by Tina Donahue
“I spent the night in the hills. The next day I searched campsites for food and clothes. When I was dressed, I ran to the first populated area I could find, bummed some change, and called my mom. She arranged for me to come home. That’s it. Everything.”
Wylder pushed to a sitting position. “Does Kade know you’re here?”
“No. I never mentioned Los Lobos. I kept the secret.”
“Where did he think you grew up?”
“From the time I began modeling, I told everyone I was from New York. Homeless since I was fourteen, when my mom couldn’t take care of me or herself any longer, and I didn’t want anyone asking me stupid questions about my painful past. Thankfully, no one did.”
“Will he come looking for you?”
Her face turned white. “How could he? He doesn’t know the town exists.”
Something nagged at the back of his mind but Wylder couldn’t pinpoint the thought. “Where is he from originally? LA? Somewhere else? What’s the address of the house you guys shared?”
She scooted back on the grass. “No. I do not want you going out there and doing anything to him. You could get caught.”
“Not if the authorities never find his body.”
“What? No. This is why I don’t want to get involved with you.” She stood.
So did he. “Baby, we’re already involved.”
She slapped his hands away. “Not like you want. This is about sex, nothing more. Having a good time. Do you understand me?”
He tempered his frustration and concern, keeping things easy to avoid spooking her. “Yeah. We’ll do things your way.”
“Swear to me you won’t leave here and try to do anything to him. No—wait. Swear to me you will never do anything to him or go within a thousand miles of where he is. I want your word.”
Shit. He gave it.
“I have to go.” She shifted and took off.
Starr shouldn’t have told him about Kade but she trusted Wylder not to break his word. He was a good man. The freaking best. Her scar had shocked him but he wasn’t repulsed. Respect and tenderness had shone on his beautiful face.
Love, too.
At fourteen, she would have been over the moon to have him give her such a response. At twenty-six, she was far more cautious, worrying whether she had a right to love him in return. If they’d ever actually be together. Despite the town’s hidden location, she kept expecting to see Kade racing toward her, ready to pounce, his face ugly with hate. At times, she thought she smelled his scent, her mind playing tricks. Until she was free of the past, she couldn’t move forward with Wylder into the future. Wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
“Sweetie, I need to get to the press.”
“Sorry.” She stepped back to let her mom pass.
The workshop smelled of paint her mother had applied to a metal wall hanging of stylized starbursts, the purple and silver colors streaked with gold. Next to it was a piece with bobbing flames in gold, red, and, silver. Torches, a welder, grinder, and other stuff littered the long wooden tables, looking more like instruments of torture than tools.
Her mom gestured to the metal pieces next to the press. “Ready for your next lesson?”
“No.”
“Come on. You can learn to do this if you try.”
Nope. She was hopelessly uncreative. “Wylder should be doing this, not me. His candy tree was epic.”
“Have you talked to him recently?”
Not for a few days. Probably for the best given how she’d bolted from him, like he used to do with her. Maybe there would come a time when neither of them ran, or if they did, they’d race toward each other rather than away. “We’ll talk, I’m sure.”
And a whole lot more.
Despite her caution, Starr ached for his touch, rumbling voice, scent, and strength. “You should suggest he do this.”
“I’m happy with him delivering the pieces for me, along with some of the other guys in town.”
“Hey, I could do deliveries and he could do this.”
Her mom pulled two Dove squares out of her jeans’ pocket and tossed one to Starr. “You could go with him when he delivers my orders, make sure the paperwork is good. He has a run this Saturday.”
“I’ll probably be busy.”
“Doing what?”
“How about helping you? You should teach a class in this.”
Her mom studied a square of aluminum, one in copper, and another in brass. “The kids don’t want to study subjects they’ll actually need. I doubt they’d like this.”
“I’m not talking about classes at the pack schoolhouse. I meant Sioux Falls University.”
She made a face. “The school’s six hours away. You know I don’t travel.”
“Who said you had to? You could video conference or Skype, whatever works. You could do online tutorials without leaving this workshop. It’s great advertising for you. This is totally doable with the updates Roland made to the cell towers and the Wi-Fi infrastructure. I could set things up.”
She looked queasy. “I don’t think so. We might risk the town’s safety.”
“Mom, please.” She rested her hands on the woman’s narrow shoulders. “You wouldn’t be revealing anything except how to make this stuff, like you’re trying to teach me—which, by the way, I really don’t want to do. The camera would only show you and this workshop, not an address, phone number, or route into town. I could be your publicity and marketing director. You could make a ton of money.”
“I already have several tons with the trust fund you set up and refuse to take back for yourself.”
“Come on, at least think about it.”
She screwed up her mouth. The phone rang. “Saved by the bell.”
Starr craned her neck to see the display. Unknown was on the screen. Her stomach twisted. “Don’t answer.”
The phone rang again. “Why not?”
“Have you been getting a lot of unknown calls since I got back?”
“No. I’ve been getting them for years from salespeople wanting to know if I need dental insurance, an extended warranty on my car, if I’d like a magazine subscription. I get their company name and put them on the no-call list so they quit bothering me. I’m unlisted. They shouldn’t even have access to my number.” She answered the call. “Hello?” After a moment, she frowned.
Starr mouthed, ‘Who is it?’
Her mother lifted one finger to her and spoke to the caller. “Wait a sec. I didn’t get your name or the company’s. Can you repeat them?” She grabbed a pencil and wrote down Sally and the name of a dental plan. “Thanks. By the way, Sally, I’m on the no-call list. I’m reporting you immediately to the FTC. Have a nice day.” She hung up. “Are you worried Kade will come after you?”
Always. Her fear of him hadn’t waned a bit despite Kade not knowing about this place or the pack. “No.”
“Can he find you through my emails? Is that why you had me change the address?”
“I did so because he knew it. He doesn’t know anything else about us. I never told him. He certainly hasn’t a clue this place exists. Will you, at least, consider what I proposed about doing classes? If you’re totally opposed, I could still make myself useful by delivering stuff for you.”
“Not without Wylder. I mean it. You can go with him Saturday.” She smiled. “I’m sure he’d love to have you along.”
***
Despite having made love with Wylder like a rutting animal and having bared her soul to him afterward, Starr didn’t know what to say on the ride to their stop. A touristy shop two hours outside of Los Lobos. Her mom’s creations were in the bed of a dark-blue pickup he’d borrowed, the metal designs crated to avoid any harm.
Sunlight dappled the road, the rays winking between the towering pines. A soft country ballad played on the radio, an artist unknown to her singing about a broken heart.
Wylder tapped his fingers in time with the low-thumping bass, not even trying to make conversation. He seemed content s
imply to be with her.
Any more of his kindness or patience and she was going to cave like a horny teenaged boy in a brothel. She pulled a candy bar out of her pocket. “Here.”
He grinned. “Thanks. Peel it for me? Don’t want to take my hands off the wheel.”
She not only peeled the damn thing, she slipped bite size pieces between his lips. He kept sucking her fingers rather than eating the treat.
By the time they delivered the artwork, she was relaxed enough to enjoy their comfortable silence. Aroused, too.
Outside the shop, he gestured to the quaint business district. “Would you like to have lunch?”
She wanted to feast on him. “Let’s get a couple of ham-and-cheese sandwiches, maybe some potato salad and cole slaw. Have a picnic.”
“You’re on.”
They stopped several miles outside of Los Lobos in a heavily wooded area off a dirt road. The kind of place no tourist or even the most dedicated nature buff would ever find. “Have you been here before?”
“Yeah. Discovered this place a couple of months ago. I think you’ll like it.”
Hand in hand, they strolled through the trees, nature the only witness to their presence. The air had never seemed fresher to her, though its scent had nothing on him. His clean skin and musk muddied her thoughts. At times, she could scarcely breathe.
He turned to the right, the trees so thick only a few threads of sunlight trickled through.
She lowered her face at a rustling sound she couldn’t quite place. “What is that?”
“You’ll see.”
The forest suddenly gave way to a thick carpet of grass and a waterfall. The slender stream of water poured past the rocks, a rainbow hovering above the mist. Her mouth fell open. “Wow.”
“You like?”
“Almost as much as your candy tree. This is too good to waste.” She tore off her clothes.
Took him a second to catch up. After dropping their bag of food on the grass, he got naked, too.
She ran to the back of the fall. The stone was cool and damp beneath her toes, the air charged. Before Wylder could grab her, she sank to her knees in front of him, cradling his cock in one hand, cupping his balls in the other.
He shot to his toes. Water pearled on his hairy thighs. She licked the beads away and buried her face in his thatch, moaning like a wild woman at his natural fragrance. Earthy. Virile. Wicked nice. Unable to resist, she took his thickened rod in her mouth, every blessed inch, the tip of her nose touching his dark curls.
“Fuck.” He wavered.
She followed, loving the slight saltiness of his skin, its striking heat. Depraved, wanting sounds poured from her. Him, too. Both of them beyond redemption and not caring. This was what mattered. The same as having someone you could trust by your side.
She slid her tongue down the length of his rod and flicked the uneven skin at the back of the head.
“Aw, crap, crap, crap.” His knees sagged. “I’m going to come.”
That was her plan.
She worked him in and out of her mouth, sucking, licking, loving. He howled like the wolf he was, his cum shooting on her tongue, rich and creamy. She savored the taste, wonderfully different from other guys. Pure man with a heady taste of beast.
Growling, she released his cock and sucked one of his balls into her mouth.
“Fuck, shit, stop.”
She didn’t want to.
“Please.” He panted. “You’re gonna kill me.”
He sounded like he was about to cry. She tongued his nut out of her mouth. “Sorry.”
“S’okay.” He wobbled down to his knees and hung his head. Water dripped off the ends of his hair.
She squeezed his damp shoulder. “Gonna make it?”
“Fuck yeah.” He whipped his arm around her waist and brought her down.
She grinned. “Bad boy. You were faking.”
He gulped more air. “Not entirely.” Settled between her legs, he slid his hands beneath her ass. “Don’t you dare move.”
Like she would, given what he was about to do? “Can I make noise?”
“Screech your lungs out. No one will hear you.”
True. The crashing water soundproofed their makeshift bedroom. “Go on. Pleasure me—ravage me.”
“I prefer to love you.”
Her throat constricted with emotion. She arched forward and pressed her lips to his shoulder then sank her teeth into his flesh. Pouring all of her love and need into claiming him. Peace filled her soul, a completeness she’d never thought to experience.
He stared, reverence and wonder on his face. And then he claimed her with his bite. What she’d craved for so long.
They loved each other as they hadn’t before, Wylder dazzling her with his tenderness and passion. Both equally important. After sweeping his tongue down the length of her cleft and sucking her puffy folds, he licked her clit.
A throaty moan tore from her, the familiar ache building between her legs. Threads of pleasure trailed past there to warm her chest and heat her cheeks.
He slipped two fingers into her channel, held her nub between his teeth, and licked relentlessly.
She gasped and shouted. The world seesawed so badly, she pressed her fingers against the slick stone for some measure of control. Impossible. Dazed, she rode the crest, soaring through space and time until nothing existed except the enchanting delight of his mouth, touch, presence, and love.
Chapter Five
Despite the creativity Wylder had shown in making his candy tree, he nixed the idea of being her mom’s protégé.
“All thumbs.” He held up his hands.
They were as magnificent as the rest of him, strong and masculine. Starr sucked each of his fingertips and nuzzled his palms. “No prob. Whether you have two thumbs or ten won’t matter a bit when you help me with Mom’s video and sales presentation.”
“Huh?”
“She needs an objective audience. I’m her daughter. She’ll think I’m biased.”
“You are. So am I. Toward you.”
“Then you’ll come—I mean, you’ll be there?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
No, she didn’t. His commitment to them and what she wanted was nicer than anything she’d known.
Over the next days, Starr called upon her years in modeling and the entertainment industry. She set the stage, so to speak, for her mom’s sales presentation to the university and her YouTube video. The workshop was tidy, tools lined up in the order Ethra would introduce them to students at the school or on the Net. Earlier, Starr had gone online purchasing the best video equipment. She’d had her purchases shipped to her mom’s post office box in Collins, a neighboring town.
Ready to roll, she adjusted the camera, along with the tripod, and fooled with the lighting.
Wylder leaned against one of the worktables, out of camera range. “You should make films of the town and the pack for posterity.”
“Gee’s the keeper of those memories or did you forget? I doubt he’d want anyone horning in on his territory.”
Wylder regarded a monitor showing the area she’d film. The angle made the room seem larger than the actual square footage, her mom’s art displayed in the background to pique interest, rather than coming off like a hard sell. “You’re so good at this.”
She made a dismissive sound. “I can’t even get my leading lady to show up.” She lifted her face and yelled, “Mom!”
“Coming, coming, coming. No need to make such a racket.” She rushed into the room.
Starr made a face. “What are you wearing?”
“Clothes.”
Her ensemble looked as if she’d plucked the garments off the set of the 1950s hit Leave it To Beaver. Her blouse was frilly, skirt voluminous. She’d even donned a string of pearls and heels. Apparently, she’d also been shopping on Amazon these last days. Starr gestured to the getup. “Those duds have to go.”
“No. I want to look good.”
“You’re
not baking cookies here. You’re pounding metal, soldering stuff, spray painting. You need to wear jeans and a simple tee, along with your safety gear. Right?” She turned to Wylder.
He looked like the proverbial deer caught in headlights or in the ravenous stare of a wolf. “Uh.”
“He agrees.” She turned back to her mom. “Trust me. I know how these promo things work. Go on, change. We’ll wait.”
Muttering beneath her breath, Ethra stomped down the hall.
“No makeup either,” Starr called out. “You’re selling knowledge, not trying to fill your dance card with potential mates.”
Wylder groaned. Starr shot him a look.
Once her mom was back to looking as she usually did—naturally beautiful—Starr stood next to her and pointed at the camera. “See the red light? Talk to it, look at it, nowhere else.”
“Not even when I’m pounding or soldering?”
Jeez. “You can look away to see what you’re doing, but occasionally glance at the camera as you talk, so you appear to be speaking to your audience. Ready?”
She clenched her teeth and nodded.
Starr patted her shoulder. “Relax. Smile. Look as if you’re enjoying this.” She got in place behind the equipment and pointed her finger. “Action.”
“What?”
“Go. Start talking.”
Her mom nodded, smoothed her tee then pulled a stray hair off her top.
“Cut.” Starr planted her hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”
Ethra arched one eyebrow. “I want to look good.”
“You’re as gorgeous as your daughter.” Wylder grinned.
Ethra ignored him. “Take a picture first. I want to see how I look.”
God. “You’re perfect.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Starr caved and did some test shots, directing her mother to act naturally, seem enthused, smile on occasion. Unfortunately, the woman’s acting skills were as bad as Starr’s had been.
