Beast Within Page 3

  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.
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  “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?”

  “Yes. You’re welcome.” She quickly cleaned his dishes and added them to the ones in the dishwasher.

  “Now,” she turned the laptop she’d been looking at while he ate to face him. “I need you to watch this.”

  With a click, she started a video on her laptop.

  Dylan watched himself writhing with pain he almost felt again. He watched as frame by frame he turned into a jaguarondi with a dart in its chest. Then the pictures tracked the jaguarondi on her bed as it changed until the last of the pictures showed him sleeping on Hildy’s bed.

  “Interesting pictures. Nice morphing software you have on your computer. It almost looks like I changed into the wildcat and back.”

  “You did,” she said.

  “Yeah, sure. You’re good, lady. Thanks for the meal. Now can you drive me someplace?”

  “You did. Wait just a minute.” Haley left the room and returned with a mirror before Dylan did more than put his plates and bowls in the dishwasher.

  “Thank you for clearing the table.”

  Her pleasure at the little bit he did had to be gratitude enough because her voice held a bit of northern exposure.

  “Look in the mirror.” She demanded, yet took his hand, reminding him of his sisters when they needed comfort.

  She handed him the small mirror.

  “Yeah, so what am I looking for?”

  When he saw his face, he jerked the mirror closer and drew his lips away from his teeth.

  “That’s right.” This time her voice held the coldness of a woman pissed off because her word had been doubted. Still, she let him cling to her hand as though to a lifeline. “I’ve been watching you eat. As soon as you cut the steak, your teeth sharpened to those of a predatory cat.”

  Chapter Three

  Not only did he have pointed teeth, but long, black, stiff hairs sprouted from his carefully shaved cheeks. Even his cheeks didn’t look right. They hung slightly over his mouth and his nostrils flared on a flat nose between the hanging cheeks.

  “Look at your ears.”

  Because Hildy—Haley, not Hildy, Dylan reminded himself—sounded like a dispassionate scientist observing a interesting phenomenon, Dylan manage to control his panic. He tightened his fingers around hers, needing the connection to humanity.

  He moved the mirror to see one ear. It no longer lay flat against his head but rode higher, nearly to the top of his skull, and turned forward with the top of it in a sharp peak caught in his hair. When he touched the ear’s peak, he touched stiff tufts of hair instead of his skin.

  He checked the other ear. The peak on it showed, but it turned more toward his head and almost sat where ears were supposed to be.

  “You’re changing back.”

  Dylan used Hildy’s calmness to anchor his own. He watched the fangs and pointed teeth in his mouth shrink and become the round and smooth shapes of the omnivore instead of a carnivore.

  The flat nose, whiskers and dewlaps morphed back into his own familiar nose and clean-shaven cheeks. His mouth and face stung and tickled, then quit. His ears shaped back into their normal shells. He ran his tongue over his
teeth reassuring himself everything was back to normal.

  “Are you okay?” She placed her hand on his now smooth cheek.

  “What the fuck do you think?” Dylan jerked from her touch and slammed the mirror on the table. The mirror shattered into dozens of glittering shards that flew across the table and to the floor. “What the hell happened to me?”

  “How do I know?” Hildy yelled back while she brushed shards of glass from her t-shirt with hands Dylan saw tremble. The sane part of Dylan didn’t want to contemplate the consequences if one of those shards had hit Haley’s face instead of her shirt and skirt. Her shrieking voice shook slightly, “I picked up a jaguarondi and ended up with a naked man in the same cage. A naked man who changed back into a jaguarondi in front of me. You’re damn lucky I just used my tranq gun instead of my rifle.”

  Dylan stood up abruptly, knocking the chair backward. A piece of glass from the shattered mirror crunched under his foot. He stamped his shoe on it and ground it to dust. “I still can’t believe you had the audacity to fucking tranq me!”

  He knew it was a stupid point, but he’d rather focus on that than the impossible thought of changing into a wildcat.

  Hildy jumped up from her chair and rounded the table to him. The calf-length gauze skirt she wore swirled above her knees from the force of her quick movement.

  In the bright kitchen light, Dylan saw her breasts pressing against the top of her dress. His vision sharpened as he focused on her nipples peaking against the sheer material.

  Dylan clamped down on the flash of lust tightening his groin.

  Hildy got right into his face. “Screw you, bud! I tranqued a jaguarondi attacking me. And like I said, you’re fucking lucky to still be alive. Most people would have seen you change from man to animal and killed you rather than deal with a real-life something that belonged in a Hollywood special effects movie.”

  He knew, way back in a quiet logical part of his mind, his rage came from terror. He’d just seen the reflection of his face, but not in the shape he knew. Instead, he looked like a bad special effects artist’s crappy construction of a half-man, half-wildcat. That sight scared the shit out of him.