The Beast Within

by Rachel M Raithby

  ****

  Aster woke to the sounds of soft, feminine footsteps. The sound was oddly comforting, and he found himself keeping his eyes shut and lying still, so he could simply listen.

  She was in the kitchen. He heard the clank of the kettle, running water, followed by the spark of the gas hob being lit.

  I could get used to this.

  Then claim her, his Minotaur growled. Aster forced his beast from his mind, deciding to sit up and see if she needed help. It was stupid for him to hope, because in the end, when Becca found out what he really was, she’d run. They always did.

  “Morning. How are you feeling?”

  Becca stared at him, her eyes glued to his bare chest. The beast inside him stretched out, pleased. Aster cleared his throat, and smiled at her, pure masculine heat in his gaze.

  Her eyes dropped as a blush coated her cheeks.

  Aster crossed his arms, drawing her attention to the shift of muscle, and he took a step closer. “How do you feel?” he asked, low and rough.

  She eyed him, her look so intense he felt as if she was trying to read his mind. Then the look was gone and she wrapped her shields around herself. “Hands hurt like a bitch, but I’ll survive.”

  “And your back?”

  “I’ll survive,” she repeated pointedly. “You got any teabags in this place?”

  Aster came around the counter and entered her space. He knew she didn’t like it yet he wasn’t acting with the mind of a man, but the mind of his beast, and it was mad. The beast wanted this woman to drop her walls and show him the secrets that lay within.

  He deliberately brushed up against her as he reached into the cupboard for the teabags. Their skin met in a rush of scalding sexual heat, and Aster bit back a moan. God, this woman made him hunger for so much. Desire pulsed through him.

  Time froze as they looked at each other, breaths heavy, the air heated with need. Aster’s gaze travelled to her lips, his tongue slipped out, wetting his own as he wondered what she’d taste like. Would the spice of her scent and her temperament coat her skin, too?

  Taste her. She’s ours, his Minotaur encouraged.

  Becca read his intent as his eyes dropped to her lips. A part of her wanted to close the small gap between them and find out if the heat between them would ignite into an inferno. Her stomach churned in anticipation. Her skin felt tight and she so desperately wanted to rub up against him, but she wasn’t stupid. Even as a part of her imagined the feel of his skin beneath her hands, the other part shoved up walls, barricading her against his seductive scent and masculine beauty. She didn’t have the luxury. She’d killed and run.

  Stepping back abruptly, her back met the counter top with such force that her knees gave way and she cried out in pain. He didn’t catch her this time. The impact from meeting the floor travelled from her knees to the top of her head.

  “Shit!” he said gruffly, coming to the floor.

  Becca took a deep breath and forced herself to feel nothing. This pain was insignificant compared to cracked ribs and bruises upon bruises. She wouldn’t cry. Crying only lead to more.

  Yet as she told herself the agony was nothing, he shattered her defenses. His hand touched her in the most delicate of caresses, sliding up her arm, across her collarbone and under her chin. There were tears in her eyes as he tilted her face upward, but she refused to let them fall.

  His thumb absently stroked her jaw as he searched her face.

  “What are you looking for?” she whispered, only realizing she’d said the words aloud when his eyes widened.

  “Secrets.”

  “Why should I tell you my secrets? You’re nothing to me. A stranger.”

  There was a split second where Becca was sure she saw his eyes glow a rusted red. Copper almost. His body tensed, then relaxed again, but his hold never changed from tender.

  “I could be something.”

  Becca stared at his lips, wanting so desperately for him to take his words back. He couldn’t be something. For him to be something, she’d have to be more than the hollow shell that Alex had left her.

  Standing, Becca gritted her teeth and forced her walls around herself, building them out of anger, an anger born from her hatred for Alex. If he didn’t exist, she might have allowed Aster to mean something.

  Smiling, she spoke, her tone full of sass, covering the emotions beneath. “I take my tea, white, no sugar.”

  “Let me guess. You’re sweet enough,” he mocked, his face hardening.

  Allowing the rage within her to coat her features, Becca’s smile turned dark, her eyes empty. “There is no sweetness in me.”

  Aster watched her take a seat by the window. She lowered herself with care, though only seconds ago, she’d walked as if not hurt at all. There is no sweetness in me. Her words chilled Aster to his soul. The emptiness that had filled her eyes made the beast within him want to savage. But both beast and man had no clue who they should be savaging. Aster only knew there was more than hardness inside her. She was cute, sexy and full of just enough sass to not allow his dominant nature to take full control, yet there was also a part of her that was very much broken. A part of her that was familiar to pain, so much so that she hadn’t shed a tear even though he’d scented the agony on her. Now he scented nothing. It was as if she’d retreated so far within herself, she was nothing but a shell.

  I’ll coax her out from behind her walls. His Minotaur smiled inwardly.

  You’ll frighten her so much, she’ll never venture out again. This will take patience you do not have.

  Taking the mug of tea he’d made her, he placed it on the small window sill next to her. She didn’t look up or say a word. Silently, she took the mug, holding it between her battered fingers, and continued to stare out the window.

  The beast inside him awoke. It wanted to shake her. It wanted to kiss her until she melted against him and surrendered to the heat between them. Clenching his fists, Aster turned abruptly feeling his control slip. Racing from the cabin, he disappeared into the trees, running from the one woman who had the ability to destroy him more than anyone else in this world. He’d finally found her, the woman he wanted as his. She enticed his beast, drew feelings from him he’d never before felt, but she was already running when he found her, and he was frightened he’d not be able to convince her to stay. So Aster pounded the forests, hiding from his emotions in the wildness of his beast.

  She finished her tea before she allowed herself to crumble. Hands trembling, she put the mug on the sill and looked toward the open front door. A cold wind blew in, banging it against the wall. On unsteady feet, Becca walked to the doorway, but didn’t cross the threshold. For long moments, she gazed into the trees, wondering what he was doing out there. There was something odd about Aster, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He didn’t scare her, and that reaction in itself troubled her more than the intense feelings she felt toward him. He should have scared her. He was huge, capable of snapping her in two. He also had a presence about him, which told her this man was used to getting his way. Yet even as the air had ignited with the desire between them, he’d allowed her to walk away. She’d seen his need to shake her as she’d built walls around herself, but instead of hurting her, he’d left.

  A tiny fraction of her broken soul repaired, yet it wasn’t enough to make her consider staying. Slamming the door on the outside world, Becca picked up her bag, which he’d left by the sofa, and went in search of a bathroom. It was time to be back on the road, running from the ghosts of her past.

  “Shit,” Becca muttered as she emptied the contents of her bag onto the bathroom floor. There were no toiletries within the heaped clothes, or bras. Thankfully though, she’d packed a few panties.

  Stuffing the contents back in the bag, but leaving out yoga pants, a T-shirt and panties, Becca carefully peeled off her clothes and eyed the impressive grazes on her back. Aster had covered most of them, but she could see the red crisscross of newly formed scabs around the edges of the gauze
and further up her back.

  “Guess a shower is out,” Becca murmured to herself. Switching on the water in the basin, she took the wash cloth from Aster’s shower, and added some of his shower gel to it, before proceeding to wash herself as best as she could.

  Once clean and dry, Becca stole a squeeze of his toothpaste and rubbed it onto her teeth, before rinsing out her mouth. Her hands throbbed in time with her heart at the action, but it was the pain that grounded her and reminded her of what she needed to do.

  As delicately as she could, and holding the edge of the waist band with the tips of her fingers, Becca pulled on her yoga pants and then tugged the T-shirt over her head. It was only when the material touched her back that she realized she’d not be able to wear this or any of the T-shirts she’d packed. They were all too tight on her wounded back. Hauling it off and cursing herself for not having enough sense to pack more clothes, Becca listened at the bathroom door to make sure Aster had not returned, then slipped out and into his bedroom. Walking to the closet, she pulled it open and took what looked to be the smallest shirt he owned, though it would still drown her.

  It was pale blue in color, and the soft cotton felt far better against her sensitive skin. Rolling up the sleeves so that her hands were free, Becca headed out into the main living area, picked up her bag, and rushed for the door before she changed her mind. Pausing for only a moment to put on her jacket and eye his keys hanging by the door, Becca swallowed her guilt and snatched them up as she exited.

  Slinging her bag on the passenger seat, Becca climbed in, adjusted her seat, and started the engine. It was only when she’d buckled her belt and looked up that she noticed Aster further down the drive. His arms crossed over the wide expanse of his chest as he looked at her with murderous thunder.

  “Crap.” She swore she saw his lips twitch at her comment, but then he’d never have heard her over the rumble of the engine. “Fuck it. I’m outta here.” Slamming her foot on the gas, the back tires spun before the truck lurched forward and raced toward him.

  Feeling marginally more in control after his short run, Aster retrieved his T-shirt, deciding he’d best not leave Becca too long. When he noticed her in the doorway of his cabin, he silently moved through the trees further down the road so she wouldn’t notice him. He watched her slide her jacket on over his shirt.

  Good. Cover her in our scent.

  I’m pretty sure she’s about to run. Concentrate.

  Becca stormed to the truck. Aster shook his head as she climbed in and started the engine. Walking out into the road, Becca finally glanced up and noticed him. He had to suppress his smile as her face hardened with determination, and his truck sped toward him. The beast inside him raised its head in pride. It wanted his female to have spine. Yet the man couldn’t believe she’d contemplated stealing his truck, much less running him over. Yeah, he’d knocked her off her bike…but this? Aster widened his stance. He wasn’t budging, and it would take more than running him over to get him out of the way. She showed no signs of stopping and Aster began to think he’d have to reveal his true identity far sooner than he’d anticipated, but right at the last second her eyes widened the smallest of fractions and he knew he’d won.

  Her heart pounded a relentless beat. Adrenaline rushed through her system making her feel cut off from her own body.

  He isn’t going to move! Her foot hit the brake before she’d even registered her retreat. The bastard has balls, I’ll give him that.

  Only when the truck had fully stopped and she’d put it into park and held her hands up in defeat did he move around to her door. Wrenching it open, he stared at her with storm-filled eyes. “Out!”

  Becca gulped the lump in her throat and unlatched her belt before easing herself down from the truck. He made no attempt to move, and she was forced to look up to see his face.

  “You were gonna steal my shirt, too,” he observed, his level tone at odds with the anger seeming to hum throughout his body.

  “My top was too tight. It hurt my back.”

  “Take it off.”

  “What?”

  He dipped his head slightly, his next words a cool caress against her skin. “I said, take it off.”

  Becca moved back, but she could only move an inch. He had her penned in. His arm blocked her on one side, hand resting against the truck, and the door on the other, with his body trapping her from the front. “I-I don’t have a bra on,” she whispered.

  A wicked smile spread over his lips. “I know, I can see your nipples through my shirt.”

  Face flushing red, Becca folded her arms across her chest and looked down. “No.”

  “No?”

  She looked up, glared. “No!”

  He licked his lips, his eyes filling with a dangerous heat that only made Becca want him more. “Oh, Becca, darling, I suggest you remove the shirt you stole before I take you inside and do it myself.”

  They glared, both angry, both lustful.

  “Fine,” she snapped. I’ll show him. He wants me to squirm, well, he’s out of luck.

  Eyes never leaving his, Becca hesitated before huffing in anger and slipping off her jacket, then roughly unbuttoning his shirt. Straightening, his eyes widened in shock, and his smile grew.

  As each button came free, his eyes became hooded with heat, and her body responded, her belly pooling with desire.

  “There!” she yelled, slamming the shirt against his chest. “Happy now?”

  “Very.” He smirked, though his eyes held renewed respect. Moving his arm, he set her free.

  “Ugh!” Becca threw up her arms and stomped back toward the cabin. “You are such an asshole,” she muttered, feeling more frustrated at herself for enjoying that he’d pushed her, than feeling outraged.

  Slamming the door on his laughter, Becca slumped onto the sofa, cringing at the pain, and reached for the one random cushion to cover up her breasts. Alex had forced her to do things so many times in the past, so why was this different? Why did Aster’s demand cause slivers of need to roll down her spine, instead of fear?

  Aster might have demanded, but there had been a playful edge to him, and she’d seen his surprise. He’d never expected her to follow through and that only made her want him more.

  Aster parked his truck and turned off the engine, before picking up Becca’s bag and jacket and heading inside. He tried to contain his smile, but it was hard when he couldn’t get the image of her face all flustered and sexy as she’d unbuttoned his shirt, determined to keep eye contact with him. It had taken every ounce of his control to keep his cock from going rock hard at the sight of her bare chested, nipples puckered from the cold. He’d not lied. He could make out the darker rings of her nipples, and he’d also noted she’d not worn a bra when he’d cut open her dress. So that meant she’d not packed one. It begged the question, what woman left on a road trip without a bra?

  Chuckling at her angry form sitting on the sofa, a cushion covering her front, he flung the shirt at her. “Here, it’s yours.”

  She stared at him in disbelief as the shirt hit her. “You just made me strip naked, and now I can have it back?”

  “Half.”

  “What?”

  “Half-naked, and you were planning to steal my truck. What did you expect?”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “You’ve made your point. Can we just forget it and start over?”

  “Sure. How about something to eat?”

  “Food sounds good.”

  With great effort, Aster tore his eyes away from the naked curve of her back. Even cut to hell her skin look good enough to lick. Biting back a groan, he pulled open the fridge and surveyed the near empty interior. “Hope you like eggs.”

  “Eggs would be great.”

  “Scrambled eggs it is then.”

  He could feel her eyes on him as he worked, but Aster chose to keep his focus on the task at hand. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke. “Is there somewhere I could take my bike to be fixed?”

  “Ye
ah, there’s a place in town. We’ll take it in tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “It’s Sunday. It’ll be closed.”

  “Oh…so it is.”

  Aster glanced up at her soft, broken whisper, wanting so much to haul her off the sofa and into his embrace, but he stayed in place. Instead, he poured the whisked eggs into the pan. Soon enough, he’d know what, or who, put shadows into her eyes, but today wasn’t the day.

  They ate in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Becca hadn’t realized how hungry she’d been until the first bite of eggs had slid down her throat. She could feel him watching her as she wolfed it down, but he didn’t comment and for that, she was grateful. But once she’d finished and after he cleared her plate, she could almost feel his need to ask questions.

  “So where were you coming from when I so rudely interrupted your journey?”

  Becca met his eyes and laughed. “Interrupted, is that what you call it?” He waited for her answer, all warm eyes and seductive smile. Seeing no harm in him knowing where she’d come from, Becca told the truth. “Detroit.”

  “You lived there long?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Where to from here then?”

  “Enough of the hundred questions,” Becca snapped. The second the words left her mouth, Becca knew she’d made a mistake; he’d been watching as one would stalk prey, just waiting for her to slip up. For her to reveal she had secrets to hide.

  He moved a little closer. “Who’d you get that temper from?” Low, rough, she felt herself moving toward him, his voice a seductive lure.