Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Breezy wanted to laugh at the surprise in Xan’s dark eyes. She loved how his eyes would shift from dark brown to alpha blue, depending on his mood. Right now, he was clearly puzzled as to why she wasn’t falling at his feet.
“I’ll be out in a few.” She shut the door, leaning on it with a quivering sigh.
Of course, she didn’t want him to see the scars crisscrossing her back thanks to Mommy Dearest. A shudder had her tightening the grip on the plush red towel.
Everyone thought she always wore a corset or snug-fitting tanks to look sexy, which she sorta did.
But they also covered the scars that had never healed from the numerous beatings her dear, sweet, crazy ass of a mama had done before her father had figured out what was going on.
Yeah, she definitely didn’t want to see what the perfect Xan, second to the alpha of the Iron Wolves, the man who could walk around buck-ass naked, would think of her and her scars.
Nope, she would just keep him and all men from seeing her in the buff, along with everyone else.
If he thought she was a whore, then so be it.
Well, that didn’t seem to be working as a deterrent any longer.
She may need to come up with a boyfriend.
Biting her lip, she slipped into the clothing he’d given her, inhaling to make sure there were no other female scents on the items. God, how she hated seeing the swinging door of women he’d screwed.
Hated the stories of Kellen and him and their penchant for sharing their conquests, or the descriptions of women bouncing on their cocks.
Not that she wouldn’t love to do that and so many other things to Xan’s impressive dick.
Her face heated, while her nipples hardened at the image.
Ignore him he’d said. She snorted. “It’s kinda hard to ignore a third leg poking into your ass. ”
“You say something?” Xan yelled through the door.
Covering her face with her hands, she looked into the mirror.
Her eyes didn’t appear to be dilated, which was good.
After the hit she took from the accident, she worried she might have had a concussion.
Werewolf genes were good. The knot on the side of her head had already shrunk to a small bump, the cut not needing stitches.
The amount of blood that had washed down the drain would’ve been alarming had she been human.
The pale complexion she wrote off as aftereffects of the scare. “I said I’ll be out shortly.”
His husky laugh boomed through the door.
Not having time to properly dry her hair, she ran her fingers through the wet mass, then opened the door to find the object of her deepest fantasies sitting on the edge of his big king-sized bed.
The dark wood furnishing drew her attention to the heavy posts at each end, and she couldn’t help but think of the things she’d read in books about being tied up with her arms and legs attached to each end, spread-eagled and at his mercy.
“Don’t look at the bed like that or we won’t make it out of this room,” he rumbled, voice deeper than normal.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”
He chuckled. “You’re the first I’ve ever had here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
Xan snagged her wrist. “I mean it. I would not lie to you.”
She turned her head, holding his gaze. “You’re being for real?”
Xan pulled her between his spread thighs. “I’ve no reason to lie. Besides the fact I never wanted to bring a woman into my home and give her false hopes, I liked having a place to escape. This is it.” He waved his arm in a wide arc, and with the other, he secured it around her waist.
The height of the bed meant she was at eye level with him. His eyes flashed to blue, an indication that he was having deep emotions. “I won’t disturb your space.”
He groaned, burying his nose in her wet hair. “Fuck me, you are going to drive me insane.”
“Too late for that.” She teased.
“Hmm, you think you’re funny.” He glanced at her breasts.
When she tried to cover the hardened tips, he grabbed both arms and held them by her side, his thighs tightened on hers. A wicked look entered his eyes, and then his head bent, his mouth with the sharp teeth latched onto one tip. Her back arched of its own accord, pushing forward.
“Oh, god.” She was glad his legs were holding her up.
He tugged and then, seeming impatient with the material in his way, pushed the sweatshirt up, latching onto her left breast. Her hand grabbed the back of his head, holding him to her.
The sensation was foreign, yet so damn erotic she was sure she was on the verge of coming.
He switched to the right nipple, giving it the same treatment, biting and sucking, and licking in a torturous dance of his mouth. She didn’t know what to concentrate on.
The hand at her lower back moved up, and then his mouth was gone.
Her eyes flew open, on the edge of coming, when he turned her around.
Breezy was confused, feeling at a total loss, until the sweatshirt was ripped in two.
Xan’s growl and hot breath on her back had her crossing her arms over her front, desperately trying to hold the borrowed top in place.
Twisting in his grip to no avail, she let her chin drop to her chest. Shame filled her. She’d no longer need to make up a boyfriend.
“Who the fuck do I need to kill?”
She kept her lips clamped shut. The secret she’d kept for her entire life, one her father said was dirty laundry and not to be told to the pack.
Warm lips traced across her back, startling her. “Bella, answer me. I swear by all that is within me, I will hunt down the bastard who did this and gut him. I will cut off his nuts and feed them to him.”
A sob escaped. “She doesn’t have any nuts. I mean, I don’t think she does, unless she’s cut them off someone and is wearing them around her neck as a trophy.” The last bit came out in a hysterical laugh.
He turned her back around, his big arms still controlling her, and placed her on one of his thighs. “Who is she? Why didn’t you heal?” Shifters healed from almost all wounds without a sign of injury unless silver was used, or the shifter was young.
Breezy looked into his blue eyes, the murderous intent clear.
“My mother, and before you ask, I didn’t do anything to warrant them.
I was a child, and if she was in a mood, I got a lashing.
If she didn’t get her way, I got a lashing.
If the wind blew wrong, I got…” He put his mouth over hers.
Tears were tracking down her cheeks. The memories of all the times her mama would grab a switch, or a belt, or whatever she wanted to beat her with, flashed before her eyes.
Xan’s minty breath filled her. His tongue licked inside her mouth, coaxing hers into a dance she’d imagined a thousand times.
A knock sounded on the closed door, and Xan growled against her lips. “We’re fucking busy.”
“I don’t give a mother fuck. Get your ass out here. You best not be bumping uglies either, all the while I’m out here being a good guest and not drinking your best bourbon.” Kellen yelled through the door, banging again as his booted feet gave a solid kick against the door for good measure.
“We will put a pin in this convo and pick back up where we just left off.” Xan stood, placing her on the rug. “You’re gonna need another shirt. I hope Lyric didn’t like that one.” He smiled.
Breezy held the top in front of her. “I’ll replace it.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. God, she didn’t want to see his pity.
“You’re so damn beautiful. If I could, I’d tell Kellen to go fuck himself and rip every stitch of clothing from your body. Alas, he’d just barge in here, kick my ass, and then he’d see you naked. I’d then have to rip his eyes out, kick his ass, and then we’d start all over.” He shook his head.
Her mouth fell open. “Are you high, or just crazy?”
Xan looked puzzled. “Why? You think those little scars are ugly? Baby, those are nothing. They piss me off because someone dared to hurt you, but they don’t make you any less gorgeous.
” He grabbed her hand and placed it over his dick.
The large erection jumped under her fingers.
“Believe me, I have wanted you for years, and seeing those faint silvery lines doesn’t change a damn thing. ”
Those faint silvery lines he talked about were over a dozen that crisscrossed her back in no apparent pattern.
Some had faded to nothing over the years, but the deeper ones had stayed even after all the shifting.
She hated them and hated her mother. Her father didn’t have a clue what was happening to her until he came home early from work one afternoon, finding her stretched out on the picnic table with her back a bloody mess.
Her mother stood over her with a willow branch in her hand, covered in blood.
She’d told her father Breezy had run off into the woods and hidden without telling her where she was, hiding for hours and making her worried.
When he’d knelt next to her, brushing her wet hair back from her face, she tried to lie and say her mother was being truthful.
However, the pain was too immense. Usually, she’d had hours to heal before he’d seen her, and she hid the abuse, as her mama had told her.
But this time she’d looked into his amber eyes, eyes just like her own, and couldn’t lie to him.