“Hmmm. Do you give it a nice...gentle...stroke?”
Baylee arched a little when his hands captured her breasts, fingers tugging her soap-slick nipples. Her core ached in more ways than one. “Actually, I give it a good spanking with a wrench.”
Daxon stilled, every muscle frozen in place. Then he laughed, richly, the sound deep and intoxicating. “There’s my little witch. I adore you.”
Baylee felt her heart drop, heard her breath catch. She spun around to face him, her eyes searching his face. She saw love there, not just the adoration he spoke of. “You...adore me?”
His lips twitched. “Maybe something greater than adore.”
“Don’t mess with me, big guy.”
“I love you, Baylee.”
Four little words, she thought as her vision blurred. Four little words that brought the world as she knew it to a complete stop before sending it spinning in the opposite direction. Her arms banded around him, her face pressed to the solid breadth of his chest. Water streamed over them but she didn’t care. It masked her tears.
“Hey, hey. I didn’t tell you that to make you cry, baby.” Daxon’s lips touched her head as he cuddled her into him.
“I’m not crying,” she sobbed, holding onto the one thing she’d dreamed about for years, the dream she’d yearned for. “I’m happy.”
He chuckled. “Looks like it.” He tilted her face up to look at him, and she met his eyes without shame. “I know what you gave me our first night together, Baylee. Not just your virginity, and that was an enormous gift on its own. Did you think I wasn’t aware you offered your heart to me as well?”
She sniffled. She was fairly sure her face had turned into a splotchy mess but the way he was looking at her, she didn’t think it mattered. “I thought if I told you what I felt, you’d dismiss it, or maybe you’d think I was saying it to...trap you.”
“Neither,” he assured her softly. “But I’d have been worried you were tangling your heart up with sex, and that never bodes well. I loved you even as I walked away from you, Baylee. Seriously, that was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done. I thought because you loved me, and I loved you, walking away would save us both a hell of a lot of heartache. I was wrong.”
She blinked at him. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”
“Don’t push it, pipsqueak,” he said with a lift of his brow. “I’m admitting I was wrong. I know telling you I love you now might not set any doubts you must have about me aside, but I promise you, I won’t repeat my past mistakes.”
Speechless, she kept blinking. She leaned back, wiped water from her face. His gaze was intent on hers, fierce and primal. Jungle cat eyes. “I love you, Daxon. No doubts, no trust issues. You’re my one. I knew it the day you blindsided me in the store. I’ve never had a reaction like that to a man in my life.”
He grinned. “That’s because you were made for me, little witch.”
Baylee cuddled back into him, relaxed and happier than she’d ever thought possible. “If that’s true, I can live with it.”
“I want to take you home, Baylee. I’d like you to meet my family; my parents and siblings, the rest of the Gillies clan. You’re a shifter now, you belong with us.” He sighed heavily. “If you tell anyone about us, about our species, you have to be one-hundred percent positive you can trust them. We’ve managed to escape persecution; many species haven’t been so lucky.”
“You don’t want me to tell Bren.”
He reached out for the shower gel, began to wash her back, her buttocks. Humming with pleasure, she stepped back a fraction and gave him the same treatment. The water ran black, dirt lifting free with the help of the scented lather.
“If you trust her. Baylee, you’re dead to everyone in this town except for her. Brenna’s the only one who knows you’re not. If you wanted it to be, this could be a fresh start for you.” He crouched to soap up her legs. “We can be gone by morning, on our way to California. We can get married, choose a house on the grounds if you don’t like mine—there’s hundreds of acres to pick from. My father will perform the ceremony to join you into the clan as a blood shifter.”
She tried to consider it as her hands massaged gel into his hair. Move away from Hangman’s Haunt? Her friends, her business—one she’d fought so hard for—and a thirty-year-old life she’d made here? “I...I don’t know what to say, Dax. It’s a massive step, and I’d be walking away from...everything.”
“Not everything,” he corrected gently, straightening. He poured more gel into his hand, cupped her carefully between the thighs and cleaned her thoroughly. “You’re not human anymore, baby, if you ever were. I’m offering you a life without persecution, without fear of being discovered for what you are, without the need to hide your true self. A family, a marriage to a sexy sonofabitch who worships you, and love that can’t be measured.”
Such a polite conversation, Baylee thought. Despite the topic, she felt no tension inside herself and none from Daxon. This wasn’t a heated argument, a head-to-head battle over their future. He was doing his best to persuade her, and damn him, he was pressing some responsive buttons.
They rinsed off until all the dirt and bubbles were gone, and the water started to cool. She pushed the curtain back, snatched up a towel and passed it to him, then took one for herself. “If I say no, I can’t leave here? What then? Do we face heartbreak all over again?”
“Never,” he growled. He swiped the towel over himself, taking off the worst of the wet, then wrapped it around his trim waist. “Leaving you isn’t an option anymore, Baylee. The first time was the last time. Where you go, I go.”
Do I get a say in the matter? Sheba piped up.
Good question, Baylee responded. “What about Sheba, and Vex? Do they get to voice an opinion in this?”
A smile touched his mouth. “They’re instrumental in this. Of course, their opinions matter. What does Sheba say?”
We belong with our own kind, Baylee. On our own, even with the protection of an Alpha, we are vulnerable. Especially now. We need the security of a clan, the guidance of elders. We have much to learn.
Why now? Baylee asked suspiciously.
It will come to light soon. It is not for me to sway you one way or the other, but if I have a vote, I vote for a change of scenery.
Well that’s helpful. Thanks a bunch. Baylee rolled her eyes. “She’s California-bound.”
Daxon nodded slowly. “Vex is of the same opinion.”
She sighed. “Do I have to decide now?”
He took the towel from her hands, dried her off tenderly before plucking her robe from the back of the bathroom door and bundling her into it. “I’m not forcing you to make the decision now, no. It’s not something you should be forced into, but one you come to of your own volition.”
“But if I’m to remain dead to Hangman’s Haunt, I need to hurry up about it,” she added what he didn’t say.
“Something like that, yes. It’s not imperative you stay dead, it would just make things easier in one respect.” He kissed her then, lovingly, passionately.
They both jumped like startled rabbits as the door shook with hard blows.
“Hey lovebirds! You’ve had nearly half an hour in there!”
“We’re coming!” Baylee shouted back and then giggled. She eyed Dax’s nearly naked body and shrugged out of the robe. “Put that on. I have clean clothes but nothing that’s going to fit you. Brenna will swallow her tongue if you walk out of here like that.”
He flashed her a grin. “Brenna, speechless? Might be worth it.”
“It really won’t, now put that on.”
His lip curled at the soft, fluffy purple robe. “I’ll take my chances with the towel.”
“Oh stop being such a guy and put the damn thing on.” Hastily, she wrapped a damp towel around herself, making sure it covered both breasts and crotch, then stole his and wrapped it around her hair.
“Well I don’t have a choice now, do I?” He said with a touch of humor.
/>
“Nope,” she said and opened the door, leaving him to scramble into the robe. “I’ll meet you on the sofa once I’ve changed.”
IMPATIENCE GNAWED AT his insides, and Vex wasn’t helping matters with his pacing and grumbling. They’d been given an opportunity they couldn’t afford to dismiss; Baylee’s ‘death’ meant they could leave Hangman’s Haunt without a myriad of questions she couldn’t—shouldn’t, in some cases—answer.
But he sat on her sofa in a fluffy purple robe that hit him mid-thigh and barely met in the middle, with a cup of coffee in one hand and both ears on the girls’ conversation. His woman leaned against him, into him, her cup abandoned on the table and her fingers linked with his.
Across from them, Brenna sat cross-legged in the chair, nails tapping lazily on the arm. There was a whole range of emotions flickering over her lovely face, not one of them lingering for long before randomly switching. “So, which one of you is prepared to lie to me first?”
“Brenna—”
“Something’s going on. You’re either going to tell me the truth or lie to me, and by the look on his face,” Brenna jabbed a finger at him, “he’s not opposed to telling me a crock of shit.”
“God, you sound like Allix.”
“Just be thankful I didn’t call them,” Brenna snapped back. “Both Allix and Cassie are fucking wrecks, Bay. Unlike me, they believe you’re dead.”
“Why didn’t you?” Daxon asked.
She gave him a cold smile and tapped a finger against her temple. “I’m a very special individual. I can see things, past and future. Sometimes they come through as images, but a lot are feelings, thoughts.”
“Are you a witch?”
Brenna gave him an Are-you-fucking-nuts? look. “Seriously? No, I’m not. I’m something other.”
Yes, he thought warily. He wasn’t sure how much she could see, what truths she’d be able to uncover. Because of that, he deemed her dangerous, a threat to his mate. “What did you see that made you aware Baylee still lived?”
Now she looked a little embarrassed. “I saw her in the woods, by the clearing. Stress can skew the images sometimes, and this was no exception. She was there, and then she wasn’t. But a panther with big blue eyes hunted deer through the trees. I interpreted it as she was alive, that she was living off the land until she found her way home again.”
Those amber eyes flicked to Baylee. “I told them they had to keep looking, Bay. I begged them, pleaded with them to search the higher ranges, but once they found your campsite, they closed the book on your disappearance.”
Baylee rubbed a hand over her face, then gave him a beseeching look. He shrugged his shoulders, giving her free rein to make the choice. He already knew what she would do; he understood the bond of best friends, and out of all the three women Baylee spent her life with, Brenna seemed to be the one Baylee couldn’t live without.
“It needs to stay that way, Brenna.” Baylee said quietly. “The book needs to stay closed, and I need to stay dead. It’s better for everyone.”
Okay then, Daxon thought as shock hit him in the belly. He’d been completely wrong about the path she would take. Hope rose in him, scalding lava rising from volcanic depths. “Baylee, are you sure?”
Her hand tightened on his. “Yes. You’re right, it has to be this way.”
“What the actual fuck are you on about?” Brenna didn’t quite shriek, but it was distressingly close. His eardrums rattled at the pitch of her voice.
“The night I lost my virginity, something woke in me. Something not entirely human, Bren. I know you think I’ve lost my marbles out in the Copse, but I haven’t; I’m unique. Dax knows people who can help me hone the gift, guide me through the complexities of it all.” Baylee offered her hand out to her friend, and for a horrible moment, he thought Brenna might turn Baylee down.
But she didn’t; after the briefest hesitation, Brenna clasped Baylee’s hand tightly. “What sort of gift are we talking about?”
“I’ll get to that, I promise,” Baylee told her. She sighed quietly and pursed her lips. “I’m going to tell you everything that happened from the night we argued, okay? It’s going to sound ridiculous but I need you to listen.”
“Am I going to be hearing his words coming out of your mouth?”
Daxon barely blinked at the hostility, simply sipped at his coffee. “I can be a hard man, Brenna, but even I don’t stoop so low as to make a woman into a puppet. Whatever Baylee chooses to tell you, they’re her words and it’s her story.”
“Hmm.” She dismissed him with a glance. “Go on, Baylee.”
True to her word, Baylee explained everything from her stop at the camping store to her first shift in the forest, right down to the ten days she’d spent under Sheba’s control. She skipped quickly over their sexual frenzies and ended when they arrived back into town.
Brenna simply stared at her, mouth open a fraction. After a few moments of silence, she threw her head back and laughed until tears rolled down her face. “That is the biggest load of bullshit the state of Montana has ever seen.”
Daxon felt Baylee stiffen beside him, squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Why don’t you let me do this part, baby? I can do it faster and it doesn’t hurt me like it does you.”
Pain, emotional pain, twisted her mouth and made her eyes sad. Daxon had to soothe Vex just as much as he soothed Baylee to keep the beast from lashing out. He stood without fanfare, shrugged out of the robe and moved to a space big enough to shift in without crushing her furniture—not the easiest of tasks in her small living room.
He heard Brenna’s hum of appreciation, ignored it.
“This isn’t going to prove anything,” Brenna said with a scowl.
He simply grinned at her and opened his body to the transformation. He hadn’t lied when he said it didn’t hurt him like Baylee’s change did. Decades of experience made it faster, easier, and minimized what pain he did feel. Quick snaps, over and done in milliseconds. The spread of fur over his skin became an orgasmic caress over every inch of his body.
Vex flexed his muscles, tried to roar, but Daxon soothed him again and turned the primitive sound into a wet, throaty growl. Through the big cat’s eyes, he watched the redhead turn white, her hands gripping the chair arms in a death grip. Heard her breathless, “Oh shit.”
“He’s my lover, Bren. Actually, he’s much more than that. He’s my mate, the other half of me. Everything I ever wanted is wrapped up in him.” Baylee stood now, her slender body showcased in blue Lycra pants and a hoody. She stripped them off slowly, her embarrassment clear. “I don’t know how this happened to me; Daxon doesn’t either. But if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with him, it doesn’t bother me. It’s actually exhilarating.”
That’s my little witch, he thought adoringly, prowling over to rub himself against her legs. He sensed the hum of the transformation, that intense vibration signaling cellular changes, and encouraged her with a soft purr.
He was incredibly proud at the rate she shifted, with barely a sound to acknowledge her discomfort, and in under a minute, he was nuzzling his she-panther, licking her ears and whispering loving sentiments through the internal channel they shared.
“Oh shit,” Brenna repeated. Her amber eyes were bigger now, disbelief sketched into her features.
Now she believed, he thought with smug satisfaction. Hard not to be truthful with yourself when your own eyes saw the impossible. Feeling wicked, he stalked over to her, climbing onto the chair with his front paws and resting them on the arms besides her trembling hands.
He bared his teeth, exposing his gleaming canines, and gave her his best threatening growl. Her whimper did wonders for his ego.
Don’t, Daxon. We’ve proved our point, now let it go.
Very well, he replied with a sigh. He dropped back to the carpet, turned away from Brenna’s petrified form, and reverted into human form. He said nothing as he shoved his arms into the robe, tightened the belt around his waist and plunked ba
ck down into his seat.
Baylee, bless her, sat beside him, nudging her head under his hand for a rub. He obliged her, scratching her in the places he knew gave the most pleasure for both cat and human, then turned his attention to Brenna with a smirk. “Questions, comments?”
“I...how the...what?”
“Hangman’s Haunt raises its women with grit,” he commented. “Neither Baylee nor you have run screaming at the sight of a shifter. I’m impressed.” That much was true. He’d heard tales of mortals running screaming into the night at the vision of a shifter in transformation...only to come back with an army hoisting pitchforks and torches. “I can’t answer the how or the what, not without divulging information that could be used to harm my family.” He set his hand on Baylee’s head. “That could be used as a weapon against Baylee.”
Against our cubs.
Brenna’s hackles rose. “You think I’d hurt Baylee?”
“Perhaps not intentionally. The wrong word in the wrong ear during a casual conversation and—ha-ha—cat’s out of the bag. I don’t fancy being a specimen in a lab somewhere, or a special feature in a freak show. She wouldn’t look good as someone’s living room rug.”
“I would never—”
“Small towns are notorious for gossip,” Dax interrupted coldly. “I don’t know you, not like she does. I don’t trust easily and I don’t love on a whim. Baylee’s mine now; she belongs with me and with her own kind.”
“You’re taking her away from me because I told you to go, aren’t you?”
His smile could have shattered glass with its sharpness. “Believe me, Brenna, I couldn’t take her away if she didn’t want to go. We could live here quite happily but with the risk of exposure, of being hunted, even getting caught out by a random trophy hunter in the right place at the right time.”
“Baylee,” Brenna implored, turning soft, sad eyes toward the she-panther. “You can’t be okay with this!”
Chapter Eleven
“I’ll finish,” Daxon warned her. “You opened the door, so we’ll clear the air. The night I walked away from her, you gave me the push. I can’t—don’t—blame you for that. Some stranger waltzes into town and seduces your virgin friend, you’re going to have your suspicions, and it’s not down to me to deny you them. The blame lands squarely on my head, on my weakness.
Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1 Page 15
