Shy (Once Bitten, Twice Shy, #2)

by Marie, Noelle

  Bastian's hands reached out towards her, his fingers wrapping carefully but firmly around her miniscule biceps. "Katherine, I love you. I don't want to lose you."

  She and Bastian were true mates – destined mates, even. Didn't the infuriating man realize that she would never leave him? They she couldn’t even truly contemplate the idea of it?

  And there he was throwing the "l-word" around again. Katherine wasn't quite feeling reckless enough to say it back, but she was feeling brave enough to try something else. Her eyes flickered to Bastian’s lips before slowly rising up to meet his intense gaze head on. "Prove it," she dared.

  No sooner had the whispered words left her mouth did Bastian’s lips crash into hers. So different from the last tentative – almost lazy – kiss they'd shared, this one was positively electrifying. Katherine's lips were barely able to keep up the frenzied pace Bastian's set when she felt his probing tongue pushing against them, demanding entrance into her mouth. Without a second thought, Katherine wrapped her arms around Bastian's neck and let him in.

  As he ravaged her mouth, Bastian's hands slid down her arms, finding their way to just under the hem of her shirt and possessively gripping her bare hips.

  In a lustful daze, Katherine was hardly aware of being picked up and set on Bastian’s lap as he maneuvered them onto the bed. Goosebumps erupted across her flesh as the man moved his attention to her neck, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin there before catching the lobe of her left ear between sharp teeth and giving it a delicate tug.

  "B-Bastian..." Katherine would have probably been embarrassed by the half-whimper, half-moan that escaped her mouth if she had the chance to think about it, but it was hard to do any thinking at all when two calloused thumbs began stroking her belly from where Bastian still gripped her hips. She gasped as one brushed over her belly button.

  Desperate to touch the man – to make his body respond to her in the same way hers was responding to him – Katherine allowed her hands to creep up under Bastian's shirt, lightly dragging her nails over heated skin as she explored the expanse of his back.

  Bastian groaned into her neck. He shifted beneath her and Katherine's heart fluttered nervously – excitedly? – when she suddenly realized she could feel the hard evidence of Bastian's very apparent desire for her trapped between their stomachs.

  Blindly following her instincts, she molded herself against him, lifting her hips and pressing the part of her that most ached to be touched against his blatant hardness.

  It was as if she'd dumped a bucket of ice water over Bastian's head.

  He shot up out of bed so quickly that Katherine lost her balance and fell gracelessly to the floor, landing painfully on her butt. She blinked, momentarily stunned.

  Seemingly shocked himself, Bastian stared at where she now sat on the floor. Breaking free of his stupor, he quickly reached for her, grabbing Katherine under her armpits and hauling her back onto her feet. "I'm sorry."

  Embarrassed tears pooling in her eyes, Katherine pushed the man away from her. She knew the pathetic shove wouldn't have budged him unless he was willing to move, but he obligingly took a step back. "You're sorry?" she demanded angrily. "For what? Knocking me to the floor? Or finding my touch so repulsive that you felt the need to do so?"

  Bastian's eyebrow drew together and the man had the nerve to look hurt. "Katherine. You know that's not true."

  "No. I don't know that. Bastian, this is the first time we've kissed properly in months – as in like five of them." Katherine gathered every last speck of her courage and looked him straight in the eye. "Don't you want me?"

  Bastian looked so genuinely bewildered that just the tiniest bit of her anger began to fade. "Of course I want you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything in my life. As goddamn ridiculous as it sounds, I want you more than I want to take my next breath."

  What remained of Katherine's anger deflated. But despite the soothing balm his sweet words had spread over her hurting heart, she couldn’t shake her confusion or nagging insecurity quite so easily. "Then kiss me."

  Bastian's stance stiffened, and he looked away from her, refusing to meet her eyes.

  And just like that the hurt and anger returned. "Bastian, please."

  Tense silence filled the room for a long, uncomfortable moment. When Bastian finally opened his mouth, it wasn't to say what Katherine wanted to hear. "I've got to go."

  He brushed past her without a second glance.

  Face sporting an angry, blotchy flush, Katherine watched in disbelief as the door swung shut behind his retreating form. Desperately trying to hang on to what remained of her tattered dignity, she just barely managed to refrain from grabbing the bed side lamp and chucking it at the mockingly closed door.

  CHAPTER TWO

  While the lamp had survived Katherine’s encounter with Bastian intact, her self-esteem had not. As much as she hated to admit it, she was hurt. Embarrassed. Angry. And mostly, very confused.

  Bastian claimed to want her. His body certainly seemed to attest to that fact if what she’d felt when she was on his lap was any indication. Yet twice he'd rebuffed her when she'd attempted to be intimate with him. He was refusing to even kiss her after the most recent attempt.

  Honestly, his actions – or lack thereof – were beginning to make Katherine feel like some sort of deviant. A sexual predator of sorts. Which, considering her distinct lack of experience, was ridiculous. Laughable even.

  Except Katherine wasn't laughing. How could she when a swirling whirlwind of anxiety and hurt-induced anger swelled within her whenever she thought of the man?

  She took to avoiding him. Which probably would have been more satisfying if he didn't appear to be avoiding her as well. How could she properly give Bastian the cold shoulder if he wasn't around to give the cold shoulder to? It was infuriating.

  He wasn't even sleeping in the massive bed they usually shared together. Katherine didn't know where he'd been the last few nights, but it hadn't been with her. Unfortunately, she hadn't realized how much she'd grown to depend on the reassuring warmth of his body next to hers until it was gone.

  Her sleep without him was fitful at best. Her restless legs kicked the covers here and there, equally agitated arms adjusting the pillows over and over again. She continually woke up feeling more tired than she'd been when she'd gone to bed.

  A white as a sheet pallor and red rimmed eyes were the result. As was an incredibly short temper.

  So when Markus threw her down flat on her butt for the fifth time in so many minutes, Katherine had had enough.

  Since Bastian had been missing in action, she'd convinced his second in command to be her sparring partner. She wanted to improve her admittedly abysmal fighting skills as much as possible before the Recruiting Rites, which was set to take place on the next full moon – precisely two nights away.

  Markus had been surprisingly agreeable when she'd asked for him to practice with her. Probably because he enjoyed laying her out, sadistic bastard that he was.

  They'd agreed to practice in the backyard, quickly transformed into their wolf forms, and her lesson in humiliation had begun.

  It didn't help matters that the rest of the pack – sans Bastian, of course – had followed them outside to watch the lop-sided fight, offering her what she was sure they thought were helpful suggestions as she was slammed to the ground again and again.

  “You're too small to directly attack him like that! Wait for him to spring at you and use his momentum against him.” Zane.

  “Baloney! Katherine, honey, you’re fast enough to take him by surprise and get a couple of swipes in before he retaliates.” Sophie.

  “But he will retaliate! And then she’ll have lost her position! And for what? For the sake of giving Markus a few measly scratches?” Zane again.

  “Uh, guys, I think we might be distracting her.” Caleb – at least one of them had some sense.

  What made it even more embarrassing was the fact that Markus was so
clearly going easy on her. She’d have more than just a sore behind if that wasn't the case.

  In fact, his hazel eyes, peering out of his wolfish face, were laughing at her.

  Something in Katherine snapped.

  Not waiting for the go signal from Zane, she lunged at Markus, her sharp teeth bared as she went for an unprotected shoulder. Before her canines could tear into flesh, however, Markus quickly countered her unexpected attack. Lowering his shoulder, he did what Zane had suggested she do and used her momentum against her, flipping her body over his with ease.

  Katherine landed on her back with a painful thud.

  Before she could even process what had happened, a naked Markus was standing over her, eyes still blazing, but no longer with good humor. "What the hell, girlie?"

  Knowing that her anger was misplaced didn't stop it from burning brightly in her chest. Concentrating on that anger, Katherine forced her body to change back into its human form, the bizarre sensation of shifting bones and flesh still so foreign to her. Quickly grabbing the t-shirt she'd shed on the grass before she'd transformed for the fighting lesson, she attempted to preserve her modesty by palming it to her bare chest. "I don't even know why I bothered asking for your help," she spit out at Markus, groping the ground with her free hand in an attempt to find her pants.

  "Me neither," he snorted. "You're not even attempting to learn anything."

  "It's not exactly easy to concentrate with an unending stream of unsolicited advice being spewed out at you." She shifted her glare onto the other members of her pack, who were watching their confrontation with concern.

  "We're trying to help you. Don’t take the fact that you wouldn't even be able to protect yourself from a goddamn squirrel out on us."

  Katherine's cheeks flashed red hot. "Screw you, Markus."

  The man continued on like he hadn't heard her. "And don't take the fact that you're quarreling with lover boy out on us either."

  Katherine froze.

  "Markus!" Sophie scolded, instantly making her way over to them.

  "No," he scowled over his shoulder at the incoming blonde. "I'm sick and tired of walking on eggshells around these two idiots.” He turned his attention back on the girl prone at his feet. "Look, I don't know what you guys are fighting about, but Bastian's been pissy as hell and you've been moping around the house like a petulant child. It's driving us crazy, so whatever happened between you two, suck it up and make up with him already. Got it?"

  Afraid of what would come out if she opened her mouth, Katherine pressed her lips together as tightly as she could. When she was sure nothing as embarrassing as a cry would be released, she allowed a few words to escape. "Go to hell."

  Unfortunately, she still hadn't managed to find her pants. So with as much dignity as she could possibly muster under the circumstances, Katherine stood up and stomped back to the house, only caring a little that she was giving them a perfect view of a full moon that they didn’t regularly howl to.

  As soon as the back door slammed shut behind her, however, she quickly scuttled to her bedroom, throwing clothes haphazardly out of the closet as she searched for some scrap of fabric to cover her exposed bottom. A sheen of tears blurring her vision, she didn't even realize she'd grabbed a hideous pair of fuchsia leggings – something Sophie had probably bought for her at some point – until they were halfway up her thighs.

  As unreasonable as it was to get angry at a pair of pants, Katherine felt her temper spike. More tears gathered in her eyes, and she roughly wiped the green orbs before pressing the palms of her hands as hard as she could into the sockets, willing the traitorous tears to go away.

  It was positively stupid. Crying over a pair of pants. Over Markus being his usual abrasive self. She didn't know which made her more pathetic.

  What was wrong with her?

  Knock. Knock.

  Before she could berate herself further, soft knocking on the bedroom door broke her out of her funk. Eying the slab of mahogany, Katherine was tempted to ignore whoever was on the other side.

  Knock. Knock. "Katherine?"

  Recognizing the hesitant voice as Sophie's commanding soprano, she sighed before quickly finishing tugging up the hideous pants that’d nearly caused another melt down and yanking open the door. Sophie eyed her carefully, the corners of her mouth dipping into a frown when she caught sight of her undoubtedly puffy eyes.

  Katherine crossed her arms over her chest, resisting the urge to fidget. "What?"

  Sophie sighed. "Can I come in?"

  Katherine shrugged, pulling her shoulder to her ear in uncertainty. "Sure, I guess."

  Needing no further invitation, the blonde slipped past her and settled herself on the unkempt bed in the middle of the room. She patted on the wrinkled sheets to her right, gesturing for Katherine to join her.

  Shutting the door, Katherine obeyed and plopped down beside her. "Well?" she demanded.

  Sophie pursed her lips. "Markus is a first class asshat. We both know that."

  Katherine resisted the urge to snort. Amen to that.

  "That being said," she hesitated a moment, "he's not exactly wrong."

  Katherine could physically feel the tension gathering in her shoulders. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.

  "It means," Sophie stressed, "that something clearly happened between you and Bastian. And believe me, I love the man, but I know how frustrating he can be sometimes... so, what do you say? Do you want to talk about it, whatever it is?"

  Katherine sighed, nervous energy causing her to run her hands through her hair. "It's kind of hard to explain."

  She watched as Sophie braced herself before asking another question. "He... he didn't do anything to you, did he? Something sexual that you're not comfortable with?"

  It took Katherine a minute to register exactly what Sophie was asking, and as understanding dawned, she struggled to control the hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble up her throat. "No!" she choked, immediately assuring the other girl. "No. I... it's actually the complete opposite of the problem."

  Sophie frowned, confused wrinkles appearing on her brow. "What do you mean?"

  "He won't touch me. Like, at all. Anywhere." There. She’d said it.

  Sophie's eyebrows rose incredulously. "That's crazy," she pointed out. "Bastian loves you. You two are destined mates for God's sake."

  Nervous about the fact that she was about to air her inner insecurities out for Sophie to hear, Katherine sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. "I know he loves me. Or at least it seems that way. But maybe our bond feels more platonic in nature to him. Like I'm his sister or something. I don't know. Maybe... maybe he doesn't feel that way about me – the way I feel about him.”

  Now it looked like Sophie was the one who wanted to laugh. "That’s absurd. I am Bastian's sister and believe me, the way he feels about me isn't at all similar to the way he feels about you. Quite frankly, it doesn't hold a candle to it. That man adores you."

  "He doesn't even kiss me anymore," Katherine pointed out in a whisper.

  Sophie sighed. "Listen sweetie, I can't even attempt to understand the way my brother thinks, but if there is something I know beyond any doubt whatsoever, it is that he doesn't just love you, he wants you. Badly. Do you realize how uncomfortable it is for me, his actual sister, to watch him practically undress you with his eyes every time he sees you? For God's sake, I think the sexual tension between you two even makes Markus uncomfortable and that, my dear, is quite the feat."

  Katherine acknowledged the comforting words with a nod, but she couldn't quite get them to take root in her heart.

  Sophie seemed to sense her struggle. "Bastian's a man that requires an absurd amount of patience. Just promise me you won't give up on him, okay?"

  Katherine sighed, willing with all her might for the stiffness in her shoulders to dissipate. "Okay," she agreed. "I promise."

  * * *

  Katherine’s promise was sorely tested not even a handful of hours la
ter at supper. Bastian had actually shown up for the meal for the first time since their “argument”, for lack of a better word, and the unresolved tension between Katherine and the brooding man made it an uncomfortable affair for everyone.

  Perhaps except for Marcus.

  "Pass the gravy over here, will you sweet cheeks?"

  An embarrassed blush crept up Katherine's neck, reddening her entire face. A quick glance over the table piled high with food – three pork loafs and two overflowing bowls of steamed potatoes along with a platter of buttered bread – confirmed what she already knew.

  "There is no gravy, Markus," she replied between gritted teeth.

  "Oh," he shrugged in faux innocence, "my mistake."

  Katherine wanted to throttle him.

  And it didn't look like she was the only one. Bastian's dark eyes glowered in disapproval, the corner of his upper lip rising in a near silent snarl.

  Markus had the good sense to shut his trap after that, and the remainder of the meal was spent in a tense silence broken only by the sound of metal forks scraping against ceramic plates.

  As Bastian finished eating and rose to take his leave, which signaled to the others that they may be excused from the table as well, he finally broke his vow of silence and called out to her. "Katherine?"

  Her shoulders hunched into each other defensively as she forced her eyes to meet the blue ones they'd been attempting to avoid all throughout dinner. She could feel the others watching her. "Yes?" she answered as dully as she could manage.

  Bastian's eyes narrowed. "I need to speak with you."

  Katherine's arm shot out in a grand, sweeping – and terribly mocking –motion before she could stop it. "Lead the way."

  She tried not to let the disappointment show on her face when he made his way towards the den instead of the bedroom they shared together – or had used to share together at any rate.

  She wasn't able to stop a surprised gasp from escaping, however, when as soon as the door closed shut behind them and he turned to face her, Bastian grabbed her by the waist – his large hands nearly spanning the entirety of its circumference – and deposited her gently on the top of the desk in the center of the room.