Chapter 2 Carys
TWO
CARYS
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. What am I doing?
Why she asked herself the question for the millionth time, she didn’t know. As far as what she was doing, she knew exactly what that was. She was gathering information on the man who took everything from her father.
Or she was trying to, but he’d just left her high and dry for two skimpily clad bimbos who looked like their combined IQ was about the same as their bra band size.
Even so, with what little time she’d spent speaking with Kansas, he didn’t seem like the ruthless man her father painted him to be. Things hadn’t been adding up with her father’s story, and that just added to her doubt.
Regardless of her gut feeling that things were not what she’d been told they were, she couldn’t go back to her father with nothing.
If she did, she had a good idea what would happen, but at the same time, she couldn’t divert her attention from the devastatingly handsome man Kansas had called Monster.
A strange sensation coursed through her body. One that was new but felt familiar somehow.
She’d finally gotten up the courage to approach Kansas with the stupid kiss line, but when she lowered her lips to his, she was trapped in Monster’s ice-blue gaze. It was so cold it was hot, or vice versa.
It had been impossible to look away. For a while, it didn’t seem like he was so much looking into her eyes as staring through them.
After Kansas left to meet his hook-ups, she felt Monster watching her while the bartender used some cheesy lines to try to get in her pants.
Yet, every time her eyes drifted to where Monster sat, he wasn’t looking at her.
She couldn’t help but take inventory of what she could see as he sat intently concentrating on his drink.
His hair brushed past his shoulders, and it suited him. It was light brown, streaked with strands of blond that seemed to catch the low ambient light of the bar.
The stubble on his sharp jawline was almost her undoing. There was something about a man without a beard but not a baby face that got her going. Admittedly, a weird thing to be attracted to, but everyone has a thing, and that happened to be hers.
Monster’s eyes were an indescribable blue. Of course, she hadn’t seen them since he pulled his gaze from hers as she ended the kiss with Kansas, but they were seared onto her memory.
Staring like a deer caught in headlights, Creedence appeared in front of him, sliding him a drink and something else she couldn’t see, or rather that she wasn’t paying attention to.
When had Creedence left, she wondered. He’d been standing there talking to her, but then he appeared in front of Monster.
She knew she should feel bad for being so disengaged she hadn’t noticed, but she didn’t. Not when she watched Monster down his drink and upend the glass on the bar. What he did next had her knees close to buckling; she gripped the back of the stool Kansas had vacated just to remain standing.
Raising his arms, he pulled a scrunchie—yeah, an honest to god scrunchie—from his wrist and twisted his hair into a messy mid-bun. Why in all things manly and masculine was that so sexy?
What she hadn’t observed while he was sitting, what she wasn’t prepared for, was his size when he stood.
Monster had at least eight inches to her five-five frame. He was all ink and muscle, but not gym muscle. He was lean but stacked. Intimidating. That was the word that came to mind.
Intimidating … but oh so tempting.
Maybe Kansas turning her down wasn’t a total loss. She felt nothing for the man or his wolf. As a matter of fact, her stomach twisted in knots as their lips met, bordering on physical pain.
Yeah, she’d clocked them the second she entered the bar. Her dad must think she inherited absolutely nothing from his DNA if he didn’t think she’d notice.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to approach him with the kiss line.
He’d mentioned Monster was his roommate, but wasn’t there some rule about messing with someone their friend just made out with in the motorcycle world? She didn’t have a clue about the lifestyle more than what she’d read in romance books or seen in television series.
However, truth be told, they hadn’t truly made out. There was no tongue, just his lips lingering on hers before she pulled away, and a look of disappointment crossed Kansas’s eyes. She felt sorry for him. He was clearly looking for his mate.
When Monster walked past, she reached out and grabbed his arm. Not sure why, or even if she wanted to, it was too late now. With the insane instant attraction she felt for the man, could she go back to his place with him and search for something on Kansas to appease her father? She didn’t think so.
One thing was sure; she didn’t want to betray the man who was currently staring down at where their skin met. But what choice did she have?
Maybe tonight could just be about her. Her wants and desires instead of someone else’s. She could maybe appease her father with the fact that she made it into Kansas’s house. That was something, right?
Too many emotions were coursing through her to think straight, and certainly too many to have her father in her mind.
Shoving everything out except her own needs, she spoke.
“Take me home?” The words were barely audible as her voice cracked.
“I’m not fucking Uber.”
Why would he …
“Oh, no.” She cleared her throat. “I mean take me home … with you.” When his eyes shot up to hers with what she thought was horror, she wanted to recoil.
“Look, if you’re chasing a patch, mine can’t be caught.”
Carys wasn’t sure, but from what she’d read, he thought she was trying to trap him.
“No strings, just um, scratching an itch.” To lighten the mood, she added with a touch of humor she didn’t feel. “I promise I won’t call you in the morning.”
God, his eyes had a gravitational pull. She felt herself leaning closer.
Her mission, her mother, her father, Kansas, everything faded into the background, everything but his spicy whiskey and woodsy scent. No matter what tomorrow may bring, or the fury from her father, she had to know what he tasted like.
One night of pleasure. One night that was about her. Just one, then she’d get back on track. Of course, seducing Kansas as her father wanted would be off the table if she did that. Who was she kidding? It was off the table when she wasn’t what he wanted her to be.
Monster’s hard eyes flicked behind her. When Carys turned to see what had diverted his attention, she saw Kansas give Monster two thumbs-up with his arms slung around the two girls from earlier.
Apparently, that was the encouragement Monster needed.
One hand shot out, lightning-fast, and gripped her throat, demanding her undivided attention.
He stared into her eyes as if he were looking for something.
He must’ve found it because he dropped his lips to her so violently it ground her tender skin into her teeth.
Before she could peel them back, he's ended the brutal kiss.
Stunned, she ghosted her fingers across her tingling lips. A telltale tingle. Her mind was swirling.
“Come,” he ordered gruffly, as his eyes seemed to flash a golden yellow color. Then strode toward the door.
Carys had to speed-walk to keep up. When he got to the door, instead of continuing outside, he held it open for her.
“After you.”
His transition from caveman to gentleman was startling.
It felt like his dual nature was at odds. One civilized and controlled, and one wild and feral.
His wolf.
The combination was whiplash-inducing but orgasmic.
She hadn’t spent a lot of time with shifters since her mother left her father. She’d been too young to remember more than snippets.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she passed.
As Carys eyed the row of motorcycles parked next to the building in the reserved area, she wondered which one was his.
Monster wrapped his arms around her from behind, crossing them over her waist and caressing her hips. She felt completely enveloped by him and his intoxicating scent. When he tugged her earlobe between his teeth, her knees went weak.
“Which one is you, Pixie?” He purred against her neck between nips. God, she couldn’t think with his mouth on her.
“Um, the blue one.”
His chuckle was rich and deep. “Which blue one, babe?”
“Th-that one.” She pointed to her pride and joy. At least she hoped she did. She was drunk from just one diet soda and his lips on her neck. Focusing was impossible.
But oh, how she wanted to. She wanted to remember every moment of the night, every moment with that man, because if he ever realized why she’d been in the bar in the first place, he’d never speak to her again.
So much doubt swamped her, but none of it was in her choice to go home with Monster. Every fiber of her body was telling her he was special.
He led her to her car with a gentle hand on the small of her back. It was in such opposition to the man who grabbed her throat and smashed his lips into hers.
Carys stood mutely as he took the keys from her hand to unlock her door.
“That’s me.” He pointed to a totally blacked-out bike that matched him perfectly. Of course, that one was his. “Follow me to the clubhouse.”
Clubhouse? His pronouncement sent a surge of panic up her spine. It was one thing to go to a private residence with an agenda—it was quite another to go to an MC clubhouse with one. The fact that she’d abandoned her dad’s plan would be irrelevant. Intent was everything.
If her father realized she’d gained access to the clubhouse, she would never get out from under his thumb. He’d use her and use her until there was nothing left. Somehow, she knew that to be a fact, even though he’d never said as much to her face.
“We’re not going to your place?”
“It is my place, Pixie. Plus,” he cupped her ass and ground his erection into her, above where she wanted it, needed it. “We can be there in five minutes.”