“Wouldn’t know,” she answered, playing her finger over the fine lines in the stone countertop.
“Did your parents die?”
“Might as well have.” Looking up, Becca gasped. Their faces were inches apart. His fingers brushed over the top of hers, pausing her relentless movements and sending shivers across her skin. Breath hot as it whispered over her face, Becca wanted nothing more than to surrender to the sexual hunger between them, but she knew it would be a mistake, and so she pulled away. “Not going to happen, Aster.”
“Why not?” he whined, sounding so childish it made Becca laugh.
“Because tomorrow I’m going to get my biked fixed and be back on the road. I don’t need any further complications.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he murmured, closing the space she’d put between them. Her eyes went to his full and kissable mouth. His tongue slipped out and wet his bottom lip in a slow caress.
Mind filling with images of his tongue wetting far lower, erotic places, Becca moaned and closed the inch between them. Their lips met in a clash of heated fury. Liquid desire pooled between her legs as her breaths came out in sharp, frantic gasps. His hands gripped her, strong, possessive, and yet tender; they held her hips, tugging her from the stool and into the V created by his legs. As she felt the hot, hard evidence of his arousal, her brain fired back to life and she pulled away.
He made no move to drag her back, only watched her with hungry eyes.
“I can’t do this,” she said between pants. “I think I should get a room at a motel.”
“No,” he answered, sharp, final.
“No? What right do you have giving me orders?”
“You’re injured. If you go into town with hands cut to hell and wearing a man’s shirt, people are going to start asking questions, and I don’t know about you, but I like to keep people out of my business.”
“So, you knocked me off my bike. It’s no big deal.”
“You’ve secrets, Becca.”
“Fuck you! You don’t know the first thing about me.” Striding away, she slung on her jacket, ignoring the bite of pain as it rubbed over her skin, and picked up her bag. “I’m leaving. You can’t keep me prisoner and I don’t feel like sticking around to hear all you know about me.”
His voice was quiet, deadly, and it made her cold with fear. “I know you’ve got secrets. If you hadn’t, you’d have been happy to go to hospital.”
She paused, hand on the handle. “Maybe I’ve got a phobia.”
“I doubt it.”
“I’m not telling you my secrets, Aster,” she murmured, staring at her hand clasping the door handle.
“You will.”
Turning, she dropped her bag and crossed her arms. “So confident.”
“I’ve got a whole arsenal.”
“You think a pretty face and sexy body is going to have me spilling my guts?”
“You think I have a pretty face?” He smirked.
“Oh, shut it, ass.” It took all her effort not to smile.
“Stay.” An order. “I’ll head into town and get you a few things.”
“I need a bra too, 34D.” Only his laughter answered. “I mean it, Aster. I’m not staying braless.”
He left with a wicked gleam in his eyes and a smile full of sexual promise.
“Oh, damn, Bec, what have you got yourself into this time?”
..
Turning off the rumble of his engine after parking outside the cabin, Aster took a deep breath. What the hell am I doing? He’d purposely kept himself cut off from the world. He’d not made friends. Hell, he rarely ventured into town, and he’d sure as hell never entered a woman’s lingerie department. Yet he’d been there and now he had shopping in his hands, and a stupid grin on his face.
Shit, I’m whipped and I’ve known this woman all of two minutes.
Because she’s the one we’ve been searching for, his Minotaur whispered.
Getting out of the truck, he stuffed his feelings to the back of his mind, ignoring his beast’s whispers. He’d go along with his insanity for now. Maybe if he just indulged his needs, he’d get the damn woman out of his system. Yes, that’s all this is. I’ve gone too long without sex and it’s clouding my mind.
She’s ours. Stop denying it, his Minotaur rumbled.
With that thought, Aster pulled one bag free and stashed it in his truck. He grinned wickedly to himself as he slid the bag containing the bra under his seat. If he was going to get her out of his system, he might as well enjoy watching her in his shirt, sans bra.
Walking inside his cabin, his eyes scanned the main living area, finding Becca on the sofa, laying on her front, asleep. Silently, Aster closed the distance between them and studied her face. She looked younger than he’d first thought. There were no walls around her now. Yet it was the shadows in her eyes that made her seem older. They whispered of the horrors she’d seen. He was certain Becca had seen and walked amongst evil and it had claimed a piece of her soul.
With a tenderness he wasn’t aware he possessed, Aster ran a finger over the side of her face and then covered her sleeping form with a blanket. Leaving her to sleep, he slipped outside and set about splitting the logs of wood stacked against the side of the cabin. There was a chill in the air that promised a storm, and he couldn’t help wondering if the storm would bring more than wild weather.
She woke to the smell of food, and the crackle of a fire. Sitting up carefully, Becca settled her back against the sofa, pleased to find the contact didn’t cause instant pain. Turning her body slightly, she looked behind her to see Aster in the kitchen.
“Hey, sleepy head.” He smiled.
Becca eyed him warily. “Where’s the real, Aster, gone?”
“What, a guy can’t smile now?” he asked, holding his hand over his heart. “You wound me.”
“You smile, but normally there is some hidden message behind the smile.”
“Like what?”
“Like come over to the dark side.”
His laugher filled the room, husky and sexy. It did funny things to her tummy.
“Am I that bad?”
Becca shuffled herself over and brought her feet up onto the sofa, resting her chin on her knees. She answered honestly. “No. Your dark side promises pleasure. I’ve seen enough bad to know the difference by now.”
“So why are you running? Stay, let me show you how good the dark side can be.” Becca smiled sadly as Aster walked toward her, all lethal grace that was at odds with his huge frame. “Wine?” he asked, offering her a glass.
Taking the drink, she took a sip of the cool, crisp white wine before answering him. “Because the bad always has a way of catching up to you.”
“You still not going to tell me what that would be, hey?”
“Nope.”
“Well then…shall we eat instead?”
“You cooked?” she asked, getting up.
“And shopped. Left the bags on the bed for you.”
“Thanks.” Heading into the bedroom, Becca dug through the bags, finding various face creams, a hair brush and a pack of child’s hair ties, deodorant, but no bra. “Hey, Aster?” she called.
“Yeah?” Becca could hear the smile in his tone.
“Where’s the bra?”
His head popped around the door. Laughter in his eyes, danger in his smile. “What’s a bra?” he asked innocently, his gaze dipping to the rounds of her breasts and back to her face.
“Ugh!” Becca picked up the nearest thing and threw it at him.
He dodged a bottle of face cream with ease, his laughter trailing behind him as he disappeared back into the kitchen.
Taking a few moments to calm her racing mind, Becca only came out of the bedroom when Aster called to say their food was ready. She’d spent so long living inside her walls to protect herself, she couldn’t understand why Aster so easily made them crumble. He got under her skin, so much so, a part of her wanted to stay and see where the sexual tension
between them would go.
No, Bec, that can’t happen, stop dreaming. You’ve never had the luxury to dream.
Aster’s lips lifted slightly as she walked in. “Here,” he said, handing her a newly topped-up glass of wine.
Taking the glass, Becca took several gulps in an attempt to settle her mind, and then smiled at the table. “You cooked all this?”
She was sure his cheeks reddened. “If you count emptying ready-prepared food into a tray, then yes.”
Becca had the sudden feeling Aster didn’t do this very often. For the first time, she saw his confidence slip slightly, and it only made her want him more. No one had ever shown her their vulnerabilities before. It made Aster seem more attainable, instead of a dream out of her reach. “Seeing as that is how I cook, it counts. Thank you.”
“Well, I did knock you off your bike,” he said sheepishly, taking his seat.
“I might be slowly forgiving you for that.” Sitting, she took another sip of wine and glanced at him for the barest of seconds. But he saw.
“By tomorrow, I’m pretty certain you’ll be thanking me for knocking you off,” he said with a confidant smile, and a gleam in his eyes. He was pure masculine beauty.
“You are trouble,” Becca muttered, shaking her head.
“Ah but, Becca, darling, I’m the best kind of trouble.”
She didn’t answer. There was no need. She’d known that fact from the moment she’d first woken in his bed. The question was, did she need any more trouble, good or otherwise?
Aster watched her eat while he devoured his own meal. But the hunger inside him had nothing to do with food, and everything to do with stripping the sexy, smart-mouthed woman across from him naked. He wanted to taste her skin, lick, bite and suck his way across her body until she was nothing but a quivering mess beneath him. Two years he’d kept a leash on the Minotaur. Sure he’d had urges like any other man did, but he’d managed to keep himself satisfied with a nice little wolf shifter. It had been easy, simple. He’d not had to worry about breaking her, and she’d known who he was, but she had to go and find herself a man, and now he was left hungering after a woman who was human, and could break so easily.
It had been months since he’d had sex, and it was becoming abruptly clear he needed release. Hell, he got hard by just looking at her.
“So what do you do for a living, Aster?”
“Work at the lumber yard on the outskirts of town. That’s where I was coming from when I…met you.”
“You mean where I met the asphalt?”
“Yeah, yeah. Never going to let that rest, are ya?”
“I could be persuaded.”
Her words were low, sultry and Aster wanted nothing more than to reach across and close his lips over hers, but he held back, choosing instead to smile. When they kissed again – which they would, he was sure – Becca would have to come to him. She had enough shadows in her eyes, and he had no intention of adding more. When Becca finally came to him, she’d be all but begging for him to ease the ache inside her.
The food had long since been eaten, and Becca had guzzled far too many glasses of wine, but she didn’t have the brain power to care. Aster watched her. Eyes heavy with desire, body radiating heat, it seeped into her pores, and pooled at her core. The ache between her thighs grew with each passing second. She clenched them in hopes of finding some relief.
An unfamiliar need blossomed low in her stomach, urging her to reach out and touch him. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been satisfied in bed. Hell, she struggled to remember when her last orgasm was.
“So what is it you did in Detroit, Becca?” Soft fingers trailed along her neck, leaving heat in their path.
Becca took a breath. “I used to work in a diner, then I just did… Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s in the past now.”
His eyes hardened for a second, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his fingers made their way to her nape, his hold firm but tender, and even though the move was clearly dominant, she allowed it. Despite his size, his gruffness, nothing about this man instilled fear in her. She thought it best not to question that too much.
“You didn’t go to college?”
Becca laughed. It was haunted, bitter. “I barely made it through high school.” So many times she’d wanted to run away when her foster father had come to her at night, but she’d been determined to at least finish high school. To accomplish that one thing.
“I didn’t go to college either. Never had the patience.” His other hand landed on her thigh. He squeezed, hot, branding. Becca felt lost in him.
“Enough questions,” Becca muttered as she slid onto his lap, straddling him. She was no longer able to resist the temptation of being close to him. She was sure warning bells should be ringing loud and clear in her mind, but there was nothing. All she felt was desire and the need to connect with the man she straddled. The movement was natural, instinctual.
His hands rested on the tops of her thighs, tugging her closer to the hard length of his arousal.
Biting back a moan, she gazed into his eyes, searching for what, she wasn’t sure. A whisper of hesitation filled her mind, but it left before she allowed it to take root. Tonight, she wasn’t on the run. Tonight, Becca was going to pretend she’d never met Alex Scar. She needed release. Release from her life, from the aching need inside her, and the jumble of thoughts forever crowding her mind.
His lips were hot, demanding, and oh so sexy. His hands remained gentle, never touching her injuries. How he had enough thought to remember the places on her body that were cut and bruised, she wasn’t sure. Becca had lost all rational thought, becoming a creature of need, her body driven by the maddening hormones racing through her blood.
Brain fogged with desire, her fingers found their way into his hair. She tugged, then hissed out a breath at the protest from her still-healing fingers.
“Slow down, Bec,” Aster murmured. Clasping her wrists, he brought them into his view. “You’ve made them bleed again.”
Becca didn’t answer, her breathing ragged, her only thought that he’d stopped. “I’ll survive,” she muttered, before bringing her lips back to his.
He hesitated for a second, until Becca flexed her hips, grinding her heated core over the length of him.
“Fuck!” he breathed, sticking his tongue into her mouth.
Becca met his kiss, demanded more. Her hips unconsciously continued their restless movements, the sounds in the back of her throat desperate and hungry.
She wasn’t sure how long she straddled him for, kissing, tasting, and drowning herself in sensation, before Aster finally pulled away. He still had hold of her wrists, not allowing her to cause herself more damage.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re drunk, Bec.”
“So,” she breathed, frustrated.
“Becca, as much as I’d love to strip you naked, and taste every inch of your skin, I’m not doing it now while you haven’t got a clear head.”
“I might be drunk, but I’ve still got enough brain cells left to know I want this.” She leaned in, kissed him teasingly.
Aster bit her lip. Smiling as she sucked in a breath, he studied her.
“What was that for?”
“Just taking a taste.”
“Let go of my wrists and taste some more,” she said in a breathy whisper.
Take her! his Beast growled.
God, how he was tempted. His beast surged forward, lunging to take control of the human side of him. He could smell her arousal, musky and heavy in the air. There was no doubt she wanted him, but it was the why that bothered Aster, and that was why he used every ounce of his willpower to rein in the beast. “Sorry, beautiful, not tonight.”
She looked hurt. Instinctively, he wanted to make it right. Leaning forward, he pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. Drawing her lip in, he sucked before releasing her. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”
“Then kiss me. Make me forget.”
He took hold of her wrists in one hand and used the other to cup her cheek. She leaned in to the touch, the shadows in her eyes returning. “Tell me what it is you need to forget, and I’ll be happy to.”
Aster knew she had no reason to trust him. Becca didn’t know him, and from what he could guess, someone—a man—had made it so Becca would never trust easily again. Yet it was the primal instincts of the beast inside him, the urge to know every secret and hurt that she’d ever had. Because although the man wasn’t quite ready to face facts, the Minotaur had known from the moment they’d met that this woman was his. Her secrets, her demons, all his to share the burden. But she shook her head, sadness filling her eyes. She wasn’t yet ready to spill her soul to him, and it was tempting to kiss her, drug her with such sensual want that she’d tell him everything. The beast whispered Yes, do it, but the man refused. Becca would tell him eventually, of that Aster was sure.
“Time to fix you back up then.”
She allowed him to lift her from his lap. She watched him with big, sad eyes as he went to the kitchen and returned with a first aid kit. Becca sat in silence as he tended to her bleeding fingers, and made no protest as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
She was stiff as he crawled in beside her, tugging her snug against his body, but soon she relaxed, and her breathing evened out, signaling sleep. Aster watched her for a while, before being dragged into a deep, dreamless sleep himself.
Waking in his arms, Becca cracked open her eyes to see it was still dark, though the birds had begun their early morning calls. She could have wriggled free from Aster’s hold, his arms tight around her, one leg slung over hers, but she chose instead to close her eyes and allow sleep to pull her back under. She wasn’t naïve enough to think herself safe and free to start a new life, but she could dream a little longer. Wrapped in Aster’s embrace, the demons of her past seemed like distant nightmares. No one chased her, and blood didn’t coat her hands.
Just a little longer, she told herself, tangling her hand with Aster’s. I’ll pretend a little longer.
The Beast Within Page 4
