Bad Boys and Billionaires (The Naughty List Bundles)

by Synthia St. Claire

  And then another rustling sound caught my attention, but that time when I turned, two pale yellow eyes that seemed to materialize from nowhere pierced my very soul.

  “What... what are you?” I reached out my hand with open, shaking fingers.

  His fur slid between them, copper, then black, then silver as the sun struck his back, he turned slowly and pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. I jerked my hand away, terrified at his sudden aggression, and he did the same. Again his lips pulled away from terrible, finger-long teeth, but I didn’t feel fear that time like I had when he did the same thing a moment before.

  “May I?” I reached out again, but tentatively kept my groping fingers a few inches form his fur.

  The beast lay down and cocked his head.

  What am I doing? There’s a wolf... staring at me, and I’m asking his permission to have a feel? What’s going on?

  Another snapshot of my dream rolled through my mind at just that moment. It was just one word, mate that came to me, and I didn’t know why. Not right then, anyway.

  He let out a soft whimpering sound and tilted his head in the other direction. I don’t know why, but it seemed like he was giving me permission. I reached out again, my trembling fingers warmed by his flame-and-copper fur. Through my fingers, it almost burned with warmth. I curled them, scratching him gently, and then flattened my palm against his back.

  Pure, hard, muscle.

  “They travel as far as they have to go to find their soul mates, or whatever you want to call them.” Soul mates rolled around in my head and I felt a quick swoon before I braced myself on the monster’s back and he stood to support my weight.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “This isn’t possible. You can’t exist, you can’t be real.” My lips started to quiver just like my fingers had moments before. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that the wolf – the unearthly large, powerful wolf – under my sweaty palm wasn’t real, there he was, staring at me with those big, pale, soulful eyes. “Grandpa said... he couldn’t possibly have known about you. He was just making up a story.”

  The wolf, standing then, with his head almost the same height as my shoulders, groaned and then nipped softly at my hand a couple of times. I giggled, moving my hand just at the last second, and stroked his snout.

  “You’re not supposed to be this big,” I said. “Something’s not right here...”

  That’s when I first had the chance to look straight into his eyes. Mesmerized for a second, when I came back to myself, I saw that they weren’t really anything like I’d witnessed. Up close, there were flecks of black, gold, and brown in the yellow discs of his irises. I’d seen wolves before in zoos plenty of times, so I knew they had weird eyes, but these were... different. Like flames that sparkled in the sun.

  I drew closer, bending my head just to his level. The scent that wafted off his fur – the smell of dust and raw, animal musk – along with the tensing, flexing muscles of his legs and shoulders were just too much. It was all too much, too unreal.

  He pulled away, dragging my open palm along his heavy fur, and took two steps further up the path. I followed, and when I was nearing, he took three more.

  “What is it?” I asked aloud. “Do you want me to follow? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  At the end of a short sprint of not more than ten or fifteen yards, the wolf looked back at me and let out a short burst of sound, not a bark, not really. It sounded like a mixture of a grunt and a howl and even a little bit like a word, like when someone coughs and says ‘hey!’ at the same time.

  I trotted along after him, oblivious to the surrounding world. Another vision I had the night before came to me then. I remembered feeling the monster in my dreams, and how at the moment of his climax, his fur shrank away revealing a hard, muscled body, more man than wolf.

  Up, up, up we went. Sweat ran down my chest, wetting my white undershirt and making it stick.

  There was nothing at all in the entire world except for me, and the unnaturally large wolf that I followed up the hill. He’d run, look back and pause, wait for me to follow him and get almost close enough to touch before darting away again and starting all over.

  On and on until half the bluff was underneath us. Always going up, though sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but always up.

  Until he stopped.

  Turning to face me slowly, the great wolf stared at me, driving holes through me with his gaze.

  “What is it?” I asked as I trotted to a stop only a few feet from him. “Is something the matter?”

  His answer was another cock of his head, followed by a groaning howl that chilled me to the bones. The sound bashing my ears was so loud, so powerful that I could hardly stand it. That is, until the pain in my ears turned to warmth in my belly that trickled down further and further.

  “What are you doing to me?” I said in a breathy whisper. “How are you making me feel like... no,” I said. “This can’t be real. This isn’t possible. No, no, no!”

  Slowly, patiently, almost like he was waiting for me to come to my own conclusion about him, the wolf padded next to me and lowered his head, nudging my hand and nipping again. My fingers trickled down in front of his mouth and danced across those long, sharp teeth.

  I was stunned. I couldn’t move, could barely think. I knew I needed to get away, but at the same time, I didn’t want to get away. Words like prophesy and destiny and soul mate swam in my head. Suddenly, my hand was back on the beast’s neck. I curled my fingers and somehow, the fur felt shorter than it had the last time I touched.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “You’re changing, you’re...” A handful of flaming copper came off in my hand, but when I went to drop it, instead of blowing out of my palm, it vanished as soon as the long, thick hairs tasted wind. “What are you?”

  “Po... ko... spoke...”

  My eyes got so wide I thought they’d fall out. “Did you just answer me?”

  “Can’t... speak... too painful,” he gasped, jaws clenching and relaxing with each word. “Need... you...”

  “Me?” I touched him again, pulling away another handful of vanishing fur. With a start, I felt the taut muscles on his neck grow harder, thicker, bigger and fuller underneath my palm.

  I was absolutely burning by then. That sweet ache between my legs that flared every time I remembered more of my dream was deep seated, twisting and wrenching me, sending fingers of warm pleasure from my core to every inch of my body. When next I felt him, I ran my hand from his shoulder down to his chest.

  “Not... long...” he groaned. “Can’t... control... Augh! No! Trying to fight! I can’t!”

  He threw his head back and forth, thrashing out of control so hard I thought he’d break his own neck. Snarls ripped through him, followed by yelps and pained groaning. He fell to his side, twisted in one direction then the other.

  “Must... take! Must take... you!”

  There it was. The one word I’d forgotten from the dream. The most important word. Really, it was the only one that mattered at all.

  Every shred of sense in me said to run, to turn around and bolt and never look back.

  “Go!” he urged. “I’ll come... for... you when I,” he paused, gasped breaths rattling his chest. “I’ll come when... I can... control...”

  And then, an instant later, he was back to his feet, shoulders clenched up. He was the embodiment of rage, of fury, every inch of him twitching as he tried to control whatever was welling up inside.

  “Go!” he roared, startling me out of the lull into which I’d fallen. “Go and don’t... look back... mate!”

  The wolf lurched again, sat down then stretched his back. He opened his jaws, snapped them shut.

  Through all of it, I couldn’t force myself to turn away. My dream came back in a burst of memory. The disjointed scenes played out immediately in my mind. I watched him for a second longer, then recalled the last moment of the dream; his body trembling against mine. Was this the same? The s
ame half-wolf monster? Was this... no, it couldn’t be Damon. That, I decided out of all the things happening, that was where it just went too crazy.

  “You’re my,” I swallowed. “You came for me, didn’t you?” I reached out again and he snapped then recoiled. This time though, I didn’t retreat. I knew, somehow I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me, even if he couldn’t control himself.

  It wasn’t pain he wanted to inflict upon me, not at all.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  The monster writhed around, his legs thickening with every passing second, the fur on them thinning, falling out, and vanishing before my eyes.

  “You came for me.” My voice was almost accusing. “You visited my dreams last night and made me come out here. And now you tell me to run? No,” I said. “I won’t do it.”

  My words were strong and sure, but my knees were just about hitting together they were shaking so hard.

  “If I’m to be your mate, at least tell me your name,” I said. Talking, somehow, was keeping me from giving completely in to fear. Or was it fear? I shook my head. It wasn’t fear I felt, no, not at all.

  I felt lust burning in my stomach, twisting me in knots. I wanted the creature before me, with the mighty muscles and wild, furious strength so badly it hurt.

  He punched the ground with slightly clenched paws, scratching his claws into the hardscrabble dirt. “My name...,” he gave in to another fit of clawing and snorting before he managed to focus. “No, can’t say... can’t remember.” There was a hint of sadness behind the fury in his voice.

  But I knew that if what grandpa said was true, and at that point, it seemed to me that anything might be true, he wasn’t stuck in this form, not forever. I took another halting step forward and reached out a hand.

  Clawing and sputtering, the man-beast pulled back and shook with rage.

  He charged, and the instant before he took me off my feet, I felt his teeth close around my wrist, stopping just short of breaking my skin, but clamped down so that I wasn’t going to escape even if I wanted.

  I pulled, almost like I was wrestling with a friend. The look in his eyes was desperate when he let go of me and I fell backwards, thumping against the ground, hard. I grunted, and at the sound, the beast recoiled, once again looking very afraid, almost pitiful.

  “N... no, Lily, no, please go.” He said. There was almost a whimper in his voice as he pleaded with me to leave. “This... isn’t right, isn’t...”

  He twisted left and then right, fell into a sticker bush, and fell on his side after a brief tussle to get free. A bit of blood spotted his half-gone fur, and I rushed to his side, tearing off a piece of my shirt to wipe his cuts. He turned to face me, with a pleading, thankful look in his eyes.

  His eyes, they’re...

  I stood up quickly, amazed at what I’d seen. Green, with little gray flecks running from his pupils to the edge of his irises, just like... “Damon?” I said with a hitch in my throat. “Is that... is that you?”

  Bending over I dabbed at his wound again and sat down on my knees. “If it is you, everything’s okay, I just,” my voice trailed off. “Wow, this is—”

  “Me...” he groaned and twisted, climbing first to his knees, then to his feet. “I’m... no, Lily, I can’t do this to you. You have... a life... not this... I...”

  “No! Damon!” I shouted after him, my hand falling off his shoulder, a piece of my shirt stuck to the bloody cut on his back. “Don’t run! I can’t have you right here then have you gone, not again! You have to stop doing this to me!”

  Again? Did I just say that?

  He jumped, straight off the side of the bluff.

  “No!” I shouted again, running to the side where he’d leapt. Steeling myself for the worst, when I peered over, there was nothing below, no broken body, no injured Damon limping off, he was just gone. “Where did you go? Why?”

  I sucked a breath, pulling my shoulders to my ears and then slumped over, suddenly exhausted. “You came here... for me?”

  None of it made any sense. This roving pack of wolves that I remembered appearing three times through my whole life, and Damon was one of them?

  No, I just can’t believe it. Just can’t do it. There’s no way.

  I laughed softly. What else could I do? Werewolves? Half-human monsters? Even with all the stories Grandpa told me, I hadn’t believed any of that stuff. Not really.

  Looking down, though, Damon’s blood was on my fingertips where I’d dabbed him with my shirt. A chill shot through me when a desert wind hit my exposed skin. Hot day, cold skin. I shivered again, holding my elbows.

  Up above, a small airplane buzzed past, a puffy fuel trail in its wake. I was just thankful for the brief respite from being lost in my own head. The reflective silver sped across my field of vision, before disappearing behind a bluff.

  Eight

  I hadn’t seen Damon for almost a week. Even stranger, all those admittedly – though embarrassingly – eager and exciting dreams stopped too.

  Somehow I just put it all out of my mind. I needed to get something done with my story for the Times and I still needed to deal with Caitlyn Hodges, who was calling and texting me more than she had in the ten years we’d known each other. She got a little nuttier every time, but she never showed up again.

  Grandpa kept saying she was going crazy from the stress of school and everything else, and that made a certain amount of sense. After seeing Damon though, I had my doubts that he and Devin had just had a little scuffle.

  Fucking trauma.

  Every single time, it does this to me.

  When my parents died all those years ago, it was like I convinced myself that life was totally normal a week after they were gone. I don’t think I ever really dealt with it. I didn’t have any time.

  I started that year, fourth grade, without missing a beat. I had to get good grades, keep on top of the class, and on and on. Of course, then I got over my denial in a pretty massive way when my sophomore year started.

  I unloaded on Damon like they died a week before we met. I couldn’t stop myself. It just came in a torrent of tears, crying and screaming that lasted most of a month. When it was all over, my ambition, my drive, and my grades stopped mattering at all.

  Just quit giving a shit. Just gave up on it. Well, on everything except my newspaper stuff, but everyone with any sense will tell you that’s not going to pay the bills. I guess I couldn’t see any real way out of Fort Branch, so it didn’t make any sense to me to keep killing myself. I’d never be able to afford Harvard, and I wasn’t going to get a scholarship like Caitlyn, so why even try at all?

  Dumb way to think, I guess, but try telling that to a boy-crazy thirteen year old girl.

  Crazy for boys but too shy to do anything about it, that’s me. Until Damon came along, anyway, there was a ten-foot wall around me.

  With him it was different though, it was from the very start. He came from the desert in California, some little town in So-Cal a hundred miles or so from LA, and changed my whole world the first time I saw him. It was stupid, really, but whatever. From the very beginning, I felt like we were connected, like we understood each other.

  I never much felt like I belonged in Fort Branch, and since he was literally the only person who moved in to town through my entire school career, we were two lost souls that found each other.

  And then, of course, he never did anything. He was so achingly slow that even in the worst of my throes, he seemed to either not want me, or just not understand that I was hurling myself at him.

  “Ugh,” I moaned, pushing myself up off the bed and stared out the window for a moment as I sniffed the air. The smell of eggs, bacon, and grandpa’s pancake mix floated up the stairs and under my door.

  I tried to dress as fast as humanly possible. I needed some of those eggs.

  At the exact instant I buttoned my jeans, there went my phone, buzzing so hard against the random coins and junk underneath it that I just about hit the floor and let out a �
��Jesus!” and bounced off the bed.

  I rolled to the side and grabbed by phone off my nightstand in a move that would have made a ninja proud. I laughed at my own deftness, forgetting about the fact that it only happened because I almost broke my ass, when the phone buzzed again.

  Guess I have to answer someday.

  “Lily?” It was Caitlyn, but she sounded a lot less, uh, irritated than I was used to her sounding. “Are you there?”

  Her voice was thick, like she either had a cold, or was crying.

  “Lily? Please answer, please, I just,” she let out a choked gulp, and then a sob.

  It took every fiber of effort I could muster not to say something really cruel. I was just so sick of her constant texts.

  I swallowed both my pride, and a gulp of water to get the morning frog out of my throat. “Yeah, sorry, allergies. What’s going on?”

  “I know,” she stopped every few seconds to let out another sobbing burst. “I – I know it’s early and I,” another sniff and a cough. She had it bad, whatever it was. “I’m so, so sorry, but can you... I don’t even know why I’m asking, I—”

  “Slow down Cat, I can barely understand you,” I said in the calmest voice I could muster. “If there’s an emergency call the police.”

  Great line, perfect advice, I’m sure she never thought of that. It was the best thing I could think to say at the time though.

  “No,” she pressed on, fighting through the tears, “it’s nothing like that, it’s Devin, he...”

  “Is he hurt?”

  Another wave of crying wracked Caitlyn then she sniffed and caught her breath for a moment. “Yes but that’s not what I’m calling for.” Cat took a long, slow breath, in and out. “He came back and he’s hurt but it’s just cuts and scrapes. Lily, he’s,” she trailed off again.

  I knew what she was about to say before she talked. An uncomfortable, nauseous wave of deja vu passed through me while she took another calming breath.