“Baylee!” Brenna stepped up to her, grasped her face firmly in her tiny hands and stared hard with those unearthly amber eyes. “You were riding his goddamned leg. Another few minutes and you’d have gone past the point of no return. Are you seriously ready for that? For all the way?”
There could only be honesty, Baylee decided. Unblinkingly, without hesitation and with the memory of Daxon’s mouth seared against hers still fresh, she smiled serenely. “With him? Yes. I’d’ve taken him as my lover, my first, without regret. He makes me feel...incandescent, Bren. Alive, whole.”
“Well, shit.” Brenna shook her head. “We have a level five crisis.”
Chapter Three
Frustration ate at his gut like acid. Something had clicked between Baylee and him; he’d felt it snick into place deep inside him. It forged a connection between them he couldn’t readily remove. Problem was, he wasn’t sure he wanted it gone.
Daxon headed down the block toward the restaurant he’d booked—The Crosstie, he thought with an eye roll, how quaint—and rubbed his fingers over the damp spot on his thigh. When he brought them to his nose, her scent hit his primal side the same way gasoline struck fire.
His inner beast threw its head back and roared, clawing at its bonds to get to its mate.
Daxon cursed, fighting it. He wasn’t ready to claim a mate yet, even if his beast was. He’d wanted a night, maybe two, with a woman who intrigued him, not the eternal fucking knot to bind them together.
But her scent...fuck. How close would Baylee have let him come, he wondered. She hadn’t pulled away when his arms yanked her flush against his body. Would she have flinched, protested, if he’d replaced his thigh with his hand?
Stop it. Just stop it. Daxon stood on the sidewalk, hands clenched into fists, his cock threatening to rip free of his pants. He’d never felt arousal this powerful. He had to quit thinking about her, about what could have happened, before the worst happened and he lost control.
He wanted a good bloody kill or a damn good fuck.
Right now, he couldn’t have either. Once the beast released, it would run for miles and miles through the undergrowth, killing what it needed as it went until it became satisfied. Daxon knew it hungered, for blood or sex, and when it got like this, it wouldn’t relinquish control as easily as it did otherwise.
But he had a horrible feeling he might be waiting a while for the phone call from Baylee. The redhead’s agitation could take some calming; he’d happily bet a fifty Brenna had been planning on taking him apart limb from limb.
He supposed it spoke volumes about Baylee that her friends were violently protective over her. It pleased him but at the same time, they’d make his life a lot harder by standing between him and Baylee. Nothing bode well for anything that tried to come between him and what he wanted.
Options, he thought. What were his options right now? Well, number one could only be to return to the shop, kidnap Baylee and spirit her away to the woodland where he could have his way with her in private. Number two? Shift into a form, let the beast have freedom for a while, hunt down a kill, and hope Baylee didn’t call while his hands were indisposed. Number three...Daxon didn’t like option number three. In past time of desperation, it had worked in a pinch, but seeking out another woman for a quick shag when his entire being screamed for Baylee seemed self-destructive.
Hangman’s Haunt didn’t have the biggest population, and knowing his luck, he’d find the woman with the most talkative mouth. Wouldn’t take long for talk of the stranger in town sleeping with the locals to get back to Baylee or one of her friends.
Not worth the risk. Not when the woman he wanted burned hotter than seven suns at a simple touch. He wouldn’t betray her, couldn’t sour any chance he had at...whatever this thing with her might be.
Sex, he told himself, just a good, hard fuck to benefit both of them. A night with her would soothe his beast, get rid of the erection he’d sported since he’d first set eyes on her, and give Baylee the best first time any virgin had ever experienced.
He stepped through the glass doors of The Crosstie and veered away from the dining area into the bar. Aside from a guy seated at the far end of the long, gleaming showpiece of an oak bar—late-fifties, bald, built like a lumberjack—Daxon appeared to be the only other customer.
Daxon found that surprising. Four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon at most places found the joint almost full to the brim, filled with loners and heartbreakers and families looking for a good afternoon meal and social interaction.
“Help you?”
Daxon turned back to the bar, and the man standing with his arms crossed over a chest a bull would be proud of. Only about five-eleven, Daxon estimated, but a thick five-eleven. The guy was pure muscle. “Jack, three fingers, straight up.”
Daxon found himself being weighed up not-so-subtly by the bartender. After a moment, the guy nodded and went about filling the order. “You here long?”
“Got into town yesterday.”
“Hmmm. Staying long?”
“Depends.” Daxon caught the glass the guy shoved along the bar top, sipped.
“On?”
Oh, he’d raised some flags. Fantastic. Better to get his reason for being in town out before he got strung up by a lynch mob that didn’t like his face. “On how long it takes to get what I came here for.”
Bartender’s face closed in, pale blue eyes narrowing. “Oh yeah? And what might that be?”
“My brother.” Daxon pulled his wallet from inside his jacket, slipped out the most recent photo of Kaiyan he had and slid it across the bar. “Kaiyan Gillies. Have you seen him?”
The guy relaxed a fraction, enough to pick up the picture and study it. His head tilted a little to one side, eyes flicking from the photo to Daxon. “Spitting image of you, huh? He in trouble?”
“No trouble. Family emergency. I need to find him.”
“Never been in here. Don’t think I’ve seen him around town, but I’ve seen his face...” He held the photo further toward the light. “No, not in town. I do the nature thing; hike, mountain bike, rock climb. That’s where I’ve seen him, I think. Hiking, maybe four, five weeks ago. Again during a bike ride, a week later.”
“Same area?” Daxon took the photo back, put it safely back in his wallet. At the same time, he palmed a twenty. “Same trails?”
“No, completely opposite sides of the mount.” Bartender gestured with a chin jerk toward the hulking monster of nature defining the skyline. “Dude looked rough. Gaunt, you know? Got the whole Mountain Man thing going on. Needs to get his ass from up there before winter hits.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Daxon held his hand out. “Daxon Gillies.”
Bartender took his offered hand. “Cory Bryant. What’s the twenty for?”
“Think of it as a thank you. You just gave me my first solid lead.”
“Don’t need to pay for my help.” Cory looked down at the twenty, shrugged and shoved it in his pocket. “I’ll take it. Got a wife and a baby girl at home, and that’ll buy ‘em something pretty. Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” Daxon took another sip of Jack Daniels, let the burn work its way down. Torn now between scouring the hills for his brother and waiting for Baylee to call, he growled low in his throat.
Cory wandered down to the other end of the bar as the one other occupant hailed him. A couple came in, arms linked, laughing. In love. So wrapped up in each other, the brown-haired man and his lost-in-love little blonde.
Daxon could smell the sex on them. Young couple embarking on a new and exciting relationship, he wondered, or an established couple on a getaway, a honeymoon, a rekindling of dampened fires? Whichever, the heady scent of their passion snapped his control.
He tossed back the whisky, signaled Cory. When the tender came back to him, Daxon pulled out his cell phone. “Fifty bucks if you mind my phone, Cory. I have an errand I need to run and I’m not sure about the cell reception out here; I could be a couple hours. If a lady
calls, tell her I’m sorry and I’ll try to get back in time for dinner. Sound good?”
Cory grinned. “You’re the boss. I’ll make sure she gets the message.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Feeling claustrophobic now, stifled by the clothes on his back, the smell of alcohol and perfume and sex choking him, Daxon made a break for the door.
The beast wanted out now.
THREE PAIRS OF WORRIED eyes pinned her into the chair. Eyes she loved. Her friends were strangely protective over her, considering the fact she’d hit thirty before any of them. The oldest of the group, she mused, and they looked at her as she imagined a worried mother would when having the sex talk with her hormone-riddled teenaged daughter.
At least she’d made herself comfortable before the intervention crew arrived, she thought wearily. She’d changed out of the dress she’d decided to have bronzed in commemoration of today’s events into a comfy purple hoody and black jogging pants. She wiggled her toes happily in the toes of her sneakers; heels always made her feet feel cramped.
“You guys are ruining my date night.”
Cassie, possibly the softest of them all, leaned forward in her own chair. “Bay, you’re sure you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you? You can tell us; you know we’ll support you.”
“For the last time, I’m fine. Daxon didn’t hurt me, he didn’t rape me. For God’s sake, Bren, you saw. Can you honestly say it wasn’t consensual?” Baylee spread her hands wide, beseeching her friend. “What part of what you witnessed did you think nonconsensual?”
“Come on, Baylee. Your dress was all rucked up around your waist, he had you pinned against the counter with his leg between yours.” Brenna mirrored Baylee’s position. “A stranger, Bay. A guy I’d never seen before, one you’ve never mentioned. What was I supposed to think?”
“I was wrapped around him like ivy on a tree,” Baylee said exasperatedly. She dismissed the flush she could feel rising up her throat. “Look, we’ve established I’m all good, I did nothing against my will, and I’d like to get back to doing...what I was doing. Can we all go do our respective thing now?”
“Why him?”
The question came from Allix. She sat quietly, face pensive yet unreadable. As she could be one of the more volatile of the four, Baylee knew something lurked under the calm demeanor.
“Allix?”
“Why him, Bay? Every guy since high school who’s shown an interest in you, you’ve turned them down. College, clubs, that gorgeous personal trainer from the gym? Not so much as a flicker of interest from you. But this guy walks into your store and you’re ready to do the deed, just like that. What makes him that special?”
Valid question. She didn’t know how to answer it without sounding incredibly stupid, or worse, naïve. She straightened, glared at Allix. “You’re sitting there, judging me, when you encouraged me to go get sweaty with him? You hadn’t even met him, Allix.”
“No, I hadn’t. My point is I’ve never had to encourage you to get sweaty with anyone because you’ve always turned them down. So why him?”
“Because I like him. He’s honest and gentle, and he doesn’t care I’m a virgin.” The last word slipped out defiantly. “He could have had me then and there. Instead he wanted to take me on a date. He scares the stuffing out of me, and yet I feel safe with him.”
“Killer good looks don’t go amiss,” Brenna muttered.
Baylee’s attention switched back to Brenna. “He’s fucking gorgeous. Moves like a predator, all feline grace. But it’s not about that for me; will I mind waking up next to him the morning after? God, no. But I’m not squandering my virginity on a tall, dark asshole. There’s more to him than that.”
“Honey, what if he’s not there the morning after?” Cassie asked gently. “What happens if you fall for him and he just disappears when he’s gotten what he wanted?”
“What gives you the impression I’m going to fall for him?” The coldness of her voice shocked Baylee. She’d never taken that tone with her friends before. “Maybe I just want to feel sparks and a warm body next to mine for a few hours. Did you ever think of that?”
Allix’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Sparks?”
“Yes, sparks, however illogical it may be. He makes me feel like I’m not alone.”
“What the fuck did he give you?” Allix shot out of her chair like a bullet, fists clenched. “Don’t, Cassie. Don’t fucking defend that prick when he’s obviously slipped her something. Sparks, my ass!”
Baylee’s dormant temper twisted uneasily in its sleep. She tried to quell it, to keep it buried deep, but it woke with an attitude and a terrible roar. “This is bullshit. You’ve staged an intervention for what? Because I finally aimed for a higher bar in life? You’ve all had sex. You know what it’s like to be connected to someone on another level, several levels. I want that.”
“Baylee, open your fucking eyes! Sparks don’t just pop into existence like some magical connection. He fucking drugged you.”
“He didn’t!” Baylee didn’t realize she’d leaped to her feet until she was nose to nose with Allix. How did they escalate to this so quickly? “I felt them. They were real, and I want more of them. I want him.”
“How can you be so naïve? The fucker gave you something, Bay!”
“Enough! The pair of you, just stop!” Cassie shoved her way between them, pushing them apart. “Cool down, both of you. There’s no need to blow this all out of proportion. Baylee, you have to understand—”
“Oh, I understand just fine.” Heart breaking, she took a couple steps back. She grabbed her purse from the hook on the back of the front door and yanked it open. “Don’t wait up for me; I don’t know when I’ll be back.” She slammed the door shut behind her as Brenna shouted her name.
How dare they. How dare they pull him to pieces, question her sanity. For years, she’d taken their good-natured mocking without complaint. She’d listened to their discussions on boyfriends and sex problems—conversations she couldn’t really participate in—and comforted all of them more than once when relationships went wrong.
She hit the street, completely lost as to where to go. She wanted to curl up and lick the wounds her friends had inflicted, but she couldn’t stay in her apartment when so much animosity resided there. She set off toward the store at a brisk jog.
“Baylee, hold up.”
She kept moving. Screw them all and the horses they rode in on. Her mind turned over the fight in her head like a movie on repeat. She hated fighting, hated the raised voices and horrible words, the vicious undertone beneath them.
“Baylee!”
“Go away, Allix. I don’t want to talk to you.” Tears choked her.
“Give me a chance, Bay. We were out of line, okay? We shouldn’t have jumped on you that way.” Allix caught up with her, matched her pace easily. “We’re worried, that’s all. This guy—”
“Daxon,” Baylee snapped. “His name is Daxon.”
“Daxon came out of nowhere, Bay. Can you see where we’re coming from? He’s a stranger, no one knows anything about him, and he’s hooked you good and proper. In a matter of hours.”
“My business, Allix. Mine. I’m sick of being alone. I know you’re worried and I’m sorry for it. But I’m taking this opportunity. What could he possibly want from me? I’m not rich, I don’t have anything for him to steal.”
Allix set her hand on Baylee’s arm, pulled her to a stop. Her green eyes—so different to Daxon’s on so many levels—were direct. “Listen to me, Bay. Please. Not everything is about monetary value or about stealing something. Men—some men,” she corrected with a wince, “are all about inflicting pain. Mental, emotional, physical...whatever they can rip out of you.”
“He’s not like that.”
“Really? And you know him so well after such a long acquaintance?”
“No. You’re right. I don’t know him, don’t know anything about him. Maybe I’ll turn around tomorrow or next week or next year and regret he became my first.
” Baylee shook off her friend’s hand. “I’d rather have something to remember, something to regret, than lament over my cowardice and wonder what might have happened.”
“I can respect that.” Allix rubbed her hands over her face. “Promise me one thing, Bay? One thing to set my mind at ease.”
“What?”
“If you’re set on doing this, on being with him? Don’t go with him, okay, to wherever he’s staying. Don’t end up in his territory. Go get a room at the hotel, fetch him back here if you must, but don’t get stuck with him. And do not let him fuck you without a condom.”
Baylee stifled an embarrassed giggle. Allix had returned to her usual profane self. “All right, I promise. Are we done fighting now?”
Clever green eyes rolled. “For now, I guess. Can’t say I’m happy with the decision, but it’s yours to make.” Allix pulled Baylee to her, wrapped her up tight in a hug that brought tears to Baylee’s eyes. “Just be careful, bitch. If he hurts you, I’ll make sure he suffers. Be sure to tell him that.”
“You’ll like him when you meet him.”
“Hmm, I’ll reserve judgement on that. I love you, Baylee.”
Baylee breathed deep of Allix’s familiar smell – refreshingly sweet citrus – and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I love you too.”
Just like that, Baylee thought with a sniffle. Just like that and the world set itself back to rights. “I have to go. I want to go for a run, clear my head before...well, before.”
“You go. I’ll head back, tell Cass and Bren. Keep us updated, Baylee, so we don’t worry, okay?” Allix patted Baylee’s back gently, and Baylee felt the reluctance Allix fought against as they released each other. “Find the fun in it, Baylee. Sex doesn’t need to be so damned serious all the damned time.”
She’d try to remember that, Baylee thought a little sickly. When the moment came and her heart beat like a tribal drum in her chest, she’d try find the fun in it. “Am I going to be able to walk...after?”
Allix’s face brightened with mischievous light. “Bitch, if he’s any good at all, you won’t walk for a week.”
Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1 Page 4
