****
The sun had risen, and Aster was no longer wrapped around her when she next opened her eyes. Though a note sat on the bedside table, along with two Tylenol and a glass of orange juice.
Sitting up, she reached for the note.
For your hangover. I’ve gone for a run. Be back soon, A.
Smiling at the simple note that seemed far too intimate coming from someone she barely knew, Becca picked up the pills and washed them down with the orange juice. Deciding she’d shower before Aster returned, she slipped from the bed and walked over to the sliding wardrobe doors made of glass. Unbuttoning the shirt, she wore, it floated to the floor, skimming over her body in a soft caress. Next went her yoga pants, and then she stood face-to-face with the evidence of her accident.
Though the skin on her lower back had been the worst of her injuries, it was clear she’d first landed on her side. Her hip was now covered in dark angry bruises, mottling out down her thigh and up her lower back. It hurt to move and touch, but not so much that she couldn’t push the pain into the back of her mind. It was an ability she’d learnt over the years, an essential skill she needed to survive Alex Scar. Though he didn’t often beat her, when he did, she’d found out early on that he enjoyed seeing her in pain after he’d hurt her. So she’d taught herself to ignore the pain, her silent fuck you to the man she couldn’t escape.
Becca carefully peeled the gauze from her back to see the grazed skin had started to scab over. Her hands, too, looked better after a night of not being moved. Her mind wandered to the memory of Aster’s strong, callused hands tending to her bleeding fingers with such care, yet it hadn’t been the tenderness in his touch that had undone her. It had been the look in his eyes. The warmth, the need. No one had ever needed or wanted to care for her before, and so she’d let him. Knowing all the while she was making it harder for herself in the long run, because although she’d known Aster for only a day, he’d already succeeded in reaching places in her heart no one else had ever touched. The knowledge made her feel vulnerable in a way she never had before. Her soul stripped bare, her heart raw and exposed.
While she hardly knew Aster, he had the power to destroy her, of this she was sure. It was a power Alex Scar never had, even after years of abuse. With that in her mind, Becca turned from her reflection and headed for the bathroom, with each step she built up her walls, put on her mask. The dream was over, reality her only companion.
Aster wasn’t surprised to find hardness in Becca’s eyes when he walked in from his run. Though her look did falter for a split second as she took in his bare chest coated in a fine sheen of sweat. The slip made his beast stretch out with pride. Becca might have her mask back on, but he was confident he’d soon strip it off.
“Do you run often?” she asked as he kicked off his trainers.
“Most mornings, helps clear my head.” And keep my beast from taking over. This morning he’d run double the distance he normally would. The beast within him had been precariously close to the surface when he’d woken. It had taken an hour of hard running to ease the vicious need to claim Becca. It was a miracle he’d managed to keep some semblance of human thought last night as she’d so hungrily rubbed herself against him.
It had been the look in her eyes that had helped him keep a rein on the Minotaur. She’d only sought to use him to forget her demons and, although he wasn’t against the idea of being used by Becca, he’d already begun to see her as his. Yet fear was the emotion that held him back from simply walking up to Becca, and kissing every wall around her to dust. Because Becca didn’t know what he was, and when she did, she’d likely run. It’s what they did. Only this time, the female wasn’t just a nameless fuck. She meant something. She mattered.
Aster wouldn’t survive if Becca ran.
“So are you working today?”
“No, I called in and said I couldn’t make it,” he replied, heading toward the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he drank down half of the cold liquid before speaking again. “I figured you’d want to take your bike in for repairs this morning.”
“Yes, and I need to go shopping, too,” she said, folding her arms.
Aster’s eyes fixed on her breasts, pushed up in invitation from her crossed arms. He was tempted to keep the bra he’d bought hidden so that he could keep enjoying the view, but then he realized he wouldn’t be the only one enjoying the view the second they left his cabin.
“Yeah, about that,” he said, bringing his eyes back to her face and smiling sheepishly. “Look in the truck, under the driver’s seat.”
She narrowed her eyes at him before heading outside. Aster closed the door to the bathroom. Laughing at the sound of her frustrated scream, he stripped off his clothes and entered the shower, his smile wide and his heart the lightest it had been in years.
Finally wearing a bra, Becca slipped her jacket on and waited for Aster to finish getting dressed. He’d walked from the steamy bathroom seconds earlier, a towel wrapped around his waist. It had taken considerable willpower to not follow him and tug at the towel hanging low on his hips; it wouldn’t take much effort at all to have him naked and glorious for her viewing. The problem was she’d end up doing more than just viewing, and Becca had no choice but to leave. Leaving would be far simpler if she didn’t become addicted to Aster.
Sighing in frustration, Becca slumped into the nearest chair, not considering her still injured back. “Fuck.” She hissed through clenched teeth, shooting forward. Unfortunately Aster choose that moment to walk from his bedroom, dressed in a dark green long-sleeved T-shirt, and faded blue jeans.
He narrowed his eyes, mouth becoming a hard line, but Becca had a feeling his anger was directed at himself for causing her injuries in the first place. She found herself wanting to comfort him, tell him it was only an accident, and not his fault she’d been hurt. The thought had her closing off her heart, her face hardening to match his. She couldn’t show him she cared. As soon as he knew, he’d never let her go.
“How bad?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I’m fine, I just sat back too quickly.”
“Let me see. I may need to add more dressing.”
“Aster, really I’m…” Her words trailed off as he paid her no attention and dropped to his knees. She sucked in a breath as he lifted up her T-shirt; the material having stuck to some of the still raw skin.
“This needs dressing,” he ground out.
Becca had no power to stop him. It took every ounce of her will to ignore the sensations his fingers made from skimming her skin. She shifted a fraction trying to ease the sudden ache between her thighs. God, when did I become a horny teenager?
Staying in place, she waited for Aster to return with supplies, and allowed him to cover the small section of skin that hadn’t scabbed over.
“Damn, Bec, this is pretty bruised. Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”
“It looks worse than it is,” she muttered, hoping he’d drop the subject.
His fingers grazed the edge of her waistband. “How far does it go down?” he asked, when his fingers reached the hip she’d landed on first.
“Not far.”
“Liar.”
“Aster!” Becca protested, but there was no stopping him. One second her yoga pants were up, the next they’d slid past her butt, revealing the dark, angry skin running from her hip, and fading out near her knee.
“Shit,” he whispered on a harsh breath as he rocked back to balance on the balls of his feet. “I can’t believe I did this.”
“You didn’t. The road did,” she snapped, roughly pulling her pants back up, and turning to face him. “You knocked me off. Get over it.”
Reaching out, Aster gently took hold of her hips and tugged her the half step that was between them. Her breath rushed out of her in a harsh gasp, but she made no move to pull away. Looking up into her eyes, he murmured, “I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
Closing his eyes against the rush of sudden emo
tion boiling through his veins, Aster leaned forward and rested his forehead against the still bare skin of her stomach. She went ridged at first then melted against him, her sigh content. Her hands skimmed his shoulders then into his hair.
“I’m okay, Aster. It could have been a lot worse.”
Give in. Take her.
Pressing a kiss to her stomach, Aster looked up into her heated eyes. He knew if he took this further, she’d not protest at this minute. But he also knew Becca had more wounds than she’d admit, wounds no one could see, and so did he. If this was going to work, if he was going to keep her, then Becca had to trust him, and right now, he could still see hints of wariness in the depths of her gaze.
Not yet, he whispered internally to his beast.
Pushing to his feet, keeping little space between them, he said, “Let’s go get your bike looked at then.”
Incapable of words, Becca nodded and took a step back. Carefully inching her T-shirt back into place, she wrapped her jacket closer around herself and headed for the door.
The drive was fairly quiet, Aster telling her that Crane Motorcycle and Repair was on the old side of town. She’d nodded to the information, then angled her head to stare out the window at the passing trees.
She needed some space from the man who seemed to set her skin on fire by just entering the room, and who saw far more than he should. No one had seen through her mask to the scarred, broken girl beneath, or maybe it was simply that no one cared what existed under the surface. The thought confused her, making her anxious to be on the road before her will failed, and she decided to dream of staying. A dream that was impossible whilst Alex Scar existed in the world.
“Here we are,” Aster said, cutting through her turmoil.
Climbing out of the truck, Becca walked to meet Aster on the other side. She watched in disbelief as he lifted the bike from the back as if it weighed nothing.
Noticing her stunned look, he grinned. “I work out.”
She couldn’t keep in the laugh that bubbled up her throat. “I can see.” Taking the bike by the handles, Becca whistled out a breath. “Jesus, the poor girl’s banged up.”
The sleek, matt-black paint had scratches and deep grooves through it, and the fuel tank had a serious dint in the side, but what worried her the most was the oil leaking from what she thought was the engine. A smile spread on her lips as she imagined what Alex would do if he saw his precious bike in such a state. With glee, she could even imagine tears in his eyes.
“What’s got you smiling so evilly?” Aster asked.
He startled a laugh from her, “Oh, nothing. Thanks, I’ll take it from here.”
“What? You want me to stay here?”
“Yes. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with this.”
“I know the owner –”
“Aster, I do not need your hulking form looming over me. Just wait in the truck…please.”
“Fine,” he mumbled.
Becca smiled as his door slammed a little too loudly. Not used to taking orders from women then.
Wheeling the bike inside, Becca looked up as a man, who looked to be in his mid-forties, came out of a back office. “Wow, what you do to her?”
“Some idiot ran me off the road,” Becca replied.
“Harley…Iron 883?”
“Yeah.” Becca didn’t really know much about motorcycles, but she’d heard Alex drone on about his baby what felt like a million times. Harley Davison Iron 883, black, powder coated, 883 cc engine, black chopped fenders, and black cast aluminum wheels, blah, blah, blah, I don’t give a shit. All she’d ever seen was one hell of a sexy bike, with a deep rumbling engine that gave her a thrill every time she sat on it, and right now, it was her ticket to freedom. “Can you fix it?”
Humming under his breath, the mechanic walked around the bike before kneeling and inspecting the leaking oil. “You’ve cracked the engine casing, other than that, it’s cosmetics.”
“So it’s a quick fix?” Becca said hopefully.
The man laughed. “I’ll have to order the casing in. That could take a week or so, and the engine needs stripping to make sure nothing’s got in. If I find anything then those bits would need replacing. Plus paint and the dints.”
“Look, I don’t care what it looks like. Just get it running.”
Standing, the man looked her over. “Look, Ms...?”
“Becca.”
“Becca…I’m guessing you’ve places to be, but even if I leave the cosmetics – which I might add would be a crime – it won’t run without a new casing, and we’re not exactly short of work.”
Becca huffed out a breath, her eyes narrowing on his nametag stitched to his overalls. “Listen, Dave, I get what you are saying, and I’d never dream of leaving her looking like that, but like you said, I’ve places to be.” Smiling sweetly, Becca took a slow step toward him. “I’d really appreciate if you could get her back up and running as quickly as possible…and…money is no problem. Is cash okay?”
His eyes fell to her breasts, and Becca had to fight the urge to punch him. “Well.” He gulped. “I guess I could have them fast track it, and pay for overnight delivery if money is no issue. Still going to be end of the week though, Thursday at the earliest.”
“Fine. Just get it done as fast as possible…please.” Turning on her heel, Becca marched out of the shop feeling a sudden need to hit something. Fuck! I hope Alex doesn’t find me.
“So?” Aster asked her as she slammed her door closed and folded her arms angrily.
“I’m stuck here for at least this week,” she snapped. “Freaking casing is cracked.”
“What a shame. You’ll have more time to get to know me.”
His words caused her heart to flutter, but she knew she couldn’t get to know him. It would only make leaving harder.
“I don’t know what you’re smiling at. I’m not staying with you. Take me to get the rest of my things, please, and would you mind dropping me off at the cheapest motel.”
“Not sure if you’ve noticed but it’s nearly Halloween, and Woodland Creek isn’t exactly huge. We’ve got an inn.”
“What’s Halloween got to do with me staying at the inn?”
“Well, Woodland Creek likes to go all out. A weeklong festival and all, people come in from out of town for it. Inn’s probably full.”
“Well, I still want to look.”
“If you stay with me, it’s free.”
Becca let out a heavy sigh. “I know what you’re doing and I’m telling you now, it will be far less painful if you’d just drop me off at the inn and forget you ever met me.”
He glanced over, his expression unreadable. “I can take pain, and you’re wrong. I was just trying to help seeing as I’m the reason you need a room in the first place.”
“Aster, I keep telling you it was only an accident, so let it go.”
“I will if you stay with me.”
“Why? Why is it so important when I’m going to leave anyway?”
Aster pulled the truck over and shifted in his seat so he could look at her. The intense emotions in his eyes put Becca on edge, but his words didn’t match his gaze.
“It’s not. I was just trying to save you money.”
“Bullshit,” Becca ground out, suddenly angry. He wanted to get to know her better. It was written all over his face.
The energy shifted around them, becoming tense. Becca refused to drop her gaze as his bored into hers. For a second, they seemed to almost glow, but then he spoke and she was suddenly doused in fear.
“You’re right. It’s bullshit…just like your ‘just passing through’ comment. Admit it, Becca, you’re running, probably from the person you’ve stolen the shitload of cash stashed in your bag from.”
“You had no right to go through my things,” Becca replied.
“I was looking for some ID since I’d just run you off the road.”
“What makes you think it’s not mine?” Becca narrowed her eyes. She was admitting nothin
g.
“What kind of woman passes through with more money than clothes and toiletries?”
“Fuck you!” Becca spat. Reaching for the latch, she unbuckled her belt, and made to get out of the truck.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Aster growled, reaching for her.
“Get off me!”
“No.”
“I swear to God, Aster, I’ll scream.”
“And say what? Huh?”
Becca sank back, giving up her struggle to escape. “What do you want? The money’s yours. Just let me go.”
Aster released Becca and silently cursed himself for losing his cool. He’d nearly let the leash on his beast slip. He’d almost shown Becca his true face.
“Shit, Bec, I don’t want your money.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I just want to help you.”
“You can’t help me, Aster.”
Yes, we can!
He wanted to tell her he could. That no matter her problems he’d fight them for her, but she’d not understand his feelings. She’d not understand she was his.
“At least stay with me, that way, whoever you are running from won’t find you.”
Looking up, Becca searched his eyes. He held his breath, hoping she’d agree and make it easy on him. Because he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go, and getting her to trust him would be a lot easier if she was in his home, his territory.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Great. How about we go grab a coffee and then you can shop for what you need.”
Becca nodded in reply, and quietly sat back in her seat, pulling her belt back across her and clicking it in place.
Letting out a breath, Aster’s heart calmed, and his Minotaur lay back in relief.
Ours, his Minotaur whispered.
Yeah, we’ve just got to convince her of that.
Woodland Creek Coffee turned out to be on Old High Street. It had a quaint feel, with a brick frontage and an awning. Aster led her through the shop and out the back to a small patio setup with tables. Taking a seat, Becca watched him disappear inside for their drinks. She was finding it hard to stay mad at Aster for going through her things. It wasn’t like he’d gone looking with bad intentions, and he hadn't threatened to call the police. Yet he wanted her to stay and she wasn’t sure that was wise.
The Beast Within Page 5