Pleasure Me Read online

Page 2


  “Why didn’t you have any business being around me?” She faced him. “I’d like to know.”

  Until now, he’d forgotten how blunt she could be, not to mention persistent. “Simple logistics. You were fourteen, I was eighteen.” A Grand Canyon of years had separated them at the time. She might have chased after him as a woman would, but she’d barely been a teen. No man in his right mind would have pursued the relationship. Now was different. At twenty-six and thirty, their age gap was perfect, finally. So was their future together. As soon as he brought up the subject of them dating, having a good time, screwing like monkeys, mating for life, and having no end of kids. “You needed to grow up.”

  She searched his face, her own a mask suddenly, unreadable.

  He sighed. “I had to do what was right.” Surely, she could understand.

  “Right for whom? You could have been my friend and at least talked to me about stuff.”

  Not with the way his hormones had raged. He was having a hard time keeping his emotions together, fighting an overwhelming urge to drag her onto his lap and kiss her senseless. Like the guy at the next table was doing with his woman. “I could have, but I wouldn’t have been strong enough to resist what I wanted with you. Instead, I avoided the situation and left.”

  Her eyes rounded. “You’re saying you had that much desire for me and hid your feelings so well?”

  Yep. Before he’d taken off, he’d masturbated to his fantasies of her as a full-grown woman. Once she’d reached eighteen, he’d jacked off to her pictures in the fashion magazines she’d graced. If the guys in his unit had found his stash of Vogue, Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, and Glamour, he would have been toast. “I was one fucked-up dude.”

  She scooted up in her chair, hands between her knees, legs bouncing to no particular tune. “I actually ran you out of town because of what you felt?”

  “You sound happy about your effect on me.”

  “What? No.” She pushed back.

  He pointed his finger. “You’re smiling.” God, her mouth was beautiful. Like a vision from on high.

  She sobered, killing the magic. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Write a letter, send an email or something? You were thousands of miles away. You could have told me the truth then without me jumping you or you jumping me, but you didn’t. Not once.”

  “I should have, but I was young and stone-cold dumb.”

  “Not to mention rude. You couldn’t even have stopped to say good-bye, before you left, when you had one foot in the pickup with your dad revving the motor? Did you think I’d be able to catch up once you took off?”

  “Again, I didn’t think, and I should have said good-bye. I’ll regret those lost moments for the rest of my life.” Shortly after he’d left for his service, she’d pulled her disappearing act. “Did you leave because of me?”

  “Do you really need to ask?” She pressed the heels of her hands against the lip of the table. “What choice did I have? You were gone. No one would tell me what your plans were after your tour would be over. Whether you’d even be coming back. Your father and mother said I should forget you, rather than bothering them like I’d bugged you. You acted as though I had Ebola every time I was around. What was I supposed to think?”

  “You didn’t have to run away.”

  “Was I supposed to stay here and hope you’d come back? Wait until I heard about you mating with a human you liked better than anyone in this town and making a life with that woman in another city, state, or country? I overheard you bitching to your friends about being a shifter. What a downer living here was. How it would bore someone who was already brain dead. You wanted to be in the big wide world around humans. You made life with them sound so exciting I thought I’d try it, too. And I did.”

  He’d talked crap to his friends so they wouldn’t guess he was leaving because of her. He should have been straight with her back then, noticed the turmoil she’d been in. “Are you all right now?”

  She snatched back her hand before he could touch her again. “Fine.”

  He glanced at the left side of her face, part of it still hidden by her hair.

  Her cheeks and throat flushed red. “Don’t worry about me. My modeling career was over at twenty-four. I knew I was too old when my agent and the photographers started giving me the names of plastic surgeons for Botox, mini-facelifts, and the other crap to keep me looking like a tween rather than an adult. I refused to go the established route and couldn’t get a gig to save my life. Wasn’t much of an actress, either, according to the suits in Hollywood. There’s no need to worry over my looks. I never did care about them. They were simply a means to make a living, okay?”

  “Are you all right?”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Never been better.”

  Fuck, she was about to cry. “Let me help.” He scooted his chair closer. “What do you need? Tell me what you want.”

  She pushed back then stood. “Peace. That’s all.”

  She fled the bar.

  Starr was halfway across the street when another surge of sorrow and longing hit with such force, she bent at the waist to ward off her pain. The damn feelings came anyway, tightening her throat, making her want.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He’d looked better than she’d dreamed, hotter than any man had a freaking right to be, and he was nice, too, actually wanting to talk. Maybe become friends. Screw around. Fall in love. No, wait. She’d be falling more deeply in love.

  Was he deliberately trying to drive her insane?

  The bar door creaked. Music and voices spilled out.

  She bolted down the road, not wanting to be around him again. Her battered heart couldn’t take any more.

  Loud male laughter rang out. His? Directed at how she’d run? No. Had to be someone else. She slowed and looked over.

  The kissing fools from inside were outside now, both just barely of legal age to hang out at a bar. The young woman sprawled face up on the hood of a black pickup, the guy laughing again as he pushed up her tee. Snuggled between her legs, he kissed her naked belly.

  Nitwits. Didn’t they know where desire led? To hell and back with no detours into everlasting happiness.

  She sprinted away again, determined to erase Wylder from her thoughts.

  Images of him bombarded her, running through her mind like a tune she couldn’t forget. He wore his hair long these days, the wavy brown locks grazing his shoulders, framing his rough, masculine features. Drool-worthy stubble graced his chin, cheeks, and upper lip, his bronze complexion darker from the summer sun. He’d packed on muscle during the last years, his shoulders broad, biceps bruising, his tee hugging his sculpted abs. He smelled of clean skin and male musk. Pleasant yet decadent, downright intoxicating.

  When she’d first seen him at the window, sin had sparkled in his gray, lushly lashed eyes. The prize between his legs had thickened, pressing against his jeans. He was what every straight woman wanted…a guy who was hung, his cock meaty, hard, ready for trouble.

  Crap.

  She pressed one hand to her aching side, the other to her face to keep her hair from blowing back, revealing what a mess she’d made of her life. From the time she’d started noticing boys, she’d wanted Wylder to mark her, claim her as his own for eternity and all that other romantic crap.

  Kade, her ex-lover, had claimed her instead, threatening to kill her if she even thought of leaving him. She had, finally, prepared to die in order to escape. After the horror he’d put her through, closing her eyes forever would have been blessed relief.

  Right now, she simply wanted to be alone, nothing more. She didn’t want Wylder’s concern or continuing attraction to her if those were his actual feelings. Could be he felt guilty for leaving the way he had. When those emotions faded and he got over her being back in town, where would that leave her? Aching for him again while he found someone else or took off once more without warning?

  No damn way. Love was for the foolish young and masochists. Count her out.
Being a shifter was bad enough. Not belonging fully in the animal or human world totally sucked at times, while having to keep their powers a secret was no picnic either. One wrong word and every human with a gun might swoop down on the town and shoot all the residents dead. Worse, the government could haul them off for an experiment to see what made them tick, how they’d come to be.

  Too many times she’d listened to trust fund babies, starlets, models, and the money people whine about how awful their lives were. Taxes were going up. Their yacht had a scratch on the deck. Their help were too stupid to live.

  Ha. Try living with what everyone here went through.

  She rounded the corner and shuffled the rest of the way to her mom’s house, a cute one-story frame, blindingly white and clean, built with the help of Ross Luparell. Her mom had certainly needed his help, like many of the poorer pack members. Starr’s dad had died when she was still a baby. He’d been in Wyoming, helping a pack of shifters there, when a rancher had gunned him down. Her mother never mated again. For years, she’d scrambled to find jobs, working at the bar, in the convenience store, and anywhere else she could within the confines of Los Lobos. After her mate’s death, she wasn’t one to roam.

  Finally, she’d discovered her talent for making metal knickknacks and artwork. Tourists couldn’t buy enough of her designs with her creations selling in gift shops throughout South Dakota. The other pack members made deliveries for her.

  She’d survived without a mate or Starr’s help. From her first gig on, Starr had tried to make up for running away by depositing three-fourths of her earnings into an account she’d set up for her mother. Her mom always returned the funds, telling her she didn’t want the money, she needed her baby home. Not doable. Starr couldn’t stand the pain of Wylder being gone. At least in the human world, she’d stopped thinking of him so much. She’d invested her money and set up a trust fund for her mother. The one thing she had done right.

  Her only continual mistake was asking about Wylder each time she’d talked to her mom. When Starr learned of the risks he faced during his tours, she was too worried to be angry. Once he’d returned and she mentioned him then, her mother had always answered the same way. “Come back and see for yourself.”

  She hadn’t been brave enough, still wasn’t, but Kade had changed everything. If not for him, she wouldn’t be hiding out here and running into Wylder, creating more problems for herself. Crud. Her mom should have at least told her he was staying at the bar. Was it asking too much to have advance warning?

  Starr huffed out a sigh and climbed the front steps. Brass wind chimes tinkled merrily on the porch, the soft breeze helping them make music. More bells jingled on the front door, announcing her entry.

  “I’ll be with you in a sec,” her mom called out.

  “No rush. It’s only me.”

  “Baby.” Ethra hurried down the narrow hall, a dishtowel over her right arm. Her hair was long and black except for one gray streak on the right side. She was a head shorter than Starr was, but they resembled each other closely. “How did things go at the bar?”

  She shook her head. “Not good. Tanner cussed me out for causing the searches when I first left. Gee told him to shut up. When he wouldn’t, Gee broke a mug then threatened him with the jagged edges of the glass. Drew shifted and jumped on Gee’s back, biting his neck to get him to stop. You know Gee. He wouldn’t. He shifted into—”

  “You saw Wylder, huh?” Her mother arched one eyebrow. “Went badly, huh? You refused to listen to him? He couldn’t apologize enough? His explanation didn’t meet with your expectations?”

  Starr backed away from the interrogation.

  Her mom followed. “Well?”

  “All of the above, okay? I don’t want to get involved with him or any man, ever again.”

  “Aw, sweetie, you don’t mean it.”

  “Sure I do. I’m the same as you. You’ve been alone forever and you’re doing fine.”

  “I have you. And I do date occasionally.”

  “Oh yeah?” She leaned in. “Who? Do I know him? Will he mind if I call him daddy?”

  “Let’s get back to you.” She slipped her arm through Starr’s and led her down the hall to the yellow-and-white kitchen. Vanilla, cinnamon, and apples scented the cozy space, along with venison stew and cornbread.

  Given her mom’s cooking skills, she should have opened a restaurant here. Her stuff was way better than what Gee served. “How about I front you for a diner? This town could certainly use another one.”

  “I hate to cook. Sit.” She pushed Starr into a chair, grabbed her own, and faced her, their knees touching. “What did Wylder say?”

  Aw crap, they were back to him. Rather than tell another tall tale, she opted for the truth. “Too little too late.”

  Her mom glanced at the left side of Starr’s face as he had. Nothing to see, her hair hid everything.

  “Baby.” She rested her hand on Starr’s knee. “Give him a chance. He’s who you’ve always wanted.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not the same person he knew before he left. I’ll never be the way I was back then.” Trusting. Loving. Wanting. Hoping. Believing in a happy future was too damn hard. “I know what I’m doing. Please don’t bring him up again.”

  “How can you ask me to ignore what’s obviously killing you? You love the man, always have. Always will. He’s your mate.”

  “No, he’s not. No one is.” Starr pushed out of her chair and backed away. “Let’s drop it. Please.” She raced down the hall, not knowing where to go.

  Finally home again, she had nowhere else to run.

  Chapter Two

  Wylder didn’t expect Starr to return to the bar, snuggle onto his lap, and whisper sweet nothings about wanting to give their relationship a chance. However, those moments would come. They were fated to mate and he wouldn’t let her go this time. Of course, she could always avoid the inevitable by giving in to her wolf and taking off. If she chose the most remote areas of the Black Hills and was careful not to leave her scent, finding her would be like searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack. She could live undetected off the land for months or years on end until she decided to come back.

  God, love was a bitch.

  After a reasonable wait and a lot of hard thinking, he stepped outside Gee’s to call Ethra. The couple who’d shoved their tongues down each other’s throats inside was going at it out here now.

  Wylder slammed his hand on the roof of the pickup they’d chosen.

  The metal clanged. They flinched.

  He jabbed his thumb. “Get off my wheels. Now.”

  Arms around each other, they staggered to the back of the building, giggling and cuddling the entire time.

  Kids. Even dumber today than he’d been way back when. He made his call.

  Ethra picked up on the first ring. “Starr’s not here. We talked for a few minutes and she took off.”

  Crap. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Don’t worry. She hasn’t been gone long.” No way could she have gotten too far. Even if she had, her scent was still fresh enough to follow easily. “The moment I find her, I’ll give you a call.”

  “No. Don’t go looking for her. She needs space.”

  He dropped his hand. “From you? Me? Both of us?”

  “We should leave her alone.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Something metal clanged, followed by her muttered oath. “Don’t worry. She’s not going to leave again for New York, Los Angeles, or anywhere else.”

  Maybe not, but there were hundreds of miles of forestland right here for her to disappear into. Rather than bringing up the possibility, he caved. “I’ll keep my distance for now if you want, but—”

  “It’s not what I want. Starr does.”

  “For how long?”

  “She mentioned forever, but she has been known to exaggerate.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “You listen to me, Wyl
der Aaron. If you let my baby slip through your fingers this time, if you dare give up on her, ever, you’ll have me to answer to. Do you understand?”

  Hell no. He was having trouble keeping up. One minute she demanded he back off. Now, she was telling him to go for the prize. “I’m trying to, but it would help if you’d tell me what happened to her in Los Angeles to send her racing back here after so much time. All the details, not only the few you gave me. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Not for me to say. When Starr’s ready to tell you, she will.”

  He threw up his hand. “How long am I supposed to wait? Does the time run consecutively or concurrently with the days, weeks, months, or years I’m also required to give her space?”

  “Do you really want to joke about this?”

  Hell, he was on the verge of growling not laughing. “No, ma’am. But I need some direction. How much time are we talking about?”

  “As long as she needs. Don’t even consider turning tail. Make. Her. Yours.” She ended the call.

  Breathing hard, he shoved his cell phone in his pocket and stomped back into the bar for another beer, time to think, plan, keep as sane as a wolf in love could.

  Didn’t work. No matter how hard or long he tried.

  Whether he was at the bar, work, or during his days off, Wylder sniffed himself into light-headedness trying to catch her scent. She was either being very careful to remain downwind of him or she was too far away for him to detect.

  At night, he sat on the sill of his window, gazing at the land, wondering if she was out there watching him, too. The wind caressed his naked chest. She didn’t. Animals called to each other. She gave him nothing except silence.