Pleasure Me (7 page)

At last, he released her. She sucked air, eyes glassy, cheeks a dark pink. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

She grabbed his wrist and pressed his knuckles to her cheek. “This is hard for me.”

“I won’t judge, I swear. If I say one wrong word, you have my permission to chew off my balls.”

She laughed softly. “I’d rather lick them.”

“Later. Promise.” He ran his thumb over her cheek. “What happened?”

She glanced away then met his gaze once more. “The usual when a man abuses a woman.”

“You mean you getting hurt?”

“I’m talking about how everything started. I was lonely and unsure of myself. He was so intense and into us, I wasn’t scared like other women would have been. I was thrilled he’d never leave me.”

As Wylder had. A pang of sorrow hit him hard, cramping his belly.

“I met him on set in Hollywood. He’s a stuntman. A shifter, too.”

“From here?”

“No.” She lowered his hand to her thigh. “Being with one of our kind made everything seem nice and uncomplicated to me. Dating a human was always dicey. I was afraid I’d say or do something to give myself away. When I was in New York, I’d go to the more remote areas of Central Park and shift for nightly runs. There were too many people everywhere. I felt trapped, unable to breath, and had to take off. LA was crowded, too, but different. At least there’s space there. I could run as much as I wanted in the hills. After he and I hooked up, we ran together. Those times were almost like being home.”

One she’d escaped because Wylder had left her here without even saying good-bye. His belly ached again.

“Kade was unbelievably attentive. At first, I thought his devotion was a good thing. He didn’t want me driving around at night by myself. Too dangerous, he said. Then he started going with me to the grocery store, the hair and nail salon, everywhere finally, citing statistics on carjackings, muggings, serial killers, you name it. He didn’t control me right away. His obsession started slowly. I didn’t notice at first because he always seemed concerned for my welfare. I didn’t realize anything was wrong until things got crazy.”

She covered her eyes with her hand.

He wanted to gather her close but was afraid to move, not knowing how she’d react. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Whenever he was away on a shoot or on set, he had me checking in with him every hour even if he couldn’t take the call. He expected me to leave a voicemail or a text. For my own good, he said. Didn’t satisfy him for long. Next, he told me I wasn’t to go outside, not even in the yard of the house we shared, unless he was around. By then, I was history in modeling and acting. I wasn’t needed anywhere. Still, I laughed. Honestly, I thought he was joking. He slapped me so hard, he split my lip. Before I even tasted the blood, he was on his knees, apologizing, begging me to forgive him, promising he’d never touch me in anger again.

“Two weeks later, what he said was history, forgotten. I should have left, but, for some reason, I couldn’t move or consider anything except keeping him happy, making sure I didn’t set him off. Anything could. Things went downhill fast. One day when we were out, he had people come in to change the locks without telling me. He had the only key. That night, he boarded up the bedroom windows on the outside. I started to cry and asked what he was doing. He told me I was going to stay in the bedroom whenever he was out of the house. For my safety, of course, from the predators out there.” She flung her hand.

“Unfortunately there wasn’t any protection from him. There was no landline for me to call anyone. He’d already canceled my cellular service. I didn’t even have a computer I could use to email or text anyone. I told him my mom would worry if I didn’t stay in contact with her. He said he’d handle things and sent her emails from my account, pretending to be me. When he was in a generous mood, he showed me printouts of what she’d written and how he answered her, laughing about how easily she believed he was her daughter.

“He cut me off completely from the outside world. That still didn’t stop his rants. Whenever he returned after a shoot, he accused me of wanting to escape. Who the hell wouldn’t want to get out of there? What he did was nuts, but I couldn’t see a way to be free. One time he was away for a week on a gig. The food he left in the bedroom ran out, I panicked worse than I ever had. I beat the lock on the door with the base of the brass lamp. The lock wouldn’t budge. I pulled one of the towel racks off the bathroom wall and tried to break the bedroom windows. He must have had super-thick glass installed without me knowing it. They didn’t even crack.

“Rather than worry about dying of starvation, I dreaded him knowing what I’d done and tried to put things back together as they had been before he left. No way could I hide the gouges I’d put in the door. When he saw them, he said if I ever tried to escape again, he’d kill me. And then, he shifted. He didn’t do so often. The change was agonizing for him, not easy like you and I experience. He hated what he considered my superiority in that over him. He told me if I ever shifted without his permission, he’d tear me apart.

“I should have shifted that day, but I was too afraid to move even when he lunged at me. I thought he was going to rip out my throat, no matter what he’d said about a next time. He gouged the side of my face with his claw and bit off the top of my ear. ‘Now, I’ve marked you,’ he said. ‘You’re mine forever. No one else will ever want a thing as ugly as you.’ I passed out. The next thing I knew, I was on the bed with one of those doctors to the stars treating me. You know the kind. They give out pills like candy and take care of embarrassing stuff to keep the public or police from knowing what really happened to their favorite celebrities.

“For months afterward, Kade didn’t let me out of the bedroom, not even when he was in the house. I broke down emotionally and surrendered like one of those hostages you read about. Did whatever he wanted. Never questioned or complained. I thought I’d die there. I wanted to, rather than going on as things were. As the months passed, he finally trusted me enough to let me eat with him in the dining room or kitchen. To watch TV in the family room. I kept quiet, not pissing him off.

“One day when he was home and I was in the kitchen making lunch, the doorbell rang. One of the crew on a movie he was doing. He’d turned off his cell phone and pager, missing the message to come back to the lot. As he and the guy talked at the door, I acted on pure instinct, shifting and running past them to the outside. I knew Kade couldn’t catch me when he was in human form, and he wouldn’t dare risk discovery of what he was by shifting in front of a coworker. Hell, he would have had to kill the guy to keep him quiet. No way would he have been able to get away with murder.

“I spent the night in the hills. The next day I searched campsites for food and clothes. When I was dressed, I ran to the first populated area I could find, bummed some change, and called my mom. She arranged for me to come home. That’s it. Everything.”

Wylder pushed to a sitting position. “Does Kade know you’re here?”

“No. I never mentioned Los Lobos. I kept the secret.”

“Where did he think you grew up?”

“From the time I began modeling, I told everyone I was from New York. Homeless since I was fourteen, when my mom couldn’t take care of me or herself any longer, and I didn’t want anyone asking me stupid questions about my painful past. Thankfully, no one did.”

“Will he come looking for you?”

Her face turned white. “How could he? He doesn’t know the town exists.”

Something nagged at the back of his mind but Wylder couldn’t pinpoint the thought. “Where is he from originally? LA? Somewhere else? What’s the address of the house you guys shared?”

She scooted back on the grass. “No. I do not want you going out there and doing anything to him. You could get caught.”

“Not if the authorities never find his body.”

“What?
No.
This is why I don’t want to get involved with you.” She stood.

So did he. “Baby, we’re already involved.”

She slapped his hands away. “Not like you want. This is about sex, nothing more. Having a good time. Do you understand me?”

He tempered his frustration and concern, keeping things easy to avoid spooking her. “Yeah. We’ll do things your way.”

“Swear to me you won’t leave here and try to do anything to him. No—wait. Swear to me you will
never
do anything to him or go within a thousand miles of where he is. I want your word.”

Shit
. He gave it.

“I have to go.” She shifted and took off.

Starr shouldn’t have told him about Kade but she trusted Wylder not to break his word. He was a good man. The freaking best. Her scar had shocked him but he wasn’t repulsed. Respect and tenderness had shone on his beautiful face.

Love, too.

At fourteen, she would have been over the moon to have him give her such a response. At twenty-six, she was far more cautious, worrying whether she had a right to love him in return. If they’d ever actually be together. Despite the town’s hidden location, she kept expecting to see Kade racing toward her, ready to pounce, his face ugly with hate. At times, she thought she smelled his scent, her mind playing tricks. Until she was free of the past, she couldn’t move forward with Wylder into the future. Wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

“Sweetie, I need to get to the press.”

“Sorry.” She stepped back to let her mom pass.

The workshop smelled of paint her mother had applied to a metal wall hanging of stylized starbursts, the purple and silver colors streaked with gold. Next to it was a piece with bobbing flames in gold, red, and, silver. Torches, a welder, grinder, and other stuff littered the long wooden tables, looking more like instruments of torture than tools.

Her mom gestured to the metal pieces next to the press. “Ready for your next lesson?”

“No.”

“Come on. You can learn to do this if you try.”

Nope. She was hopelessly uncreative. “Wylder should be doing this, not me. His candy tree was epic.”

“Have you talked to him recently?”

Not for a few days. Probably for the best given how she’d bolted from him, like he used to do with her. Maybe there would come a time when neither of them ran, or if they did, they’d race toward each other rather than away. “We’ll talk, I’m sure.”

And a whole lot more.

Despite her caution, Starr ached for his touch, rumbling voice, scent, and strength. “You should suggest he do this.”

“I’m happy with him delivering the pieces for me, along with some of the other guys in town.”

“Hey, I could do deliveries and he could do this.”

Her mom pulled two Dove squares out of her jeans’ pocket and tossed one to Starr. “You could go with him when he delivers my orders, make sure the paperwork is good. He has a run this Saturday.”

“I’ll probably be busy.”

“Doing what?”

“How about helping you? You should teach a class in this.”

Her mom studied a square of aluminum, one in copper, and another in brass. “The kids don’t want to study subjects they’ll actually need. I doubt they’d like this.”

“I’m not talking about classes at the pack schoolhouse. I meant Sioux Falls University.”

She made a face. “The school’s six hours away. You know I don’t travel.”

“Who said you had to? You could video conference or Skype, whatever works. You could do online tutorials without leaving this workshop. It’s great advertising for you. This is totally doable with the updates Roland made to the cell towers and the Wi-Fi infrastructure. I could set things up.”

She looked queasy. “I don’t think so. We might risk the town’s safety.”

“Mom, please.” She rested her hands on the woman’s narrow shoulders. “You wouldn’t be revealing anything except how to make this stuff, like you’re trying to teach me—which, by the way, I really don’t want to do. The camera would only show you and this workshop, not an address, phone number, or route into town. I could be your publicity and marketing director. You could make a ton of money.”

“I already have several tons with the trust fund you set up and refuse to take back for yourself.”

“Come on, at least think about it.”

She screwed up her mouth. The phone rang. “Saved by the bell.”

Starr craned her neck to see the display.
Unknown
was on the screen. Her stomach twisted. “Don’t answer.”

The phone rang again. “Why not?”

“Have you been getting a lot of unknown calls since I got back?”

“No. I’ve been getting them for years from salespeople wanting to know if I need dental insurance, an extended warranty on my car, if I’d like a magazine subscription. I get their company name and put them on the no-call list so they quit bothering me. I’m unlisted. They shouldn’t even have access to my number.” She answered the call. “Hello?” After a moment, she frowned.

Starr mouthed, ‘Who is it?’

Her mother lifted one finger to her and spoke to the caller. “Wait a sec. I didn’t get your name or the company’s. Can you repeat them?” She grabbed a pencil and wrote down Sally and the name of a dental plan. “Thanks. By the way, Sally, I’m on the no-call list. I’m reporting you immediately to the FTC. Have a nice day.” She hung up. “Are you worried Kade will come after you?”

Always. Her fear of him hadn’t waned a bit despite Kade not knowing about this place or the pack. “No.”

“Can he find you through my emails? Is that why you had me change the address?”

“I did so because he knew it. He doesn’t know anything else about us. I never told him. He certainly hasn’t a clue this place exists. Will you, at least, consider what I proposed about doing classes? If you’re totally opposed, I could still make myself useful by delivering stuff for you.”

“Not without Wylder. I mean it. You can go with him Saturday.” She smiled. “I’m sure he’d love to have you along.”

***

Despite having made love with Wylder like a rutting animal and having bared her soul to him afterward, Starr didn’t know what to say on the ride to their stop. A touristy shop two hours outside of Los Lobos. Her mom’s creations were in the bed of a dark-blue pickup he’d borrowed, the metal designs crated to avoid any harm.