Racing The Beast (Dirt Track Dogs #2)

by P. Jameson

  In a swift move, he jerked the cups of her bra down, revealing soft flesh with pert pink tips.

  He got unbelievably harder, giving his jeans the biggest fuck-you he could muster.

  Burying his face against her neck, he focused on their breathing to calm down. Damn, she was beautiful.

  “I have to tell you something,” Punk rushed out. “It’s important.”

  “Mmm ‘kay.” His lips wouldn’t quit nipping at her jaw. He fucking loved this part of her… this and the spot just under her ear. “What is it?”

  “Beast, please. Listen.”

  “I’m listening,” he said, moving lower to the breasts he’d exposed. He kissed the soft mounds one at a time, eliciting a deep tortured moan from his mate. The sound was perfect. Low and sweet and exactly what he wanted to hear from her.

  With his nose, he circled the tip of her hardened nipple, watching proudly as her chest expanded and contracted with her pleasured gasps. Then he sucked the hard bud between his lips.

  “Wait!” She pushed against his chest and he released her, but before he could comfort her, she cried, “I was raped.”

  Beast froze with his mouth inches from her breast. Nothing in his body wanted to work. His breath quit coming. His mouth was fossilized. His brain, blank as an unwritten story. His heart needed a fucking defibrillator to restart.

  Somehow he managed to lift his head to look at her. “What the fuck did you say?”

  Her answer was a whisper that felt like a punch straight to his gut. “I was raped. Years ago, but I needed you to know before…”

  His fury was like ice traveling through his veins, gritty and grinding and all out of place. Frozen shards cutting him from the inside.

  Beast pushed off her, putting space between them. Had she been trying to warn him? Did she say stop? Had he ignored her in his lust?

  Oh shit, oh shit.

  He looked at Punk’s partially exposed body. He hadn’t hurt her. Couldn’t leave anything to chance. He found his t-shirt and tossed it to her.

  She frowned, catching it. “What is this?”

  “Put it on,” he snapped. “Now.”

  Something flashed in her eyes, but all he could see was his hands wrapping around the throat of her attacker.

  Someone… some motherfucker had taken what was his? Taken advantage of his mate? Forced her to give when she hadn’t wanted to? Hurt her in the worst possible way?

  He’d kill the fucker. Kill him so hard. Rip him into shreds so small no one would ever find him. He’d grind his bones to powder, spread those fuckers on the dirt track and race them straight to hell. Every lap of the oval would be his revenge for what was done to his woman. The bastard would be the mud on his tires.

  Beast paced the length of the garage, wrestling his wolf and fucking losing. It had been too long since he’d shifted. And too long since he’d been this angry. Had he ever been this angry?

  He couldn’t hold his animal back. Mate was wronged. Hurt. Humiliated. It was unbearable. The sound of danger filled the room. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head.

  Keep it together. Keep it in.

  “Punk baby,” he gritted through his teeth—teeth that were turning to fangs. This was it. He was going to fuck this up beyond repair. “Get out.”

  A piece of him died, eaten alive by his rage.

  But then wolf took over and there was only instinct and fury and fight.

  Chapter Eight

  Get out! The words lashed Punk. The pain was physical, drawing an embarrassing whimper from her. Her eyes welled with tears.

  Shit.

  She yanked his shirt over her head.

  She hadn’t expected Beast to like what she had to say, but he’d done such a fantastic job convincing her that he cared for her. His complete and utter rejection was a knife in her fucking back.

  She was so sure he’d understand that the past was the past. Whatever this was between them over the last few days, felt substantial. It felt real and completely necessary. Like oxygen in her blood. She’d wanted to be up front with him. Something that special deserved pure honesty.

  It wasn’t easy to say those words out loud. Vocalizing it, even a decade later, was hell, but she’d done it for him. For them. For whatever connection they had that she’d been unable to deny.

  But he’d taken her admission and spat on it.

  She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. And worst of all, she couldn’t leave. Her motherfucking crutches were left in the shop when Beast caveman-carried her in here.

  Dashing her tears away, she decided she’d hop out of there on one goddamn leg if she had to.

  Beast made an awful noise that sounded purely animalistic. She stared at him, watching as he shook like he was having some kind of seizure.

  Suddenly, her hurt feelings didn’t seem so important. Fuck, something was wrong with him. His body jerked in an unnatural way that made her blood run cold.

  Punk screamed for help, hoping like hell someone was close enough to hear her. How would she get to her phone? Shit.

  “Beast? What’s happening? Help!” she yelled again.

  She tried to stand, but he let out a terrible shriek and between one blink and the next, he’d transformed into something incredible. Something… unbelievable.

  Where an angry man once stood, there was now a ferocious wolf that would easily reach her waist if she was standing.

  Punk gaped, unable to catch her breath.

  He stood tensed to attack, all power and muscle underneath pale gray fur tipped with black. He snarled at her, his lips pulling back to reveal razor sharp teeth. He was beautiful. He was terrifying.

  She blinked over and over hoping to clear whatever hallucination this was. Fucking hell, what was happening?

  The door to the garage flew open and Diz skidded to a stop, taking in the scene. “Oh… fuck.”

  The wolf—Beast—roared, shaking with rage. Chills raced up and down Punk’s spine at the sound. Beast was dangerous. He could kill them.

  There’s a wolf under all this sheep’s clothing.

  He’d warned her before. But how? How was this possible?

  “Punk,” Diz said, keeping his tone low. “You need to leave. Now.”

  “I-I-I can’t. I don’t have my crutches.”

  “Shit,” he hissed as the rumbling from Beast grew louder. It filled the small space, vibrating her chest.

  Drake pulled up behind Diz. “Motherfucker,” he muttered. “Ella, stay in the shop.”

  Ella. Oh, no. They were all in so much danger. But she’d lose it if anything happened to Ella.

  Drake pushed past Diz, his hands in the air. “Beast, you have to calm down. You hear me? You don’t want to do anything stupid in front of your mate.”

  Beast roared so loud her hands flew to cover her ears.

  “Knock it off,” Drake roared back at the animal. “You’re scaring her, asshole.”

  The wolf’s growl faded to a low rumble, but he still shook like he was going to rattle to pieces.

  “I swear to fuck, if you make me change just to take you down, you’ll pay for it. Get your shit together. That’s an order.”

  Tears streamed down Punk’s face. This was a dream. A bad fucking dream. Wake up, wake up!

  “Drake,” Ella called from the doorway where Diz was blocking her.

  “Stay back, baby,” Drake said in a softer voice.

  “No, listen. Use Punk. He’ll calm down for her, I know it. Like you would for me.”

  “Sweetie, he’s in a rage. He’ll have my balls for putting her in danger.”

  “But not if she settles him first. She can do this.” Ella turned her determined gaze on her. “You can do this Punk.”

  “Do what? What am I supposed to do? He’s a fucking wolf!” God, her voice was shrill and panicked. She never panicked. Not where people could see at least. Not on the outside.

  Ella glared at her over Diz’s shoulder. “Do not make me come in there and bitch-slap you. Yes
, he’s a wolf. He’s also a man. He’s a shifter. A werewolf. We all are. I just didn’t have a chance to tell you yet.”

  “You what? You had every fucking chance, Ella.” Punk shook her head. “This can’t be real.”

  “Punk, you’re the toughest woman I know. Don’t fall apart now. You’re his mate, and he needs you. Be there for him.”

  His mate? What the fuck did that even mean?

  “There will be time for explanations later, okay. Please,” Ella begged. “Help him.” Her voice cracked in concern for Beast.

  Shit. She wasn’t worried at all that he might bite Punk’s head off. It fucking hurt. Ella was one of her best friends. She’d never ask her to look a ferocious animal in the eye and talk him down.

  Punk straightened her shoulders and brushed the damn tears from her cheeks. Fine. She could do this. She could be a fucking dog whisperer. If she survived this fucked up piece of reality, she’d get the hell out of here and never look back.

  She sank to her knees slowly, carefully. Her cast scratched against the cement floor as she inched her way closer to the growling wolf. His eyes, which had been angrily lasered on Drake and Diz, fell to her and his growl cut off on a whimper.

  He pranced nervously in front of her, mixing snarls with whimpers, clearly confused.

  “Can he hear me?” Punk asked.

  “Yes,” Drake answered. “But he’s driven by animal instinct right now. He won’t be thinking the same way he would as a human.”

  She nodded, scooting closer. Animal, think like an animal. How would she act if she was trying to settle a stray?

  “Beast? Is that you?”

  He whined in response. She eased her hand forward so he could smell her. Would he recognize her scent? Would that be enough?

  “I need you to turn back into a man.”

  He came forward a step only to go back two.

  This had all spawned from her telling him about her attack. Maybe this ‘roid rage shit was a worse version of what happened in his truck the day he’d picked her up from the hospital.

  I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you.

  “Hey. Look at me, okay? Can you do that?”

  His animal eyes locked on hers. They were tortured and sad. Hers must be the mirror image. Poor Beast. Whatever pain she was feeling, he was clearly feeling it too.

  “Remember when you drove me from the hospital?” she murmured, keeping her voice soft. “I told you a man had hurt me. Do you remember?”

  A growl split the air making her flinch.

  Drake took a step forward but Ella pushed past Diz and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

  “You remember,” Punk whispered. “Well, remember I told you he was dead? Long dead.”

  She was close enough to touch him now, and even though he was growling and still scary as hell, part of her wanted to pet him. To run her fingers through his fur. It would soothe her. The same way petting Shark soothed her. If they could connect in some way, maybe he could calm down enough to shift back.

  “That man…”

  Her hand connected with his soft, soft fur and all the tension left him. He crouched low, his nose to the ground, using his front paws to crawl closer. His sad eyes pleaded with her, and somehow, she could see him. The real him. Beast. He was really in there.

  Running her hand over his head, she lowered herself until she was right next to his ear. No one needed to hear this but him.

  “That is the man who raped me. And he’s long gone. Now come back to me, asshole, so we can talk about how you screwed up a really good thing by making me feel like I had something to be ashamed of.”

  The air shifted and he changed so fast she barely had time to gasp. The fur was gone, but the angry snarl was not. Beast crouched on the floor next to her, and other than being stark naked, there was no sign he’d been an animal seconds earlier. He breathed heavily, still shaking with fury.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing, do you hear me?” He grabbed her chin in one hand, roughly bringing her lips to his for a kiss. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. I just need to calm down first. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Beast stared up at the others. “Wolf’s out of the bag,” he muttered. “Leave us.”

  “Like hell,” Ella roared, marching around Drake to shove Beast as he was trying to stand. “You son of a bitch. You could’ve hurt her. You could’ve—”

  “Ella,” Drake warned, yanking her backward.

  “I swear to god, Beast, if you hurt her I’ll have your hide.” Drake pulled her, backing out of the room, but she never stopped. “Your hide, Beast. I’ll taxidermy your ass and hang you on my fucking living room wall, I swear it. Let me go!”

  The door to the shop slammed closed and her voice cut off.

  “Shit,” Beast muttered, shaking his head.

  Diz disappeared and returned with Punk’s crutches. He set them against the car and then left without a word.

  Punk’s heart was pounding against her ribs. They’d left her alone with a man she could never hope to best. Not since he was both man and beast. She’d trained to protect herself, even against a male twice her size. But what about one that could turn into a an animal?

  And he wasn’t the only one. She’d been living among them for a week. And Ella… Ella was one too?

  She’d walked right out of the hospital and into her worst nightmare.

  A sob ripped from her throat and she wished she could stuff it back in. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be that person who’d taken down Surge with a cast on her leg. She wanted to believe she was safe in the world as long as she had her self-defense skills and her badass attitude.

  But the truth was she wasn’t that person anymore. Everything changed when that damn fence came down on top of her, setting into motion a chain of events that left her feeling like she was standing at the greatest crossroads of her life.

  “Baby.” Beast’s voice was ragged. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re a wolf.”

  “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

  “No shit.” She crossed her arms over her chest, sitting back on her butt to give her knees a break.

  “I wanted to take things slow. Follow your lead. When things were comfortable, then I was going to tell you that I—”

  “That you were a monster.”

  “I’m no monster, Punk,” he said sadly.

  “Right. I guess you almost chewed our friends up because you’re an angel then.”

  He shook his head, resting his forearm on his knee. This was the most uncomfortable conversation to have while he was naked. She wished there was a pair of pants for him to put on, but they’d been eviscerated during his transformation.

  “I lost my temper. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been this angry. But I didn’t hurt anyone. Wouldn’t have either. The only person I wanted to hurt was the bastard who harmed you.”

  She shook her head. “You did hurt me though.”

  His eyes widened with actual fear. “Where? I can heal it. I’ll make it better. The mating bond allows us to heal faster, and it works for our mates too. Show me.”

  Tears trailed down her cheeks, but she dashed them away.

  “You can’t,” she cried, putting her hand to her chest. “It’s in here.”

  “No,” he breathed. “No, baby.”

  “I told you something I’ve never told anyone before. Not even Annie. I wanted to have this… this… relationship with you. You made me want to be with a man again. But then when I gave you the real me, you pushed me away. You covered me up. You couldn’t even look at me. You made me feel like he’d ruined me.” Her voice rose with each word. “Ten years. Ten fucking years, I’ve spent working through what that fucker did to me. Ten years of convincing myself he didn’t destroy me and you undid it in a matter of minutes.”

  “No,” Beast said, totally rejecting her accusation. “Fucking no. Let me tell you what really happened.”

  He crawled c
loser to her, putting his face inches from hers. His body still vibrated with emotion and she wanted to touch him. She wanted to pretend she wasn’t hurting so damn bad.

  “I was about to make love to the woman I’ve been aching after for days. The first woman to even matter to me in twenty fucking years. I was lost in her body, completely blind to my surroundings because all I could smell was her arousal. The most wonderful fucking thing I’ve ever smelled. Goddamn it. And my wolf wants to taste every part of her body. But I know—me—I know that we need to go slow because I’ve paid attention to every fucking thing she’s said since I met her. And I don’t want to fuck this up. I desperately don’t want to fuck it up. I want to be everything she needs. But then she delivers the horrible news that some motherfucking bastard has taken what wasn’t his. Hurt her. And it’s…”

  His fists clenched until his muscles twitched and his knuckles turned white.

  “… it’s unbearable. Unforgivable. I wanted justice. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to eliminate him from your life so you’d never have to think about him again.”

  Slowly, he uncurled his fingers and lifted his hand to her cheek. Unable to help it, she pressed into his touch letting is soothe her. There was no denying the effect he had on her. The same way she’d brought him down from his rage, he was a balm to her pain.

  “And I looked at you, baby, and all I could wonder was if I’d hurt you too. I was lost in the pleasure of your body. I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t scared you. I wanted to make sure I was listening to you. So I gave you my shirt. I couldn’t think with your body bared to me.”

  “You told me to get out.”

  “Because my wolf wouldn’t rest. I was too angry. My animal needed out, and I needed you to go so you’d be safe. I didn’t want to lose control in front of you. Punk, he hasn’t ruined you. That thought never even crossed my mind.”

  No, that was her demon. It was the idea she fought constantly. It was why she’d never wanted to try until Beast came along. And it was the first thought that entered her mind when he reacted so badly.

  Punk pulled her face away. “I don’t know, Beast. I don’t know what to think. I need space.”