Beast Within (3 page)

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks. I’ll,” he gestured at his lower body
with his towel-covered cock insisting on making its presence known, “get some
clothes on.”

Belatedly it occurred to him. “Thank you for the clothes and
shaving stuff.”

“You’re welcome. I worked in uniform supply for a while when
I first did my compulsory service. I’m used to eyeballing a person and
guesstimating the sizes.”

“What else did you do in service?” He didn’t think she had
learned all that self-defense and ease of armament handling passing out
uniforms and skivvies. In these days of mandatory military service, no
exemptions at all—those belonged to his grandfather’s generation of the 1960s,
support jobs were normally held by those unable to do the actual fighting.

Her mouth lifted in a grin. Dylan found himself enchanted by
a dimple that popped into view by the corner of her mouth.

“The Hellcats.”

Hot damn. He knew this woman embodied the spirit of the
Norse goddess Brunhilde. Dylan bowed. “Well, hell, no wonder you kneed me in
the nuts when I touched your rifle. I’m lucky you didn’t cripple me for life.”

“I did pull my kick a bit. Sorry about that happening. But
the training automatically took over. No one takes a weapon from an Amazon
without her permission.”

“This Special Forces mud foot is honored to meet one of the
goddesses of the First Amazon Division. I no longer bear the humiliation of
being smacked down by a girl. You ladies sure wreaked havoc in the Middle
East.”

She shrugged. “It’s easy to infiltrate wearing a
hijab
.
Plus the men aren’t expecting a woman to fight them, even though numerous women
in their culture have been used for human bombs. Cultural prejudices work both
ways.”

“When I woke up a bit ago, I actually had this fleeting
thought you’d almost crippled me because you were afraid I was going to rape
you.”

“Oh, please.” She gave him the look his sisters and girl
cousins gave him when he said something stupid. “No one can rape an Amazon. We
might use sex to get opposing factions’ intel, but no one rapes an Amazon.
Besides, rapists have a different attitude to sex. You didn’t take. You asked
without words and you shared.”

Thank God he was forcing himself to take this a bit slower
than he wanted. Unlike the females with whom he just shared a quick wham-bang,
she was receptive to the gentleman his mom and women relatives had tried to
build in him. “Well, at the time I didn’t know you were an Amazon, much less a
Hellcat. So, it did worry me. But logically, I realized you wouldn’t have
brought me into your home if you thought I was a rapist.” Dylan met her eyes.
“I figured if you thought I was, you would have, at the very least, had me
arrested. More likely though.” Dylan met her eyes. “I figured if you thought I
was, you would have at the very least had me arrested. But considering your
arsenal…” Dylan stopped and lifted his eyebrows at her.

Her answering grin was sharp and wicked. “I would have shot
you, starting at your cock and disposed of the body.”

Dylan found himself laughing with Haley. “Hey, speaking for
me and my cock, we’re really glad you decided not to shoot us. Are you going to
demand I be your sex slave since you spared my life?” Because I plan to make
you my mate. Since you’ll be my slave, I’ll be yours.

She fingered her full skirt as though she didn’t know what
to do with her hands. Her breathing hitched and she studied the decorative
carpet runner in the middle of the hardwood floor.

Aww, was she shy all of a sudden? Amazing. Especially
considering she’d had no qualms this afternoon in the brushy area of the
national park. Time to ladle on some more sweetness before they got down and
dirty again. It wasn’t difficult at all to be sweet to this lady who had
already done so much for him. Dylan smoothed a hand up her arm and discovered
how pleasant it was when she moved closer to him.

As he slid his hand across her shoulder’s silken skin, he
paused at his mark he left on her. “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t realize how
hard I bit you.” He leaned in closer and kissed it.

“It’s fine,” she answered, a bit breathlessly.

She stepped closer to him and Dylan realized this time he
was against the wall. But he held a double armful of curvy woman in his arms so
he wasn’t going to complain a bit.

With his teeth, he untied her dress’ spaghetti strap and
continued to nuzzle across her shoulder to her neck. He cupped her head with
one hand, enjoying the feathery softness of her hair through his fingers. His
other hand coaxed the top of her dress down to mound a full breast in his palm.

She moved her face so her mouth met his. Once again, he
delved into her welcoming wet darkness. He thumbed her nipple and was rewarded
by her groan vibrating through her mouth.

She flicked off his towel and grasped his straining cock. He
managed to keep himself under control, untied her other strap and held both her
naked breasts while not taking his mouth from hers. He plucked and teased her
nipples while she firmly stroked him or feathered her fingers against his
balls.

Just as he began to hunger to suckle her breasts, she pulled
her mouth from his and slithered down his body. To his shocked delight, she
knelt and took his cock, inch by smooth inch, into her mouth.

He jerked with pleasure at her supple tongue curling around
one side, then the other. She lightly scraped her teeth across him, then
suckled him deeply.

Dylan flexed his hands on her shoulders, then grasped her
tightly as she alternated the speed of her sucking. Her fingers busily flicked
and squeezed his balls.

He thought he was going to explode and pressed his ass and
back hard against the wall in an effort to gain control. He didn’t want to come
without her experiencing this ecstasy too. “Wait,” he managed to gasp out.

She sat back on her heels and smiled up at him with the
sheer smugness of a woman who knows the strength of her power. Her beautiful
breasts hung temptingly over the folds of her dress.

Dylan scooted down the wall and drew first one nipple, then
the second into his mouth. His mate’s skin tasted like ripe peaches, but he had
to—needed to—taste her flowing cream. Still savoring her breasts one at a time,
he laid her back onto the rug centered the length of the hallway.

As he flipped her skirt up and began to position himself to
eat her, she said, “Hey! I wasn’t finished with you. Twist around, sex slave,
and let me enjoy you.”

With a laugh, Dylan did what she ordered, then settled
between her thighs to enjoy her.

He buried his nose into her crotch. The scent of her alone
was enough to send him into a mini-orgasm and he felt his first spurt shoot
into her mouth. She sucked greedily, as though he’d produced the finest taste
she’d ever encountered.

While she suckled him, he began to lick her thong, tasting
her, learning her folds through the silk. This was the taste he’d hungered for
in his dreams at Hell Hospital. This scent, this taste, this woman gave him a
focus for life.

He nudged the bit of wet silk aside with one finger and drew
his tongue through her curls, cherishing their springy texture. Leisurely, he
stroked between her folds, enjoying her cream as it flowed.

Her mouth had amazing suction while her fingers squeezed and
flicked his balls. When she put pressure on his butthole, he had barely enough
thought to wonder why she didn’t put in her fingers. Then she slapped his butt
and all his thoughts gibbered with the intensity to mate.

Dylan pulled her thighs further apart. When she gave a small
yip, he loosened his grip slightly, well aware his strength might have left
bruises. He buried his face into her woman’s perfume and cream, then drove his
tongue into her.

Pulling her knot deep into his mouth, he sucked and nibbled
on it the way she was him. She began to quiver, then her thighs clamped tightly
around his face. He increased his pressure and lapped her cream.

Her quivering turning into shaking. Her moans vibrated
against his cock. The added sensation had his balls clenching.

As her orgasm sent her into frantic pulsing against his
face, his own balls exploded. He pumped himself into her mouth and swallowed
her cream while she sucked him dry.

They lay on the carpet, breathing heavily and still occasionally
nuzzling each other. To Dylan’s embarrassment, his stomach growled.

She laughed. “I think you need food.”

She pulled herself away, then stood upright and adjusted her
bodice.

“Aw, did you have to do that? I was enjoying the view.” His
stomach rumbled again.

“You can enjoy them later.” She put her hand down. When he
put his hand in hers, she gave a pull and helped him to his feet. “For now, I
think you need to be fed and we need to talk.”

On her palm, Dylan again felt the texture of temp skin. He
turned her hand to see her palm, then traced over the artificial skin with his
index finger.

“How did this happen? And don’t give any guff about a
jaguarondi.”

She pulled her hand from his. “We’ll discuss it after you’ve
eaten. Bacon and eggs? Or do you want something more substantial, like a
steak?”

“A steak?” His mouth watered at the thought of a steak,
cooked to perfection, the juices running on the plate.

“Steak it is then,” she said with a laugh.

Dylan ran his tongue over his lips to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

“How do you want it?”

“Rare.” He barely stopped himself from licking his mouth
again. He thought for half a second he felt his canine teeth turning in fangs.
Oh joy. Bad enough Hildy kept talking about a jaguarondi. All he needed to
completely lose his mind was to imagine himself turning into a vampire. Just
put a stake through him right now. On second thought, he’d wait on that until
he had a steak in his belly. Maybe then the world would make sense
.

“You’ve got it. Why don’t you get dressed?” She turned to
leave him, then looked over her shoulder. “Hey, mud foot.”

“Yes, Hildy?”

“Hildy?”

Oh, shit. His nickname for his goddess just slipped out.

“Sorry. Um,” Now how to extract his foot? Might as well be
honest. “This afternoon, I thought of you as Brunhilde the Norse Goddess. Hildy
just kind of fits you.”

“Interesting. My name’s Haley.”

“Thank you, Haley. I’ll try not to call you Hildy again.”

“As you wish.” She shrugged. “And will you be Mud Foot?”

“Dylan. Dylan Thomas Gomez. And yes, before you ask, my mom
is a poet. I ate up his poetry with my pabulum.”

“Makes sense to me.” Haley grinned at him. “I’ll have your
steak ready in a few. Join me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

“Smug as a cat in the cream,” he said to his grinning
reflection in the bathroom’s mirror. He saw the chunk of plastic funky earring
had been removed from the top of his ear. Idly, he wondered what it had been.

Dylan looked around the room and realized nothing in the
room indicated even a casual male presence. With a mirrored tray covered with
partially filled bottles of various perfumes to the thick flowered towels,
fruity scented shampoo and liquid soap, the bathroom was definitely a girly
girl’s haven. She had obviously bought the guy-type bar soap and unscented
shaving cream for him when she bought the jeans, t-shirt and other things. He
tore off tags and ripped open packages of socks and his choice of boxers or
briefs. A quick check proved even the tennis shoes were the right size.

What a woman. She knew how to coddle a man in addition to
being sexier than a real-life pinup.

He held the briefs in one hand while he checked the aching
place in his thigh. He didn’t know if Haley or someone else had treated him,
but he was pleased the bullet hole seemed to be healing cleanly.

His hand drifted to his cock.

His shaft wanted satisfaction again. Now. “Too damn bad,” he
snarled as he jerked on the briefs. “You’re just going to have to wait until I
get something to eat.

After he finished dressing, he walked into the kitchen to
see Hildy—Haley, he had to remember her name—using a pair of long-handled tongs
to lift a steak from the oven’s broiler and set it on a plate she held with an
oven mitt. She dropped the tongs in the sink, then carried the plate to set it
on a quilted placemat where a smaller plate held a baked potato and a shallow
bowl held a large, crisp salad.

“Hi, Dylan. Just in time. Help yourself.” This time instead
of soothing him, her voice made his shaft twitch.

He thought how great she sounded moaning his name, inviting
him to help himself to her body.
Stop it. You’re more than a dick.
He
focused on how damn long it had been since a woman took the time to cook for
him. He’d almost forgotten the enjoyment of having a meal in the company of a
beautiful woman. He marveled again at Haley’s thoughtfulness. He’d spent too
much time with evil. Being in Haley’s home was a small slice of heaven. Haley
was an angel for giving him a small measure of peace in the horror that had
been his life recently.

Hastily, he blinked his stinging eyes, almost convincing
himself his eyes were watering because of the pepper Haley was grinding over
his salad. He managed to pick up the knife and fork beside the plate. “Thanks.
It smells and looks great.”

The knife slid through the steak like butter. The juices
spilled from it. He took firm control over himself to not bury his mouth in the
meat but be civilized and carry the bite to his mouth on the fork. He ignored
the weird way his teeth felt and concentrated on not biting his tongue.

By the time he finished the meal, his stomach had settled
down although his damn cock throbbed painfully against his zipper.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you. Oh, and thank you for taking that chunk of
plastic out of my ear. I assume you did it?”