by Juniper Hart
The beast in him made him all that more appealing, and when her panties slipped around her knees, she jerked her hips forward, longing to feel August’s member slide between her lips.
August sat back for a moment and stared at her, a coy smile on his lips. Without warning, he grabbed her leg and placed it over his shoulder, his appendage almost fully vertical against her voluptuous body.
Beth gaped at him, but he was already guiding himself into her ready core, his hardness entering her in a way she had never known. She cried out in ecstasy, not caring who heard, her fingers digging into his shoulders for support as he pounded into her.
August’s eyes remained fixated on hers, and as she watched, it seemed his face faded in and out of the creature she had seen on the street.
Every thrust brought her closer to her own climax, but she didn’t want this to ever end. She felt lost in his eyes, her moans growing louder to meet his as he grunted furiously.
Beth could feel him in every crevice of her body, and she trembled, screaming out her release. Her nails gouged into him, and August’s face contorted into an expression of pained pleasure as he, too, climaxed.
Cautiously, August allowed her leg down, and Beth’s knees were wobbling as she tried to regain her composure. She sank onto the lid of the toilet instead, fearing that her legs would fail her.
August casually pulled his pants up and fastened them, as if nothing of consequence had occurred inside the stall. For the first time in her life, Beth found herself tongue-tied, unsure of how to speak to him. There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, but she could not muster the words.
He turned to look at her. “Are you all right?” he asked, and Beth noticed that he didn’t have a southern drawl.
“Are you from up north?” she replied, and his smile grew broad.
“Not exactly,” August answered. He paused and looked at her for a long moment. “Why don’t you get dressed,” he suggested, “and I’ll meet you out in the club.”
Slowly, Beth nodded, suddenly remembering that Cara was still waiting for her, already half-drunk. This wasn’t the place for a conversation to get to know August.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she assured him, and he turned to leave. Before he walked out, she added, “I’m Beth!”
August chuckled, but he didn’t respond, leaving her to stare at the closed door of the stall.
It took Beth a few minutes to get herself together, but she finally managed to slip her lace panties back around her shapely hips and straighten her skirt before making her way out to the club. She ignored the critical looks of the others in the washroom, even though she felt a slow blush growing on her cheeks.
I will likely never see you again as long as I live, she thought smugly. What do I care if you heard me having sex?
A slow grin formed over her lovely face as she looked around for August. He wasn’t outside in the hall like she had expected him to be, and as her eyes scanned the interior of the club, her smile faded. She wove through the flashing lights and crowds, hoping that her gut instinct was wrong and that he was still there somewhere.
But as she found herself back at the table where Cara was barely able to hold herself up, the reality was stunningly clear: August had left.
The evening’s events flooded over her in a mass of emotions, and Beth shook her head, trying to make sense of her feelings.
“Let’s get out of here,” she called to Cara, who barely seemed aware of her surroundings. Her sister numbly rose from her seat, and Beth reached for her purse to summon an Uber.
He laughed when I told him my name because he must’ve already rejected me on the app, she realized, her heart sinking as she helped her sister outside into the humid summer air to wait for their car. And now he’s rejected me again.
“Beth! Beth, wake up!”
Groggily, Beth turned her head to stare at her mother in the doorway of her bedroom, her face twisted in concern.
“Mama, what time is it?” she moaned, pulling the covers over her head. She was nowhere near ready to embrace the horrors of the morning.
I didn’t drink nearly enough to block out what happened last night, she thought mournfully.
“Beth, the police are here!” her mother hissed. “They need to speak with you! What did you girls do last night?”
Beth threw the covers away from her face and gaped at her mom, face ashen.
“What?” she gasped. “The police are here?”
“Yes! Now hurry up and get dressed!”
She did not need to be told twice, and as her mom left her bedroom, Beth threw her legs over the side of her bed, her mind whirling.
Oh, my God, she thought, horrified. He killed him. August killed that guy! I knew it! She bit on her lower lip, trying to get her thoughts in order. What will I tell the cops? What can I tell them?
She donned a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, pulling her disheveled hair into a messy ponytail before cautiously opening the door to peer down the hallway. Where was Cara? Was she already with them? They had to agree on the same story to tell.
“Beth!” her mother yelled from downstairs. “These gentlemen are waiting!”
Beth could see she had nowhere to go. Slowly, she made her way down the steps, willing herself to be calm. She could only tell them the truth… except maybe for the part about the werewolf and the part where she’d had sex with said werewolf.
There were two men sitting on the sofa, and the older one of them rose from his seat when she walked down to meet them. “Hello, Beth. I’m Detective Harley, and this is Detective Anderson.”
Beth nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Why don’t you come and sit down,” he offered, and Beth did not argue, sinking onto a wing chair as her parents studied her with stony faces.
“What is this about?” she choked.
The two cops stared at her. “I think you know what this is about,” Anderson chimed in.
Beth inhaled sharply.
“Beth, what on earth did you get into last night?” her father yelled, but to her surprise, Detective Harley held up his hand, shaking his head.
“Oh, no, sir,” he said. “She didn’t do one thing wrong. Beth was the victim of a crime last night—a robbery.”
Her parents gasped, and Beth closed her eyes, wondering how much they knew about it.
“What?” her mother screeched.
“No, sir,” Beth replied. “It was merely an attempt. The man didn’t take a thing.”
“Yes, Beth, we know,” Detective Anderson told her. “The mugger turned himself in this morning, confessing to several similar robberies in the area over the last three months.”
“He’s not dead?” Beth blurted out, and everyone in the room seemed to furrow their brows together.
“No, ma’am,” Detective Harley said. “He came in this morning and gave a full confession. He mentioned your case, but we had no police report. That’s why we’re here. We found you on the bank’s security footage this morning.”
Beth stared at him open-mouthed.
“Why didn’t you call the police?” her father cried. “Did you get hurt? I will kill that son of a bitch!”
“No, Daddy,” Beth sighed. “There was no need to file a report because nothing happened. He got scared away by another man who came into the bank.”
“Oh, praise the Lord!” her mother cried in relief.
“Well, if you could come down to the station and make a formal report, it will help ensure he stays away longer,” Detective Anderson told her. “He has quite a lengthy record, and we would like to throw the book at him.”
Beth gulped and nodded. “Yes, all right,” she whispered as the detectives stood up from the sofa.
“If you happen to know the name of the other witness, the one who scared him off,” said Detective Harley, “that will help, too.”
Beth nodded her head, knowing she would never do such a thing. Then she spoke again. “He just…walked in and confessed? For no
reason?”
The men chuckled.
“He looked a little worse for wear,” Detective Harley informed her. “I would say that he likely got on the wrong end of a victim, but he did not explain his injuries. I think he feels safer in jail than on the streets, if I had to venture a guess.”
August must’ve scared the hell out of him, Beth realized. She lowered her eyes as the policemen left her parent’s house.
“Oh, Beth!” her mother exclaimed. “I wish you had—”
“Mama, not now,” she sighed. “I am going back to bed.”
“Beth!”
“Later, Mama!” she promised, turning to stumble back up the stairs to her bedroom.
It is the night that never ends, she thought bitterly. First thing in the morning, and I am reminded of the man who ghosted me after a fling in the bathroom.
Beth flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes.
At that moment, her phone chimed, and her lids parted. It was a notification from the dating app; she could tell by the tone. Confused, she sat up and reached for her cell on the bedside table, where she had left it charging the night before.
Her heart quickened as she recognized August’s face on the screen.
It’s a match! August Super Liked You!
She stared at the words and began to laugh.
Send message or keep playing? the screen asked her.
Beth replaced the phone on the nightstand. She knew what she would do as soon as she woke up later.
THE END
Click Here to Read the Entire Shifter Pursuit Series
5
Shifter Pursuit Series: Fated Encounter
The waves lapped toward the shore in slow, rhythmic splashes, creating a melody that apparently only Betty could hear above the din of the beach. She had fallen into a trance-like state, listening to the serene sounds around her. Somehow, she had managed to block out the other beachgoers without effort.
She felt as if it was the first moment of peace she had gotten since returning home from school, and although she knew it was fleeting, she did not want to let the rarity diminish the warmth her body was currently absorbing.
Betty also knew she shouldn’t be so far away from home, but the thought of staying near the her Dad’s house on a day off from the three jobs she had at the moment… well, she didn’t feel the need to explain herself to anyone.
There will be plenty of time for groveling and apologizing later, she decided. Today is minimally for enjoying the Gulf of Mexico and forgetting about my woes.
She sat up on the worn towel to glance around. Of course, Biloxi Beach was jammed on a July afternoon, but Betty had selected a less populated area—with reeds and grass jutting from the sand—to ensure she would not be bothered by others.
It was difficult not to notice Betty, no matter how much she tried to slink into the shadows and divert attention from herself. She was a strawberry-blonde beauty with vivid green eyes and a sensational figure.
Despite the excess flesh on the beach, Betty easily stood out among the others, as if her dignified aura caught the attention of anyone in the vicinity. Her sweet and demure disposition did not match the potential for fire that seemed to emanate from her lithe frame.
She lowered her cheap sunglasses to the edge of her nose, looking for a drink cart. She was thirsty, and she had drunk her last bottle of water an hour earlier.
Truthfully, Betty didn’t want to spend money on a beverage, but she didn’t see a water fountain nearby to fill her empty bottles of water, and she could not deny that she was parched.
Off in the distance, she saw a young boy pedaling a cart near the road, and she jumped to her feet to catch him before he disappeared into the throng. Betty waved her arms to catch the boy’s attention, but he seemed distracted by another patron approaching, and she relaxed slightly when she realized he wasn’t venturing far.
As she neared the cart, she watched the boy reach into his cooler and retrieve a bottle of water, handing it off to the man who stood just a few feet away.
Betty could almost taste the liquid on her tongue. She jogged forward, her shorts riding down over her flat stomach as she threatened to spill from her simple black bikini top. It was the same swimming attire she’d had for five years, and it was obviously starting to become too small for her, but how could she justify spending money on clothes when there were so many other more pressing needs to be tending to?
The man turned away as Betty drew toward the peddler, smiling softly at the boy.
“Just a bottle of water, please,” she said, her voice gentle. The boy looked pained as he shrugged, pointing at the retreating stranger.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but he just took the last bottle,” he sighed, and Betty stifled a moan of despair.
“Anything will do,” she told him. “Soda? Juice?”
He shook his head and glanced furtively around.
“I have beer,” he offered, but Betty shook her head. The last thing she needed was alcohol.
“It’s all right,” she murmured, disappointed. She would have to use the beach bathrooms and fill up her bottles. The thought made her cringe slightly as she thought about how unkempt the facilities were, but she had a long way to go on the bus before she could get home, and she would never make it without a drink.
“Sorry!” the boy called out as she walked away.
Dejectedly, Betty wandered back toward her towel and began to gather her meager belongings.
All good things must come to an end, she thought wryly, unwilling to let the unexpected hiccup ruin the temporary bliss she had been experiencing. Lacy and Tom are probably having a hard time with Dad, anyway. I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.
A small flash of guilt coursed through her as she waved the sandy towel free of debris and packed it away in her bag. Perhaps it was best that she just returned home as soon as she could.
“Excuse me.”
Betty half turned at the sound of a voice, and she glanced at an attractive man standing at her back.
His dark brown hair caught hints of auburn in the bright Mississippi sunlight, and he wore no sunglasses, his irises a deep, smoldering grey. His short-sleeved button-down was undone, exposing a six-pack under gleaming bronze skin, and Betty struggle to pull her green eyes away from his incredible physique.
The man had a bemused expression on his face, and Betty had the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. She was sure she wouldn’t ever forget meeting someone like him, though.
To her amazement, he held out a bottle of water.
“This is for you,” he told her.
Betty’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, confused. How could he possibly know I was looking for a bottle of water?
The man offered her a brilliant smile, gesturing for her to take the water, but Betty could not help being suspicious of him, even as she eagerly reached for the bottle in his hands.
“I was the guy who took the last bottle from the cart,” he explained, and she felt a whoosh of relief course through her body.
He’s not some crazy stalker, she realized.
“Oh, I can’t take this then. You need it,” she told him, holding herself back from opening the cap.
The man, however, shook his dark head. “I found another cart further down the beach,” he told her. “This one is all yours.”
Betty continued staring at him, cocking her head to the side as she opened the bottle.
“I—thank you,” she said, glad that a stranger was being so kind to her but unsure of his reasons or intentions.
The man offered her a hand. “I’m Hayden. Hayden Chalmers,” he said.
Betty accepted his palm and nodded.
“Betty,” she replied simply, quickly withdrawing her hand. She focused on the water, taking a big swig in the form of a distraction.
It was not that men did not hit on her. On the contrary, in fact. She was often approached by all kinds of them, but there was something about Ha
yden that made her tongue-tied and nervous.
“Maybe I can take you for a drink somewhere with air conditioning?” he suggested, and Betty bit on her lower lip. She wanted to say yes, but she shifted her eyes downward.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, leaning down to grab her bag. “I have to get home.”
“Can I give you a ride somewhere?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” Betty answered. “I live in Gulfport.” As she spoke the words, she wondered why she had provided so much information to a stranger she didn’t know anything about. At least, anything other than his name.
But he doesn’t feel like a stranger, she thought, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she had seen him at the drink cart. It was almost déjà vu, like the feeling that had overcome her when she had first seen him in front of her. She couldn’t help thinking she had met him somewhere else, even though she didn’t remember it.
Maybe in another life, Betty thought, and she was instantly ashamed by the inane idea. There are no other lives—only the hand we’re dealt in this one.
“My car goes to Gulfport,” Hayden joked lightly. “I would be happy to take you home.”
Again, Betty shook her head, a deep blush painting her cheeks.
“No, thank you,” she repeated, turning away. Before she hurried off, she glanced back over her shoulder to look at him. “And thank you for the water!”
Their eyes locked for a single instant, and Betty forced herself to hurry away.
That was a weird encounter, she thought, swallowing the nervousness in her throat. When she got to the road, Betty turned back to look at where Hayden had been standing, but he was no longer there, and she was flooded with disappointment.
Why didn’t I just let him drive me home? she asked herself, but the question was ridiculous. No one could see where she lived; especially not a handsome, charming man. He would run away screaming and never look back.
Lacy was almost in tears when Betty arrived at the small, worn-down house, and she could see why immediately.
