She had nearly backed out of their date, but something told her Matthew was not going to give up. So, she came up with a better plan: be surly and so disagreeable that he would regret asking her out. Why he unsettled her so much, she didn't know. And all those questions about her past … he couldn't find out the truth.
“Why are you thinking so hard this early?” he asked, his voice low and raspy.
“I’m not thinking.”
“I can imagine so many better things to do at this time in the morning.”
She moved her head to look up at him. “Does that line work with all—” Oh, why did this infuriating man never let her finish her sentences? And why did she just let him kiss her whenever he wanted?
She moaned when he rolled his body over hers, careful not to crush her under his weight. But he pressed down with enough pressure so she could feel the heat of his body and the hardness between his legs against her thighs. Damn him and his delicious, skillful mouth. His kisses were like a drug shooting straight into her system.
"Matthew," she moaned in protest when he moved his mouth away from hers. His lips trailed a path lower, down her neck, nibbling at the soft skin there. She bucked up against him, and he moved a hand down to part her knees so he could settle himself between her legs.
"You're so delicious," he whispered against her neck. A hand moved under her sweater, and the rough pads of his fingers sent a shiver through her body as they skimmed up her heated skin to her bare breasts. His fingers teased her nipples into hardness, and she whimpered. "Let me taste more of you, please, Catherine," he said.
She moaned and nodded, and he moved his head down. His hands pushed her sweater over her breasts, allowing the cool air to hit her skin. When his wet, hot mouth encircled a nipple, she let out a soft cry and dug her nails into his thick hair. He suckled again, and his tongue licked at that nipple while his fingers tweaked and pinched the other one.
“Oh … God …” She gasped when his hips began to move, rubbing his hard cock against her core. His length brushed against her just right. The only thing between them was her panties and his boxers. It felt incredible. Her body tightened like a bow being strung, and she feared she would snap any moment.
A ringing sound, loud and insistent, broke through the haze of desire. Matthew let out a soft curse, and she whimpered in disappointment when his mouth left her. He scrambled to his knees and looked around for the source of the sound, then, with another curse, hopped off the futon to grab his discarded trousers from the floor.
Catherine sat up, crawling to the edge of the futon, and pushed the sweater dress down to her knees. Oh God … they had almost … and she liked it. A lot. She wanted him bad, as much as he wanted her, as evidenced by his cock which was threatening to break through the fabric of his boxers even now as he angrily tapped the screen of his phone. She covered her face with her hands, which were still hot with embarrassment.
"Yeah … I know …" Matthew said as he spoke into his phone and slipped his trousers on. "Sorry, I had an emergency at the hospital. No, I'm fine. I'll be there in twenty." With a long, drawn-out breath, he put the phone down and slipped it back into his pocket, then picked up his shirt.
“Catherine,” he began as he sat back down on the futon. He reached out and touched her cheek. “How are you feeling? You look much better now.”
“I’m fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, though the touch of his fingers practically made her melt into a puddle. Or want to jump his bones. She gripped the bottom of her sweater to stop her fingers from reaching out.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. I didn’t let the office know I’d be in late.”
She glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen. Well, he was CEO. Probably started his day at six in the morning. She nodded, unsure what to say. What was he sorry about? Sorry about the kiss (and more)? About the date?
He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you later."
She watched him stand, button up his shirt, and head for the door. When she heard his heavy footsteps fade away and the front door closing, she grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it. Oh, God. Did that really happen? Why didn’t she resist and stop him?
Because she wanted him, too. It felt so right, and if it wasn't for that phone call, she knew it would have gone further. She was still wet, her body aching for him. She pressed her thighs together, feeling some relief at the pressure.
"No," she said aloud and got to her feet. She couldn't let this go on. She'd have to tell Matthew this would never happen again. She’d be more hardened in her resolve and avoid being alone with him from now on.
***
The great thing about working nights was that she had the rest of the day to run her errands or lay around in bed doing nothing. She usually did the latter, but today, all her mind and her traitor of a body wanted to do was think about Matthew. His lips … his body and the muscles under his taut skin. Hard and well-developed.
Determined to get him out of her mind, she got dressed, left her apartment, and walked to Main Street where all the shops and cafes were located. Except for a quick trip to refuel on caffeine the first day she had arrived in Blackstone, she had never stepped foot there.
It was a cool, brisk day and Catherine hugged her coat closer. Blackstone was so different from where she grew up. For one thing, she was still getting used to this weather. If she told people the truth, about her childhood, they’d probably think it was paradise. It was, and it was days like this she missed the sparkling sapphire blue waters and the white sand and—
Something made her stop in her tracks. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. She had been on the run long enough to know when she was being watched. Her stomach churned, and she pivoted, her heart thudding against her ribcage. The street was empty except for a car parked across the street and a couple of people—a teenage boy and girl walking hand-in-hand, a mother and child exiting the toy store, an elderly man sitting on a bench—but none of them had been paying particular attention to her.
Catherine walked away, picking up her pace as she turned a corner. She wasn’t wrong. She was never wrong. There was someone watching her, she felt it. But who? Had the Brotherhood found her? Or someone else? She would have to be careful now and not attract attention. Maybe even get ready to bolt. Shit. She didn’t have enough money for a cheap car, only a bus ticket. Even if she did, in this weather, a clunker probably wouldn’t get her very far. Not to mention, something about Blackstone made her want to stay. It felt like the right place. She shook her head mentally. No, she didn’t just think that. This place could never be home.
She checked her watch. It was early for work, but that only meant she could take her time. Maybe even walk in circles in case she had a tail. If she was early enough, she could also take her time eating her employee meal.
It took her an hour to walk to The Den. She circled Main Street a few times, walked in and out of several shops. The feeling in her gut never left. Soon, her shift started, and she was once again slinging drinks and opening bottles. But it was hard to get into her Zen space tonight with her mind so jumbled. Good thing it was slow, and she didn't mess up any orders.
Another thing was niggling at the back of her mind. Matthew Lennox. He said "see you later" when he had left this morning but didn't specify what that meant. Was he going to stop by the bar? By her house? They didn't exchange numbers, so she knew he wasn't going to call.
The night wore on, and there was no sign of Matthew. Maybe he wasn't going to come. She tried not to feel annoyed.
“Excuse me.”
Catherine whipped around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. A man had slid onto one of the stools and folded his hands over the bar, then looked at her with dark eyes. Her senses went tingling. Shifter. But this was a shifter bar, so that wasn’t unusual.
"What can I get you?" she asked as she observed him. He was not too tall, slim, probably in his mid-forties. His hair was dark and thinning and clun
g to his scalp. There was something about him that didn't feel like he belonged here. Though she hadn't been in Blackstone long, she was a good observer. She knew the clientele here, and this man definitely wasn't the usual type that patronized The Den. The fabric of his shirt was too thin and fine, not the typical thick, practical flannel or denim most people wore. And his hands were smooth like he'd never done a day of labor in his life.
“Just a beer. Whatever you have on tap,” he said, flashing her a grin.
“Sure.” She turned and grabbed a mug from behind the bar, then filled it from the tap.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said as she lowered the mug in front of him.
She turned to walk away, but a hand on her arm made her stop. The touch gave her goosebumps, and not the good kind.
“Hey, where are you going? You can chat for a minute, right?” His smile made her insides turn.
She pulled her arm away. “I’m sorry, sir, I have work to do.”
“There aren’t a lot of people here,” he countered.
“There’s work in the back that I need to get to. Excuse me, sir.”
“You look familiar. Have we met before?
The words sent a chill through her. “No, I don’t think so.”
“C’mon now,” he said with a leer. “Pretty girl like you, I’d remember you.”
“I’m new in town, so, no, you’ve probably never seen me before.”
“Is everything all right?”
Catherine whipped around at the sound of the gruff voice. Tim. He was standing right behind her, arms over his massive chest, eyes narrowed at the man. Thank God. “Sorry boss, I promise this is the last time I’ll dilly-dally. Sorry sir,” she said to the man. “I need to get to work.” Tim didn’t stop her, and she didn’t want to explain further.
Her heart was still pounding as she went to the storage room in the back. Who was that man? Why did he think he'd seen her before? She had a bad feeling about him.
Another thought dug its way into her brain. Still no sign of Matthew. For some reason, all she could think about was his embrace—his strong arms around her and his warmth, as if it were the only thing that could ward the chill from her body. It was annoying because she had already told herself she was going to stay away from him.
With a long sigh, she wiped her hands on her jeans and turned around to leave the room. She couldn't hide in here forever; she’d have to go out eventually. When she reached the bar, she felt the tightness in her chest disappear as there was no sign of the creepy man.
The rest of her shift went by quickly, and soon she was saying goodbye to Tim, Heather, and the rest of her fellow employees. She zipped up her puffy jacket and trudged out of The Den.
“Hey, you!” someone called as she was barely two feet away from the door.
The voice made her stop. No. Not him. She should ignore him and run home. Shit. Then he would find out where she lived.
“What do you want?” she asked, pivoting to face him.
"What? I can't say hi to a pretty lady?" he asked, his lips curling up into a cruel smile. Coal black eyes looked back at her. "Now, it's really bothering me, but I feel like I've seen you before. You worked as a bartender somewhere else … out west."
“You must have mistaken me for someone else,” she said quickly.
“Are you sure?” He stepped closer and reached out to touch her arm.
“Stay away from me!” she hissed. “Or I’ll scream.”
“Now why would you do a thing like that? I’m only being—”
“Is there a problem here?”
Relief flooded through her. She didn't recognize the voice but didn't care. She turned her head.
The man standing behind her looked familiar. He was tall, with long, blond hair cascading down his broad shoulders, and a thick beard covering half his face. His eyes were a golden color, and, for a second, she could have sworn they glowed.
"No problem," the dark-haired man said, and he dropped his hand to his sides. "I was just talking to the lady."
“Looks to me like you were trying to touch her.” He sniffed the air. “Dog.”
The man didn't move, but Catherine could see the anger in his eyes. "I'm a hyena, you stupid lion," he growled.
“I know. Now, get out of here,” the blond man roared. “And I better not see your face in Blackstone again or I’m going to tear your hide away from your body.”
"You—" He froze. Behind him, the door opened, and a group of people walked out. There were two couples. Catherine recognized them as they had ordered their drinks directly from her. All four watched them, their eyes fixed on the two men.
The hyena shifter said nothing, but he flashed a menacing grin at Catherine. He walked toward the parking lot and got into a car near the end. She shivered, realizing it was the same car that had been parked on Main Street that afternoon.
“You don’t got nothing better to do?” the blond man groused at the bystanders. The four of them quickly walked away like scared rabbits.
"You all right?" the blond man said when they were alone.
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.” Her eyes widened in surprise as she recognized who he was. “You’re …”
“Luke,” he supplied.
“You’re … Matthew and Jason’s brother,” she said.
“I’m not their brother,” he said quickly. “But Matthew did ask me if I could watch out for you and walk you home while he’s stuck at work.”
“At this hour?” she said, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I mean … whatever, I don’t care. And I’m fine, walking home alone.”
"You didn't look fine, back there," Luke said. "Who was that man? Do you know him?"
“No,” she said. “He’s just some customer.” She tried to sound casual. “Some guys you know just because they’re big tippers. They think you owe them something. Well, good night.” Without another word, she ambled toward her apartment. Her mind was filled with all sorts of questions. Who was that man? He was a hyena shifter apparently. The Brotherhood couldn’t have sent him, right?
“I said I was going to walk you home.” Luke seemingly had appeared out of nowhere and was now in front of her.
“Christ on a cracker.” She nearly jumped out of her skin. For a large man, Luke made no sound, even on a quiet winter night.
“I live right across the street,” she said. “So you needn’t bother.” Luke let out a snort and said nothing, but kept walking beside her. Catherine sighed in defeat. “Fine.” They crossed the street, Luke switching sides halfway, and then they arrived at her front door. “We’re here, okay?” She slipped her key in the door and didn’t bother to look behind or say goodbye.
She supposed it was rude, but she’d had just about enough of shifters for today. Sure, Luke didn’t scare her as much as the hyena did, but there was just something about him that made her uneasy, too.
As she started up the stairs, a knock behind her startled her. “Ugh,” she groaned as she walked back down. “Now what do you—Matthew?”
Silver eyes glinted up at her, and Matthew's handsome face broke into a smile. "Hello, sweetheart," he said. "Sorry about running out this morning. I was already at the office when I realized I didn't even have your number. Then I got stuck in a couple of meetings, and I had to do a teleconference with Hong Kong."
“Where’s Luke?” she asked.
“He’s around,” he said. “Are you going to invite me in?”
"So you couldn't bother to come see me, and you sent your brother to watch over me?” she asked.
He frowned. “I told you, I couldn’t get away.”
“Right,” she said with a huff.
“Did Luke say anything to you?” He moved forward and raised his hand, but she shrugged him off. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said, flinching away from him. “It’s just … I’m tired, Matthew. It’s been a long day.”
"I know," he said. "I don't want … I mean, can I just come in? We don't have to d
o anything."
“What do you want from me, Matthew?” she asked point blank.
He frowned. “I just want to spend time with you.”
“Like this morning?”
"Yeah, of course, and—"
"Look, I know you're feeling guilty about last night, but it's okay." She held up a hand when he tried to speak. "And also, I might have to leave Blackstone soon."
“What do you mean—”
She gave him the first excuse that popped into her head. "My grandma's sick." She mentally crossed her fingers. "I heard … from my cousin. No one else can take care of her, so I'm going to go see her." The lie was like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach, sinking lower and lower with each second.
“When will you be back?”
She shrugged. “Who knows … it might take her a while to recover.”
The look on Matthew's face made her heart wrench. It was too much. She had to get away from him before she changed her mind. "So … I guess I'll see you around." Before he could say anything else, she slammed the door in his face. She bit her lip, and it took all her strength not to open the door again. She forced her body to turn and march up the stairs, each step making her body feel heavier and heavier.
As soon as she was inside her apartment, she shut the door and leaned against it. It was better this way. Tonight was a sign. Whether or not the Chesnovak Brotherhood had sent the hyena to find her, she'd been recognized. He knew that she tended bar out in L.A., and word could get back to the Pride. It was best she put as much distance between her and Blackstone as soon as possible.
Chapter Eight
It was just her dumb, stupid luck that there were no buses out of Blackstone the next day, nowhere going far away anyway. Most of them stopped in the next towns, but she'd have to wait overnight for the long-distance buses. That would mean spending money on a motel or spending the night at the bus station. Neither sounded appealing, so Catherine decided one more day wouldn't make a difference. The first bus the next day would take her to Georgia, which she had heard was nice this time of year. Not that she cared. As long as it was far, far away from here, it would do.
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