath.

The bear sneered, lumbered over to a nearby tree, then raked those razor-sharp claws down the trunk. Seemingly satisfied with leaving his mark, the grizzly loped down the hill before veering off into the woods.

Donovan’s breath caught. His heart nearly pounded out of his chest. Even worse, he had the boner of all boners throbbing in his shorts. He licked his dry lips and opened up all his senses for one last peek or sound of the bear’s exit. Only silence greeted him.

Holy s**t, he’s hot.

Arrogant, too, his inner bear quipped with an irritated snort.

Donovan smirked. What happened to ‘yummy’?

His attitude leaves much to be desired.

Donovan scanned the area, disappointed when he didn’t catch a glimpse of the big bear. He sighed and began walking in the opposite direction than the bear went. First impressions can be wrong.

Uh, huh. You’re just horny.

Donovan rolled his eyes at the crazy conversation with his inner beast. So are you.

I have my standards. He doesn’t fit any of them.

Donovan tsked. Picky, picky, picky. And a little snotty to boot.

Go suck an egg. A long pause followed. Did you forget the poison ivy?

Well, s**t. Donovan danced around, trying to escape the nasty vegetation without getting it anywhere near bare skin. He’d heard stories of the horrendous itch. Having never really been out in the forest before, he’d missed out on that glorious opportunity. Until now.

If I end up looking like a speckled tomato, I’m going to be pissed.

Yeah, yeah. His inner bear snorted.

With a long, drawn out sigh, Donovan continued on his way. He’d find the guy. If he had to comb through the entire forest to do so. Poison ivy and all.