Taking Their Mate [Wolf Packs of Fate 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4

  Keeping her gaze cast down, she eased past Dane and headed for the front door. “Thank you guys again for everything.” She hurried out of the house and was about to go down the steps when Dane grabbed her hand and pulled her around, making her look at him.

  “Stay a little while longer. They won’t fire you for being a little late.”

  Okay, said her heart. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “Then let us tell you good-bye the right way.”

  Before she knew what had happened, he’d pulled her against him, crushing his mouth to hers. At first, she didn’t do anything. Her mind went blank even as her body spun into a frantic need. When at last she could think, she clung to him, her arms slipping under his to grip his shoulders.

  His tongue swept into her mouth. Her tongue played with his. Around his tongue went, drinking up her flavors while giving her a good taste of his.

  Dane’s hand dipped lower to cup her round butt cheek. Squeezing, he pushed her even harder against him. A sound that was part moan and part growl rumbled against her chest moments before it flowed into her mouth.

  “Don’t forget about us, boss.”

  Curt tugged her away from his cousin, gave her a look filled with promises of cool nights and warm beds, then pulled her against him. His kiss was just as intense as Dane’s, his tongue just as searching, but his taste was different. His flavor was similar, but there was an added bit of something to it that was uniquely his. He held her to him, his fingers digging into her back as though he’d never let her go. Her hands rested against his solid chest and she was sure she could feel the quick thump-thump of his heartbeat under her palms.

  Her legs grew weaker the longer they kissed. Strangely, kissing them both invigorated her yet seemed to steal the strength from her.

  “Come here, baby.”

  If she’d had time, she would’ve laughed with joy when Eric mimicked the other two men and tore her away from Curt. Instead of kissing her hard and fast, however, he cupped her cheek and studied her face.

  “You’re going to be ours. You know that, don’t you?”

  Did she? Logic said she didn’t. That she couldn’t possibly know that. Not yet. But her soul, her spirit knew he spoke the truth. She couldn’t speak. Instead, she searched his eyes and, silently, told him he was right.

  “Good girl.” He leaned over, putting his mouth only inches from hers.

  She sucked in a breath, ready to hold it until the kiss was over. When the kiss didn’t come, she felt bereft, alone.

  A second later, he stole that breath away as his lips brushed over hers. She moaned, knowing he was teasing her, yet loving the sexual play. She clutched his shirt and tugged at him, urging him to really kiss her. She needed to know how his taste compared to Curt’s and Dane’s.

  His breath flowed over her lips. His scent floated into her nostrils. She closed her eyes, ready to finally have his mouth on hers.

  “Is this the kind of ranch you three are running?”

  Krystal jerked back as Eric took her by the arms and shoved her behind Dane. She leaned to the side to see the older man with his arms crossed, a strange mix of a sour look and bemused smile on his face.

  “What can we do you for, Marley?” asked Eric. “Krystal, this is our neighbor. He owns the ranch a few miles up the road. Marley Rickers, this is Krystal. She’s new in town so try not to be your usual surly grouchy self. We don’t want you running her off.”

  Marley snorted. “I ain’t going to run no one off, ’specially if she’s going to be one of your pack.”

  “One of your pack?” she whispered. But the men either didn’t hear her or ignored her.

  “Is there a reason for your visit? Or did you drop by just to flap your yap?” asked Curt.

  “I wanted to see if you had an extra fan belt for your truck. Seeing’s how we have the same kind of pickup.”

  She looked again. Where was the man’s truck? Or horse? “How’d he get there? Did he hitch a ride?”

  “An extra fan belt? Who the hell keeps an extra fan belt around?” Dane eased toward the front door. “You’ll have to check with the garage in town.”

  Marley let loose with a spat of tobacco that darkened the ground next to him. “Yeah, I thought so. Still, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check seeing’s how I’m already on the way into town.”

  “How about we check for you?” Dane shrugged. “I’ve got to run into town today anyway. Until then, why don’t I fix you up a heaping plate of some ham and fixin’s we had left over? It’ll give Margaret a rest from having to feed you.”

  Marley’s expression brightened. “Did you cook it and not one of these other knuckleheads?”

  “I sure did. Come inside and we’ll get you fixed up.” Dane motioned for Marley to follow him.

  Krystal sidestepped next to Curt as the old man passed by her, moving with a grace and ease she’d never have expected from someone his age. She smiled, but decided it was better not to speak.

  Marley, however, paused a moment, then gave her a sideways stare. “To answer your question, little lady, I didn’t hitch. I ran.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He ran? A few miles? At his age? Yet she wasn’t about to ask him to clarify his answer. Instead, as soon as he’d gone into the house, she rushed down the steps toward her car.

  There was something different about the man. Something almost… predatory. Almost as though he wasn’t merely a human, but more.

  “Hey, hold up, boss.”

  She whirled around and held up a hand, stalling Curt and Eric. “I really need to get going.”

  “Don’t let Marley creep you out.” Curt skimmed a palm along her arm. “Trust me. He’s all bark and no bite.”

  “No, he didn’t,” she lied. “But thanks again. I had a great time. See you soon, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, she slid behind the wheel of her car.

  Chapter Three

  Krystal paused with the glass in one hand and the towel tossed over her shoulder. A smile formed on her lips and she touched her fingers to them as she remembered how each man’s kiss had felt. Granted, Eric hadn’t exactly kissed her, but the slight brush of his lips had been enough to make the hairs on her arms stand up. The raw craving their kisses had stirred inside her still lingered. In fact, the more she thought about them, the more her need grew.

  “You’re going to be ours,” she whispered to herself, repeating what Eric had said. When she’d glanced at Dane and Curt, she’d seen the same yearning, yet confident glint in their eyes. As though they knew she could never turn them down.

  Could she? Did she want to find out?

  Sighing, she put the clean glass back on the shelf behind the bar. Since rushing home from their ranch and changing for work, she’d done a lot of remembering. More, she’d done a lot of fantasizing.

  What might have happened if Marley hadn’t arrived? What if they’d pulled her back inside the house? Would she have gone along with whatever might have happened next? Would they have ended up in a bedroom? Or maybe they would’ve gotten so involved that they’d never even make it to a bedroom? What if they’d had sex on the big sectional couch before Marley had arrived? What if Marley had seen them?

  Wouldn’t that have been something?

  She bit her lower lip. Would Marley spread the news that he’d seen her kissing the men on their front porch? Had he been there long enough to hear Eric’s declaration telling her that she was going to be theirs? It’s not as though she could forget about it. Although she didn’t know what they’d meant—not for certain, anyway—she sure as hell knew what she’d like their words to mean.

  “How about getting some service, baby?”

  Her mind had been on Dane, Curt, and Eric. When she pivoted around, she was surprised to find that it wasn’t Eric ordering the drink. Instead, it was a man she’d prayed she’d never see again. Her hand went to her throat as it threatened to close up with fear.

  No. Not him.

  “Denny.”

  Denny Shipley s
hot her the shit-eating grin she remembered all too well. “Yep. It’s me, baby. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  Suddenly, she wished she was anywhere but at the bar. If anyone saw her with him… Leaning forward, she spat out her words in as low a voice as possible. “What are you doing here?”

  “Aw, come on, baby. Tell me you missed me. I sure as hell missed seeing you at the Pink Pearl. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I’d have convinced you to stay.”

  Denny had been a regular customer at the strip joint where she’d worked. He’d come in every night, even in the days after she’d changed her shift to get away from him. And, every time, he’d tried to monopolize her time until, at last, she’d convinced the owner to lay down the law to him. Still, she’d had to deal with him as his waitress. Even when she’d tried switching tables with another waitress, he’d made sure he changed tables as soon as he could. She’d given up and had resorted to giving him the cold fish eye whenever she’d had to talk to him.

  “Go away and leave me alone.”

  He acted surprised, yet she knew he was faking it. God knew how many times she’d told him the same thing at the strip club. The one time she’d given into the owner’s requests to dance on stage had made her skin crawl, especially with Denny sitting front and center and showering her with ten dollar bills. Thankfully, she hadn’t taken off all her clothes. Instead, she’d run off the stage and declared never to set foot on it again.

  “Is that anyway to treat a paying customer?”

  She winced at the loudness of his tone, knowing he was trying to draw the attention of those around him. “Shut up.” Adopting a smile that didn’t come anywhere near being sincere, she said, “One drink. That’s it. Then you’re out of here and out of town.”

  Again, he feigned surprise, this time with a dose of hurt along with it. “Baby, I know you’ve got to be happy to see me.” He glanced around the bar. “You can’t be happy working here. Not with all these country bumpkins. Hell, I’ll bet you don’t make minimum wage.”

  “What do you want? Order or get the fuck out now.” She tossed a quick smile to one of the other men who was eyeing them suspiciously.

  “I’ll have a beer. In the bottle. While in Rome, you know.”

  She didn’t ask him which brand. Instead, she grabbed the closest bottle, snapped off its cap, and shoved it his way. “There. You got what you came for, now get the hell out.”

  He shoved two twenties her way. “Keep the change. I think you’re going to need it working in this dump.” But he made no move to leave. Instead, he shifted to the side and leaned against the bar so he could study the crowd and keep his eye on her. He studiously ignored others trying to get close enough to place an order.

  All too aware that too many people were watching, she did her best to remain calm. If she didn’t, she might end up smashing a bottle over his head. “Sir? Do you mind stepping out of the way so other people can get their drinks?”

  Denny caught the emphasis she’d placed on the salutation. “I like where I am.” His gaze, hinting at what he’d really like to see, slid over her. “Unless I can get a table and have you do a special dance for me. You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you, baby? For old time’s sake?”

  “Look, man, if you’re going to flirt with the bartender, do it when other folks don’t want to wet their lips. Move aside.”

  Krystal wished she knew the name of the young man pushing against Denny. If she had, she would’ve personally thanked him. As it was, all she could do was send him a grateful smile.

  “Back off. I was here first. Go find your own girl.”

  Humiliation filled her. The last thing she’d ever want to be was Denny’s girl. “Look, Denny, you need to get out of here. If you don’t—” Her gaze shifted toward Clinton, a silent plea for the big man to step in if Denny didn’t do as she’d asked.

  “If I don’t, then what? What are you going to do, baby? Call that guy? Naw, I don’t think so.” Gone was his attempt at sounding pleasant. Instead, his tone had dropped dangerously low and become menacing. He ignored yet another attempt for someone to ease him aside and grabbed her hand.

  What could she do? If she caused a scene, someone would ask questions. How did she know him? Why did she detest him so much? “Damn it, Denny. I want you out of here.”

  “Don’t go threatening me, baby. Don’t forget. I know who you really are and what you used to do for a living.”

  She jerked her arm out of his hold, but didn’t move away. “I was a waitress. That’s all.”

  “Are you forgetting about the time you danced?” His leer grew bigger. “You were pretty damn good, too. Would’ve been better if you’d stripped all the way, but I figured you were saving the good stuff for a private dance for me.”

  “Keep your voice down.” Heat flamed her cheeks. “I only danced that one time.”

  His gaze scanned the room. “Once or a hundred, it’s all the same. Besides, I’ll bet these good folks won’t care how many times it was. I’ll bet even your new friends don’t know what you did. And I’ll bet you’re not ready to tell them, are you?”

  “You don’t know anything about my friends.” How could she make him leave? If she couldn’t get him to leave, then she’d have to get out while she could. And then explain who Denny was? No. She couldn’t. She’d gone through too much to give up her new life.

  “I know all I need to know. Folks in a small town don’t like girls like you.” His whisper intensified with a mix of glee and challenge. “Won’t be any skin off my nose to fill a few of them in on your past. A town like this probably has a terrific gossip mill. Why I bet if I wanted, I could have them talking about you before the rooster crows in the morning.” He frowned as though in serious thought. “They do have roosters around here, don’t they?”

  He had her trapped as surely as if he’d slapped handcuffs around her wrists and cuffed her to him. “What do you want from me? I told you over and over. I’m not interested.”

  “I know what you said, baby, but I get what I want. A man’s just got to be patient if he wants a girl like you. Sooner or later, you’ll realize what you’re missing and want me back.”

  “I won’t. I swear to God, I won’t. Not then. Not now. Not ever.” Her resilience died. “Please, Denny, if you really care about me at all, then leave. Go back to Los Angeles. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

  “You don’t mean that. You can say it as many times as you want, but I know you. You’ll come around.”

  What did she have to do to make him understand? How could she get him away from her? If she left town, he’d follow her again. If he could locate her in a small Georgia town no one had ever heard of, then he could find her anywhere.

  “How’d you find me anyway?”

  He grinned, pride bringing his shoulders back as he stood up taller. “I have my ways. Credit cards, licenses, and”—he paused to put his finger to his lips as though only now remembering—“Dolly’s big mouth.”

  A wash of regret swamped her. Dolly, one of the girls at the club, had been one of the few people she’d told where she was going. She’d trusted Dolly to keep her secret. “What did you do to Dolly? She never would’ve told you. Did you threaten her?”

  The music grew louder, making it even more difficult to hear. Hating to do it, she leaned farther over the counter and cringed when his gaze slid down the front of her shirt.

  “Let’s just say Dolly and I saw eye to eye. Did you know she broke her arm? Strangest thing. She was outside in the alley and took an awful spill. It was just one of those freak accidents, you know?”

  She sucked in a hard breath. “You hurt her?”

  “Me? Of course not. Hell, I was there to help her up and give her enough money to make rent. It’s tough for a stripper to do her job with a cast on.”

  He’d broken Dolly’s arm to get information. She couldn’t blame her friend for giving in. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

  “Maybe so, but soon enough, I’m
going to be your fucking asshole.” He grinned again, obviously loving every minute of their conversation. “Fucking asshole. Those words have a ring to them, don’t they?”

  A chill rushed through her as she imagined, even if only for one horrible moment, Denny behind her as he shoved his cock into her ass. She’d die before she let him touch her.

  She had to get away. “Fuck off.” Trying not to run, she headed for the end of the counter.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he shouted.

  She could feel everyone staring at her then at Denny, then back to her. Keeping her gaze down, she hurried to help another customer at the other side of the bar.

  * * * *

  Who the hell’s that?

  Eric stood near the end of the bar. He’d arrived a few minutes earlier and, hoping to catch a few minutes with Krystal, he’d angled his way toward her. The place was packed and the music loud. Sooner or later, however, she’d take a break and he’d be there to pull her into his arms. The sooner he could continue what they’d started on the front porch, the better he’d feel. At least, that had been the plan before she’d been waylaid by the man at the center of the bar.

  He didn’t like the guy. Sometimes just seeing a person was enough to know. From the way Krystal was acting towards him, she didn’t like him, either. But that didn’t answer the question of who he was.

  Still, it was obvious that they knew each other. The man with the dark, greasy hair slicked back and gold rings on his fingers was more than a customer. They had history. Anyone watching them would’ve seen it by their reactions.

  His wolf growled, wanting to be set free. If he allowed himself to shift, he’d track the man and follow him. Instead, Eric shoved the beast down. Krystal didn’t know what they were and it was too soon to tell her.

  He watched their exchange, careful not to let her see him whenever she glanced around. The glint in her eyes held a fear he could almost smell even from that distance. Was the asshole bothering her? If so, he’d clue the jerk in real soon.