by Dixon, Ruby
Inside my bedroom, though, Maddie shines bright enough to light up every dark space. Even the ones inside of me, because the idea of her leaving generates a physical pain somewhere in the vicinity of where my heart is supposed to be.
I don’t want a mate, I remind myself.
But my heart is thumping too wildly to hear. And the bear is growling with excitement. I ease down the shield I’ve kept up all my thirty-one years and entertain the idea of a mate for the first time.
It doesn’t make me want to run. It doesn’t make me draw back. It feels…right. As if all the disjointed, jagged pieces inside me that chafed at my core, leaving small cuts and abrasions that irritated me day in and day out, click into place. Maddie sits in the middle of my big bed, wearing nothing but a flushed smile and a sheet, and I realize that I built this house for her. For the cubs we’re going to make. For the family we’re going to have.
No. She’s not going anywhere.
“It’s not time to go,” I tell her and walk out. “I’m going downstairs to rustle up some food,” I toss over my shoulder.
Behind me I can hear her hop off the bed and then shuffle around. I frown. I should have taken her clothes so she’d have been forced to stay. But then I drove her here, and she’s not leaving unless she takes my truck. I hustle down to the kitchen to hide my keys. If she asks, I’ll tell her I lost them. Or I’ll just not tell her anything.
She shuffles down the stairs and joins me in the kitchen. I give a grunt of approval as I take in her appearance. She’s pulled her hair back and is wearing my T-shirt. The arms are rolled up several times, but the hem of the shrunken garment hits her right at the top of her thighs.
When she moves, the shirt rides up, and I see hints of her pretty pussy. The only thing better than this naughty peekaboo would be to see her naked.
“How do you like your steak?” I ask before I throw her onto the counter and have her as my late-night snack.
“Um, steak sounds good.” She sounds uncertain and looks around warily. I decide now is not the time to spring on her that I’ve suddenly changed my mind and that she’s my mate.
While I don’t have much experience in the one-night stand category, it’s not hard to figure out that springing a life-long commitment on a girl who only really wanted to shave my beard off is the wrong way to procure a second date.
I pull out the cast-iron pan, turn up the flame to high, and set out the meat to warm. Maddie wanders around. “You’ve a really nice place here. It‘s big and open. “She peers out the sliding glass doors.
“I built it.“ My brag slips out, and I shut up before I can say anything more. I sound like a douchebag, boasting about my bank account.
“I’m not surprised.” She gives me an appraising head-to-toe inspection. “Is that what you do for a living, or did you put this together in your spare time?”
“Yes and yes.” I rummage around and find potatoes. “I run a couple of construction crews in Pine Falls, but I did this on the nights and weekends mostly. Took a year.”
“Well, it’s gorgeous. All these windows in the back here almost make you feel like you are outdoors.”
“The whole wall is a bunch of doors that open up and can be pushed to the side.”
“Oh!” Her eyes grow wide. “I bet that’s awesome in the spring.”
“You can come and see for yourself,” I offer. Or stay here and watch the seasons change and experience it all.
She lights up in anticipation, but it doesn’t last long. And the scent of the meat on the verge of going from just right to overdone prevents me from exploring her swift mood change.
“You’ll have to drive me home,” she says pensively.
“Why?” I ask bluntly. “You got shit to do tonight?”
“Noooo.” She draws out the word. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I do have to be at work tomorrow to do Mrs. Carter’s hair. She likes to get her blue rinse done in the morning.”
“You’re not overstaying anything.” My tone’s a little harsh, but I don’t want her leaving. Can’t deal with that, really. “Your steak’s done.”
“If you’re sure…” She trails off.
I can’t read her entirely. Does she want to leave? “Are you saying ‘Albuquerque’?”
“Oh.” She perks up. “Are we still scening?”
Meaning, are we still playing our Dom and subbie roles? Not really. Inwardly, I curse in frustration that I have to take these baby steps with her. Can’t I just keep her here? I’d take good care of her. She could shave me all over if that’s what it took. For now, I’ll be the Dom that she needs. “Anytime we’re inside these walls, yes.”
Her face softens, and whatever worry she had before is chased off. “Sounds good. And no, I‘m not using my safe word.“
“Good. “I flip the steak onto the plate. “Come over here and eat some food.“
She peels herself away from the glass doors to come over and set the table. I point out the silverware drawer and we settle in to eat.
“What kind of makeover are we talking about?“ I ask, curious about her work and what brought her to Pine Falls.
“I‘m not sure. “She rubs her lips together. “Originally, I thought we‘d cut your hair and shave your beard, but now I don’t know if that is the best decision.” A hint of pink appears on her cheeks.
I stroke my heavy beard and look at her knowingly. She blushes even harder and reapplies herself to the meal. She liked my scruff rubbing against the tender skin between her legs. Liked it so much that she’s thinking it would be a crime to shave me. That means she’s thinking about having my face lapping at her pussy even after the makeover.
That’s good. Real good. I take a moment to admire her wolf appetite. She’s got half the sixteen ounce T-bone in her belly.
“You like venison?” I ask abruptly. The few wolves I know enjoy a gamey meat.
“Who doesn’t?” she asks between bites.
Yeah, I’ll have to stock some. “Cage Armstrong hunts a lot of game. We can get some from him.”
“We?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply firmly. I shove my chair back away from the table. “Now it’s time for dessert. Come over here.” I pat my knee.
She leisurely forks another piece of steak into her mouth and then takes a huge, long gulp of water. I snort inwardly. This girl likes being spanked because those are bratty sub actions if I’ve ever seen them. I inject more authority into my tone.
“Maddie. Get your sweet ass over here,” I order.
She wipes her mouth with the napkin and then rises and strolls over to me as if I didn’t just give her a direct order. I don’t even wait for her to bend herself over my knees. Eli, the de facto head of the shifters in Pine Falls, is a Dom and he would tell us that in a new relationship, subs are constantly testing the boundaries to see if you, the Dom, care enough about them to keep them in line.
Maddie’s tiny acts of defiance don’t really bother me, but in this context, particularly because she thinks we’re still scening, she’s testing to see if I’m going to follow through. If I’m Dom enough for her.
In one swift motion, my plate, glass, and silverware are swept onto the floor where the pottery shatters on impact. I place a firm hand between her shoulder blades and shackle her wrists behind her back.
She yelps in protest. “What are you doing?”
“You waited too long and now you’re being punished.” I hardly have to pull up the T-shirt at all to bare her round, perky ass. “Your ass will look so much better with my handprint on it.”
I spank her on the underside of one cheek and watch with satisfaction as it bounces from the blow. “In this house, you’re mine and you’ll do what I say, hear me?”
I swat her again, this time on the other cheek. I can hear her panting lightly. I don’t have a doubt in the world that if I shoved my fingers between her legs, she’d be soaked. She’s so fucking responsive it makes me weak-kneed.
“You hear me?” I repe
at with another blow.
“Yes, I hear you.” She moans with delight when I spank her again, this time low enough to ‘accidentally’ graze her pussy lips.
“This one is for trying to run off earlier.”
“I told you I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
I give her two additional smacks on the tops of her cheeks. She’s turning rosy red. “I’ll tell you when I’m tired of you.”
“Oh, I bet you will.”
My hand hangs in midair. “What the hell does that mean?”
I pull her upright. Now’s not the time to be shoving my fingers up her cunt, no matter how badly I want my dessert. She’s got something on her mind, and I need to hear it.
She’s flushed, but I’m not sure if it’s from anger or arousal. She brushes a shaky hand across her forehead. “I mean that I’m not going to wait around until anyone gets tired of me.”
7
Maddie
His big brows wrinkle as he gazes at me. “You wanna explain that to me?”
“No.” I really don’t. I’m still smarting from the last guy pushing me aside. That he was my alpha just made things uglier. That he’d wanted me to crawl into bed with him and his new woman? An entirely new layer of ugly.
“Let me put it this way, Maddie.” He leans in, that glorious beard making me shiver with anticipation again. “I’m not asking you to tell me what you mean. I’m telling you that you need to spit it out.”
I lick my lips, nervous and stiff. I notice his roaming hands are no longer roaming, and I suspect that will continue until I speak up and tell him all about how my last alpha rejected me.
Fuck that. I straighten and tug the shirt down a little. “Albuquerque.”
Chance growls, but he backs off. “Fine. You want me to take you home, then?”
I nod stiffly. This man’s pressing too hard, and I feel the need to retreat and process for a bit. He’s hitting me with too much, too soon. This was supposed to just be a fling to scratch an itch and get him a makeover. I don’t want feelings involved.
“Fine,” Chance says, and his voice is flat. I get the impression I’ve disappointed him. “I’ll take you back home.”
“Thank you.” My voice is small, and I fight against the urge to please him, to show belly and throat and beg for attention the way a subservient wolf does. It’s difficult, but I remind myself that I belong to no one anymore. I’m a lone wolf, and it’ll be better in the long run.
* * *
“Sooo,” Adelaide says at work the next day, refilling the jug of lemon-and-cucumber water we keep for clients. “You and Chance, huh?”
She’s about as subtle as a spraying skunk. She’s been hovering all day, just dying to gossip about things, but I haven’t exactly been offering up information. I think it’s driving her crazy, because she keeps finding reasons to show up on my end of the salon.
“It’s not what you think, really. It’s a wolf thing to have casual hookups.” That’s a lie, but maybe that’ll get her away from me, because I don’t feel like talking about Chance. I’m unsettled about the man, mostly because he seemed to know me far too well. It should have been just a freewheeling round of sex, but I kept getting the feeling he wanted more.
And I’m fragile about that sort of thing. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl, and I’m not good at casual. I’m good at being owned. From what I’ve seen of Chance, he’s not into relationships. So if he wants a regular sex partner? He’s just going to have to look elsewhere. I can’t be with someone and not get mentally involved. The wolf in me craves the alpha’s command. I’ll become too much for someone too fast, and I don’t know if I can take a second rejection.
Better to be solo. Lonely hurts far less than rejection.
“But…” Adelaide hesitates. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with hooking up with a guy for fun. More power to you. But…Chance Eddington? He’s so hairy.”
I shiver at the thought. Yeah, he was. He was bearded and rough and had big hands that held me like I was the daintiest thing ever, and I get turned on just thinking about them. “He’s coming in for a makeover at some point,” I tell her. “He just needs some trimming.”
“Are you going to see him again?” Adelaide asks.
I shake my head and pull a few combs out of the sterilizing solution. “I don’t think so.”
The salon door chimes, saving me from more questioning. Adelaide looks disappointed and hurries away to greet her new client. I turn back to my workstation, straightening pomades and glosses. I really want Adelaide to leave me alone, but she’s my new boss so I can’t exactly tell her to go away. Her curiosity is picking at a fresh wound, though, and the wolf in me is feeling the need to escape again.
I can’t escape Pine Falls, though. I just got here.
“Hey, Maddie?” Adelaide’s voice is faint, even though she’s just two rooms over. “Could you come here, please?”
I set down a bottle of hairspray and head in. Has one of my appointments come in early? I don’t mind shuffling my schedule but—
What I see in the main foyer of the spa stops me in my tracks. It’s Chance. He looks good enough to eat, his shaggy hair falling around his face and that big scratchy beard making me think dirty thoughts. He’s wearing a big blue plaid shirt and jeans, and his boots are muddy. That’s not what makes me stop, though. There’s a dead deer with him on the floor at his feet.
Poor Adelaide looks as if she’s about to faint. I step forward and give her a gentle shove toward the reception desk, where there’s a stool. “Can I help you?” I ask Chance.
He tilts that big whiskered chin at the deer. “Brought you some venison. You said you liked it.”
Oh. So I did. I lick my lips and stare at the dead deer on the floor. It looks obscenely out of place in the chi-chi spa. “It’s a kind offer, but I don’t have a way of dressing it, I’m afraid.”
He grunts. “I’ll dress it for you then.” Just like that, he hefts it back up, slinging the tied legs over one massive shoulder, and leaves.
I look at Adelaide, who’s gaping at the now-empty door. I hear a heavy thump in the bed of Chance’s truck, and then he drives off.
“What on earth do you suppose that was about?” Adelaide whispers.
I bite my lip. “I told him I like venison.” I mean, his fingers were in my pussy at the moment and I’d have probably told him I liked anything, but it’s kind of…sweet.
Adelaide’s hands flutter girlishly. “Can you smell it?”
“Just light a candle,” I tell her. “Maybe vanilla.” I go to the supply closet to get the mop out. Chance left a lot of tracks in the doorway, and I suspect Adelaide’s not going to be up to cleaning after him. When I come back, she’s lit a candle, is drinking a tall glass of lemon water, and looks relieved that I’ve gotten the mop and bucket. Lord, she’s a fragile thing for a woman mated to a were-bear. I guess her honey never brings her ‘treats’.
And then my cheeks flush. Is this what this is?
* * *
It’s near the end of the work day and I’m sweeping up cuttings around my chair when Chance returns to the spa. I look up and he’s standing in my doorway, in a new shirt, and he smells like fresh soap, like he just got out of the shower. It makes my mouth water, and not for venison.
“You want the antlers?”
“No.”
“Hide?”
“No.”
He grunts and then jerks his head toward the parking lot. “Got a cooler full for you. Cut and ready to go.”
I blink at him. So he brought me a deer, and when I said I didn’t have any place for it, he went home and butchered it for me? That’s a determined man. Determined…for something I don’t want to give. I steel my resolve and gesture at my salon chair. “You ready for that makeover, then?”
I expect him to balk, but Chance just heads to my chair and thumps into it, big legs sprawling in front of him. I know he’s a were-bear and they’re made big, but even so, he dominates the tiny salon r
oom. When I hesitate, he gestures at his face. “Go ahead. Do whatever you want.”
“That’s a lot of trust,” I tease him, pulling a cape off a hook and then tucking it around his shoulders. “You sure you want to go there?”
“We made a deal,” he points out. His gaze is locked on me like I’m his prey.
Oh. So we did. Sex for a makeover. I guess I’d better pull my end. I swallow hard, full of conflicting emotions at the reminder that it wasn’t me he wanted, just sex. Maybe all these stupid, weird feelings I’m having are just me being silly.
I skip shampooing him—too intimate!—and spritz his hair to wet it down instead. It’s thick and lustrous despite the shaggy length, and I feel conflicted about cutting it. I play with it for a few minutes, running my hands through his hair and trying to decide how I want him to look.
He shifts in the seat uncomfortably, and as I glance in the mirror, his jaw clenches. “You gonna just fuck with my hair all day or you gonna actually cut it?” Chance’s tone is sour, and I’m taken aback. Then I glance down and see the hard-on tenting the front of the cape. Oh.
“I’m just deciding what I want to do to you,” I say, and there’s a husky note in my voice that I shouldn’t let creep in, but I do. I lean forward to grab a comb and make sure my breasts brush against him as I do. Then I begin to cut.
I cut long hanks of hair off the sides, then shave it a little at the back of the neck. I leave it longer on top and add a bit of product to hold it in place. The end result is a sexy, bold swoop of hair that looks breathtaking on him and takes his appearance from ‘hobo mountain man’ to ‘utterly delicious lumberjack’. I trim his beard just a little and then add a bit of beard oil to make it softer and shinier. He smells wonderful by the time I’m done, and he looks perfectly edible. God, he’s hot. I resist the urge to possessively drag my fingers through his hair one last time. “All done.”
He peers in the mirror at the finished product and then grunts, touching his hair. “Ain’t gonna look like this when I do it.”
