Motley Crewed Shifters - Chapter 94: Chapter 94

ARLISS
I knew the second I laid eyes on Kian O’Malley that he wasn’t like other men.
There was just something about him.
Too magnetic.
Too intense.
Too everything.
The kind of man you stare at from across a room and immediately decide nope. He’s not for me. And I had every intention of keeping it that way.
He’s too good looking. Too confident.
Built like he was carved from stone and chaos, with that permanent five o’clock shadow and those sharp eyes that seem to see way too much.
He’s not in my league.
Hell, he’s not even on the same planet as me.
And yet, somehow, I’m here.
In his cabin.
In his bed.
In the middle of the goddamn night.
We started like horny teenagers, groping, kissing, tugging clothes off with clumsy, fevered hands. I’m pretty sure I tore my shirt in the process, but I don’t care.
It’s not like I’ll be putting that Bob’s Bar uniform back on anytime soon.
Not after the way I quit.
The idea of flirting with anyone I was uncomfortable with, especially a customer who gave me the creeps, made me want to vomit. Add on pressure from my boss to do just that and hell no.
That was absolutely not okay.
Sure, it was risky. Quitting like that was not like me.
I mean, the weight of the world still lingers, though. All the bills I’m responsible for and taking care of Gramps. Not to mention this constant state I seem stuck in, treading water emotionally and financially.
It hovers just above me, threatening to crash through the roof and bury me in the rubble.
But I won’t let it.
Not yet.
Not tonight.
Because right now? I’m still riding the come-down from the best sex of my life—and I don’t say that lightly.
Hands down.
No contest.
I’m still a little breathless, muscles loose and trembling, body humming from the intensity of what just happened. And there’s this weird ache between my legs that I swear is part pleasure, part disbelief.
Also, he bit me.
I brush my fingers over the tender skin on my neck, and oddly enough, tingles of pleasure seem to spread through me from that spot.
Yeah. That is definitely weird.
And hot.
I don’t know what it was that made Kian do that. I mean, not exactly.
Instinct? A kink?
Whatever. Fact was, it made my toes curl, so I’m not asking questions.
Tomorrow, though?
Yeah. Tomorrow’s gonna hit hard.
The guilt.
The doubt.
The second-guessing.
I’ll probably spiral a little.
Overthink it all until I’m convinced I hallucinated the whole thing.
Because why would a man like him want a girl like me?
But right now, I don’t want to think.
Tonight, I just want to forget who I’ve been.
The tired, invisible version of myself who tiptoes through life trying not to take up too much space.
Tonight, I get to be wanted.
Claimed.
Touched like I’m precious.
Like I’m the fire instead of the ash.
And Kian—God, Kian—he just did everything right.
The man touched me like he couldn’t breathe without me.
Like my curves were a gift, not a flaw.
Like my softness made me powerful.
He looked at me like I was some kind of miracle.
Like I mattered.
It’s dangerously addictive, that feeling.
Like falling into a dream you never want to wake up from.
And I know it can’t last.
It’s too good.
Too intense. Too fast.
But for once in my life, I’m not going to talk myself out of a good thing.
I’m going to savor this moment.
His warmth beside me.
The way his breath evens out as he sleeps.
The ghost of his touch is still on my skin.
Because for the first time in forever, I don’t feel broken. I feel alive.
And for tonight, that’s more than enough.
KIAN
Reality is a cold-eyed motherfucker.
Waking up with my fully sated, thoroughly wrecked, and gloriously naked mate curled in my arms should’ve been the best damn morning of my life.
It would’ve been, too.
If it hadn’t been for the small detail of my front door getting blown open by a tiny, unhinged Bear cub.
I was deep in the kind of sleep that only comes after mind-blowing sex and the emotional whiplash of finding your fated mate, when the sound of complete and utter destruction shattered the peace like a damn bomb went off.
Wood splintering.
Something crashing.
A very distinct bleating.
Arliss stirred, blinking sleepily and looking adorable as hell with her hair all over the place and my shirt hanging off one shoulder.
“What the hell was that?” she mumbled, already halfway out of bed before I could stop her.
“Hang on. Wait a sec, Arliss, just let me⁠—”
Too late.
She was gone, barreling toward the stairs like a curious little woodland creature investigating a horror movie noise.
And fuck me if that wasn’t hot.
I grabbed my pants and followed, barefoot and bleary-eyed, only to hear something I never want to hear.
“AGHHHHH!”
Her scream damn near shattered every piece of glass in my cabin.
I winced, hand going up to my ear as I hit the bottom of the stairs, and immediately understood why she was screaming.
Rosie Posie, the aforementioned Bear cub menace, had broken into my house with all the chaotic energy of a sugar-high toddler.
And she didn’t come alone.
Oh no.
She brought a fucking entourage.
Three goats, one of which had a bell tied to its neck that jingled every time it head-butted my coffee table.
Two ducks, already waddling through the kitchen like they paid rent.
And following them like a one-bear wrecking ball of doom was Dante, in full Grizzly form, roaring loud enough to rattle my damn windows.
Arliss had gone pale, eyes wide with sheer panic as she stumbled back against the stair railing, clutching my shirt closed around her.
“Oh my God! Kian, call the police! The animals have gone crazy!”
I barely registered the words, too distracted by the fact that while she was clutching the front of my shirt like her life depended on it, her entire ass was out, glowing like a full moon in my living room.
“Fuck,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. “Don’t worry about them. Stay here.”
I tossed the throw blanket from the couch in her direction, more for my sanity than her modesty, though let’s be real, that blanket didn’t do shit.
Then I dove into the fray like it was just another Tuesday.
“Dolly Mae—no! Not the lamp!”
Or maybe that was Dolly Sue?
Hard to tell with the twins.
Either way, I grabbed her by the horns and started hauling her backward toward the door while avoiding the duck that was now pecking at my foot like it had a vendetta.
“Hey! Stop that! That’s my couch, dammit!” I shouted at the goats currently chewing on the armrest.
Dante’s Bear gave me a look.
A full-body snort and a sarcastic head tilt that clearly said, You invited her to stay the night. This is your fault.
I glared at him.
“Don’t you judge me, you overgrown throw rug.”