Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1

by Kay Elle Parker

  My feelings for Baylee weren’t something I was expecting. In a way that made it easier to walk. I’m a thirty-six-year-old man who prides himself on being a lot of things to a lot of women, and here I am brought to my knees by a raven-haired slip of a woman. So no, I’m not taking Baylee away from you because of that. This isn’t a punishment,” he said in a kinder tone. “This is what’s best for Baylee in the long run.”

  Baylee purred and rubbed against his hand, blue eyes half-closed in delight. She made no move to revert back, he thought as he stifled a smile, and wondered if Sheba’s will overpowered her again. Or whether staying in shifted form made it easier for her to deal with leaving.

  “I want to hear it from Baylee,” Brenna said stubbornly.

  You already did, Daxon nearly snapped back. “Tell her that.”

  Those amber eyes studied the she-panther suspiciously. “Why hasn’t she, you know, turned back? Like you?”

  “Sometimes she can’t. What’s inside us is sentient, intelligent, and incredibly strong. This is why Baylee needs to come with me; we can teach her how to exist alongside the entity, co-exist without a constant battle for supremacy. She must learn to forge a partnership with Sheba, become attuned to the predator’s psyche. It’s not an easy thing to do, and I don’t know of any of our kind who’s managed to do it without help from another.”

  Baylee rose, padded over to Brenna and rested her head in her friend’s lap. Much like a giant black puppy, Dax mused as he watched the display of affection.

  Vex, who’s in control?

  A moment’s silence before Vex replied, Baylee has the upper hand.

  Daxon checked his watch. Time was slipping by; if he had any hope of sneaking Baylee out of town before the locals laid eyes on her, they needed to be gone before dawn. “Baylee, if you want to take anything with you, now’s the time to pack and say a proper goodbye.”

  That gorgeous black head turned to look at him, those stunning sapphire eyes gleaming. She gave him a pitiful look; Daxon simply lifted an eyebrow. The change happened quickly, almost gracefully. “Can you pass me my clothes?”

  “She’s your best friend, Baylee, surely she’s seen you naked before.” He rose, gathered the pants and hoody, and handed them to her. “Nudity in front of others is something that will become second nature to you in time.”

  “In time being the operative phrase,” she muttered, wriggling into her clothes without underwear—a fact Daxon made note of for future reference. “I don’t think I’m much of an exhibitionist.”

  He smirked to himself. The clan wasn’t exactly shy about enacting public displays of affection and openly having sexual interactions—in both human and animal forms—in front of other members. It was part and parcel of being what they were; sex meant reproduction, love, trust. “Baby, remember who you’re talking to here.”

  She glanced at him and flushed bright red. “Oh. Yeah.”

  “Is he making you do this against your will?” Brenna got up, grabbed Baylee by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Bay, we can stop all this nonsense right now, just say the word.”

  “Brenna, how can you say that when you’ve seen us change? I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” Baylee said on a sigh, putting her hands on the redhead’s pale cheeks. “Honestly, I can’t. Losing you or Allix or Cassie would rip the soul right out of me. But I know what I’ve been through, and I don’t want to go through that again. Being trapped, helpless...not the best of feelings. I need to do this. I need to acclimate to this fantastic new self-expansion I’ve been given and make it work for me.”

  “But to just let everyone think you’re dead...” Tears spilled down Brenna’s cheeks, gathered in the cradle of Baylee’s thumbs. “That’s not like you, Bay.”

  “No, it’s not. Would you rather they think I’m dead, or tell them I’m a shapeshifter who’s in love with a panther?” She sighed again, closing her eyes. “We have to go, Bren. If it makes life easier, tell them all I’ve been found by some good Samaritan and taken to recuperate in, I don’t know, Twin Falls. Tell them I’ve gone crazy if you have to.”

  They wept together then, two women so far apart from each other in looks and yet as close as sisters. Daxon felt guilt twist in his gut; without him, this wouldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t be pulling a family apart in order to complete his own. They’d have gone on existing without the knowledge of him and his kind.

  He slipped away from them, into Baylee’s private sanctum, and decided to see if he could find any article of clothing that he could get away with wearing. Not much hope of that, he decided as he opened a set of drawers and found her stash of underwear.

  He grinned, holding up a pair of plain white granny panties. A flash of red caught his eye; intrigued, he fished out a lacey thong made from less material than a handkerchief. Oh yeah, she’d look damn good in those, he decided with a smirk. They still had the tags on so, lucky him, he’d be the first to see her tight ass showcased so nicely in them.

  After a moment’s consideration, Dax threw them on the bed. Might as well make a pile of things to pack; privacy aside, if they didn’t get packed and in the truck in the next twenty minutes, the exposure risk became greater.

  The pile grew steadily, a mountain of t-shirts, hoodies, pants. More underwear, socks, and he found the matching bra to the red thong he liked so much. She wouldn’t need half of what he gathered, he knew, but they could come in handy.

  “Now just something to put them all in,” he said to himself as he scanned the room. He’d raided all her cupboards, drawers and wardrobe and seen no trace of a suitcase or carryall. His gaze dropped down to the space beneath the bed.

  Daxon fell to his knees and reached under the pretty bed, groping until he grabbed onto a handle. He pulled out a biggish suitcase, one that would maybe just contain the stockpile of clothes, and unzipped it. His laugh was wicked, dirty and oh-so amused.

  “Naughty little witch,” he murmured, and lifted the impressive vibrator—still in its original packaging—out of the otherwise empty case. “I think we can have some fun with this.”

  The damn thing must have been ten inches long, as thick as his wrist, with nubs the size of his thumbnail scattered over the ebony black surface. The box proclaimed Big D! Limited Edition Pussy Destroyer.

  Oh hell yeah. Daxon chuckled. Pussy destroyer indeed. Comparing his cock to the toy was natural, and Daxon concluded—not unhappily—that they were of a similar size. If anything, the damn toy outmatched him by an inch or two.

  “What the hell?” Baylee squeaked, mortification in her voice as she rushed toward him where he knelt on the floor, desperately trying to grab the toy from his hands. “You can’t see that!”

  “Sweetheart, it’s far too late for that. Something you’re not telling me, baby?” His arm snaked around her waist, hoisted her over his lap as he dangled the box above her. “How long have you had this monster hiding under your bed?”

  She covered her face with her hands. “It was a gag gift.”

  “Baylee, you’d sure as hell gag if you tried giving this bad boy a blowjob. Still new in the box; never been tempted?”

  “Have you seen the size of it? The girls bought me it three years ago for my birthday; I was so embarrassed I just threw it in there when I got home. It would never fit in me.”

  “I did,” he murmured in her ear. “I fit in you just fine.”

  Baylee squirmed. “Fine’s an understatement.”

  “Good to know.” One-handed, he ripped open the box and yanked the contents free. It took a moment to detangle the vibrator from the internal packaging, to insert the complimentary batteries, and then he switched it on.

  One powerful little fucker, he thought with respect. This wasn’t a cheap ten-dollar toy. This thing had a V8-engine worthy of any dream car. Vibrations rattled down his arm and made Baylee moan. He went through each of the eight settings, impressed with the range of motion and speed it possessed, then switched it off and set it onto the pile. />
  “The first hotel we come to, you have a date with me and Big D.”

  Her hands slid slowly down her face until her eyes—wide and blue as a pair of supernatural moons—blinked at him in horror. “No way in hell!”

  “You’re assuming you have a choice,” he murmured against her lips. “I’ve already told you I’m tying you up and spanking your ass before I fuck it, Baylee. Might as well get Big D in the game; I’d hate for such an impressive specimen to feel left out.”

  Apparently, he shocked her enough she could only stammer out a few unintelligible words. Delighted with her, he kissed her soundly before helping her back onto unsteady legs. “Playtime’s over. I’ve desecrated your privacy and rifled through every piece of clothing you own; if you need shower stuff, feminine stuff, whatever, get it now.”

  Still shocked, she wandered wordlessly into the bathroom, looking like he’d bashed her over the head. Whistling to himself, Daxon started stuffing things into the suitcase.

  THE MAN SCARED HER at times, Baylee thought as she gathered up shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, her hair- and toothbrush. Trying to be casual about it, she tucked a box of tampons under her arm and hoped he wouldn’t notice. From what she understood about men, the thought of women and menstrual cycles in the same sentence wasn’t exactly a turn on.

  She took one long last look around her little bathroom, wondering if she’d be back in the near future. Things between her and Brenna were calmer now; after Daxon slipped away and gave them privacy, Baylee had expressed herself in a way Bren had no choice but to understand.

  They’d decided to take the crazy route—that way, a prolonged absence wouldn’t concern anyone. It wouldn’t do her reputation any good if—when—she returned to Hangman’s Haunt, but oh well.

  Brenna had agreed to take over the apartment and Baylee’s caretaker duties for Colleen. Not a hard sell, Baylee thought wistfully. Brenna and the old lady were thick as thieves, always getting into some harmless mischief to keep Colleen’s spirits up.

  The bookstore was different. It was essentially Baylee’s baby, and needed tending to carefully to make sure it didn’t die as so many fledgling businesses did within the first few years of life. Brenna would speak to Allix and Cassie, and hopefully between the three of them, they would keep Baylee’s dream running until she could return.

  Anxiety struck her, a subtle blow. She’d never left Montana; she rarely went beyond the boundary lines of the Haunt aside from the occasional shopping/clubbing trips with the girls. A whole new world spread out in front of her, with a sexy, dominant lover as her guide.

  Baylee blew out a breath and crossed back into the bedroom, dumping the contents of her arms into the already heaped suitcase. “I think that’s everything.” Her eyes roamed over the case, double-checking. She felt heat rise up her throat and into her cheeks when she spotted that damned Big D poking out at her. “Daxon, you can’t be serious.”

  “Deadly,” he said easily, leaning his weight onto the lid and fastening it up with just a little fight against the straining zipper. He stood then, in all his naked glory, and bopped her nose with a fingertip. “Sex is fun, Baylee. Even the way I like to do it sometimes. Stop worrying and trust I know what I’m doing. Now, are you ready?”

  She nodded, mentally kissing her familiar life away. “I am. What are you planning on wearing?”

  He looked down at himself, barely contained in the purple robe, then spread his arms wide and gave her a cocky smile. “What, this doesn’t suit me?”

  Purple wasn’t really his color, Baylee thought. Bare skin, with that scattering of dark hair over his pectorals, sneaking down over his taut abdomen and leaving a handy trail that led straight to his cock...yes, bare skin was his color. She shrugged, feigning indifference, and turned away to hide her growing arousal. “A little short in the leg for you.”

  He didn’t chuckle as she’d expected him to, or make a wise-crack. She was surprised when his hands landed lightly on her shoulders and eased her around to face him. “Baylee, be honest with me. Is being with me, coming home with me, what you really want?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “It’s a huge step, leaving everything—everyone—you know.” He put his gentle, coaxing voice on and Baylee felt the barrier she’d raised against her own doubts falter under its caress. “I know you’re hungry, and tired, and I promise you I’ll rectify those problems as soon as we get out of town. But you can talk to me. You’re not alone.”

  Choked, throat tight enough to kill anything she might have said in response, she could only nod. Tears misted her eyes when he nudged a fingertip under her chin and laid his lips tenderly on hers.

  “Is Brenna still out there?”

  Baylee shook her head. “No. We’ve said our goodbyes.” Her voice squeaked out past that horrible tightness. “She understands why I have to do this.”

  He hmmm’d quietly. “Do you?”

  “Not entirely,” she admitted. “But enough.”

  “Okay then.” Dax kissed her again, then stepped back and hauled the case off the bed. “Time to go then, once I find my pants.”

  IN THE END, BAYLEE dug through a box in her wardrobe she hadn’t looked through since her grandmother’s passing. The scent of her grandparents wafted free as she tugged open the flaps and studied the contents.

  She had a dozen of these plain cardboard boxes up in the attic, the last things she had of her mother and father, of her grandparents. Memories assaulted her along with guilt. She’d tucked the boxes away safely, and locked her family away with them, unable to deal with the emotion they created within her.

  She’d come back for them, she promised herself. When she returned—if she returned—she would look through them properly, give them the acknowledgement they deserved. And if she didn’t come back...well, she’d just have them couriered to California.

  From the box, she pulled out a pair of older-styled blue jeans, clean and smelling lightly of damp. Classic cowboy jeans, she thought with a smug smile. The ones that hugged a guy’s ass like a lover. Although thinking along those lines when the jeans had belonged to her grandfather...Baylee winced a little at the mental image.

  She found a black wife-beater, a little worn at the hem, and a plaid thermal shirt in red. She smelled her grandfather beneath the damp, and remembered riding his shoulders down to the creek that ran below the family ranch. She remembered how happy they’d been, and hoped she would find that happiness again with Daxon.

  “He was about your height,” she said to Dax as she handed him the clothes, “but I think you could be broader in the shoulders.” She rummaged in the box again as Daxon dressed. She came out with a thick padded lumberjack jacket, fleece-lined for additional warmth.

  God knew they needed warmth, living in Montana in winter.

  Baylee tucked the box back into the wardrobe and rose. She had everything she needed, she decided with one lingering look around. She took Dax’s hand when he held it out, let him lead her through the apartment and down to the truck.

  He carried her heavy suitcase effortlessly in his free hand. “We’ll go an hour or so, find somewhere with food and a bed. You have circles under your eyes,” he murmured unhappily. He tossed the case on the backseat beside his own hefty bag, then shut the door quietly. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Like a gentleman, he opened the front passenger door and helped her inside, going so far as to strap her in. He sniffed at her, closing her eyes as he breathed deep. When he opened them again, he had a cocky, prideful look of awe in the green depths.

  “I smell good, pussy cat?”

  “Delicious,” he rumbled in response, then stepped back and clicked the door into place. She watched him round the hood, looking more like a cowboy in those clothes—yes, those jeans did hug his exceptional ass—and snuggled into the seat.

  “So, how long a journey are we talking here?”

  He started the engine and put the truck into gear, swinging it into a qui
ck U-turn and heading back the way they’d driven into town. “From here to the Shasta-Trinity National Forest? Traffic and variables aside, it’s a twenty-hour trip.”

  “Oh, we’re only hopping a couple state lines then,” she said in disbelief.

  “Depending on how you feel, we can take as long as you need. There’s no deadline for when we get there. If you fall asleep, I’ll just keep driving.” His shoulders slumped a fraction as they passed the Hangman’s Haunt town sign.

  “Daxon, what brought you here in the first place? We’re not exactly a tourist town and you’re not the kind of guy who tromps around looking for the authentic cowboy experience.”

  He chuckled grimly. “You’ll find out soon enough, I guess. I’m the eldest son of the current leader of the Gillies clan, which means I’m next in line to lead. I have eleven brothers and sisters, the youngest of whom is Kaiyan. He’s the one who shares the genetic defect passed down from my mother’s line. He’s only twenty-five so he’s considered the baby of the family.”

  Baylee blinked, gaped. “I beg your pardon? Eleven?”

  “Indeed. We kept our parents busy, believe me. Including me, there are seven boys. I have five sisters. We are one set of triplets, three sets of twins, and three singles.”

  Holy shit, Baylee thought sickly. Their mother must have an elastic vagina to birth so many children within...eleven years? Good God. “Multiple births run in your family, I take it?”

  “Part of our genes,” he said simply. “When shifters mate, we have a high fertility rate. Survival demands it; our numbers as a species have dropped in recent years, mainly down to juvenile males fucking around and shirking their duties to continue the line.”

  “Says the thirty-six-year-old player?”