by Anya Bast
They would be happy for the rest of their lives.
Excerpt From Keeping Kaitlyn
The man had a body made for battle, all strong bones, long lines, and powerful muscle. His axe swung over his head and came down with a thwack on a huge chunk of wood. Every movement showed the powerful flex of his back and upper arms. Birds twittered in nearby trees but she barely heard them. The scenery was far too distracting. He paused for a moment to push his dusky blond hair away from his face, perspiration glistening on his skin.
She wondered what it would be like to be with a man like that, to have the freedom to touch him as much she liked, to have those arms around her, his bare skin brushing against her body, that magnificent chest pressed against her breasts…
Kaitlyn had never dreamed watching someone chop wood could be so compelling. She could stay here all—
“Kaitlyn Isabella Gannet.”
Kaitlyn jerked her head up to stare into her sister’s eyes. Immediately the sounds of the coffee shop filled her consciousness like air into a vacuum. Voices murmuring. Cups clinking. Espresso machine whirring. She grimaced. “Ugh. Don’t do that. You sounded like Susan.”
And just like that, she was in a thronged downtown Chicago coffee shop, the scent of espresso replacing the fresh smell of forest. She was back and he was gone. How depressing.
Paige’s lips parted in a mischievous smile “I know. Gotcha. Where were you just then? I’ve been saying your name for the last two minutes. I feel like I’m having coffee by myself.”
So she’d pulled the old sound-like-Susan. Kaitlyn shuddered. Even the memory of their stepmother could give her the shivers.
She shrugged and shot a smile at Paige. “Just distracted, I guess. Daydreaming.”
“About what?”
“Uh.” She ducked her head and took a sip of coffee. Nearly cold. “Work.”
It was a lie. It was a lame lie. Daydreaming about work?
Guilt filled her for fibbing, but no way was she going to tell Paige the truth. Her sister would take her to the emergency room right away and, while Kaitlyn wasn’t sure she actually shouldn’t go to the emergency room, she didn’t want that. The doctors might admit her to the psych ward and make her two fantasy men go away.
She knew she was probably going insane. The problem was that insane was a nice place to be. Nice enough Kaitlyn was considering relocating forever.
“Daydreaming about work, huh? Wow.” Paige tipped her cup back, draining her café mocha. “Your daydreams are boring, sis. You need a vacation. Some sand, a piña colada. We could take off for the Bahamas for a few days or something. You could start writing that book you’re always talking about.”
Her sister had been nagging her to take a vacation for a while now. After her divorce, Kaitlyn had thrown herself into her career headfirst. “Are you kidding? I have three projects due within the next month.” She glanced at her watch and jerked with surprise. “Speaking of, I need to get back.” Scooping up her paper to-go cup, she made for the door.
“Caroline invited us for dinner on Sunday,” Paige called after her.
Kaitlyn waved a hand at her, clutching her tote under one arm as she opened the door. “I’m in…as long as Susan isn’t there.” She shot one last smile at her sister and burst into the bright sunlight, hurrying across the square to the office building where she worked.
Paige’s office was just a couple blocks over. When Kaitlyn could grab the time, they went for lunch or coffee at noon. Caroline, their other sister, worked clear on the other side of town, but they saw her often. They were close, the three sisters. Only a year apart, they were all very different in personality, but surviving their childhood had made them best of friends.
She wished she could tell her sisters about the strange forays from reality she’d been taking lately.
She’d called it a daydream, but that was far too mild. It was a little more like being sucked, mind, body, and soul into a dream for a few minutes. Every time it happened, it was too short. They were a little like blackouts, except with sound and pictures. Lovely, wonderful moving pictures of two incredible men…
Shivering at the memory of the wood chopping daydream in the coffee house, she pushed open the door of her building.
Entering the elevator, she found herself shoulder to shoulder with Evan, who worked in accounting at the software development company she worked at.
“It’s a hot one out there today, huh?” said Evan, smiling.
Oh, great, small talk. She forced a smile. “Yes, yes, it is.”
Silence. The elevator music soothed them with soft jazz. Wow, it took a long time to get to the sixty fifth floor.
Evan cleared his throat and turned toward her a little. “I was wondering if you were busy tonight, Kaitlyn. There’s a—”
Oh, no.
“I can’t.” She blurted, and then froze, realizing how rude she’d sounded. Evan was a nice guy, good looking too. He wasn’t married, or obnoxious, and it really was time she got back to dating. Yet… “I’m sorry. It’s not you. You’re an awesome guy. I’m just really into my work right now.”
Evan took a step back from her. He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “No problem. It was just, you know, an idea. An…elevator pitch.” He laughed, but it sounded a little trembling. Nervous.
The car dinged, stopped, and let on another passenger. She and Evan moved to the back and Kaitlyn touched his arm. “Like I said, it’s not you, but I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” But he wouldn’t look at her.
Great. She felt like a total asshole now. Her sisters would kick her butt if they knew she’d just turned down a date with a suitable guy, too.
The elevator doors opened and Evan scooted out as fast as he could. Kaitlyn exited slowly, letting Evan get the distance from her that he so clearly needed, and found her office, closing the door behind her. All she wanted was to lose herself in work. Drown in it. If she couldn’t be locked in those amazing daydreams all day, she wanted to be completely distracted with something else.
Something she knew. Something safe. Something she was good at.
She worked into the early evening. Finally, after the sun had gone down and the office outside her door was dark, quiet, and the cleaning crew was working, she sat back in her chair and stretched. Time to go home to her empty, lonely apartment.
Maybe it was time to get a cat. She sighed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to drift into that lovely dreamscape, but she couldn’t do it. She could never invoke the daydreams on her own; they were always involuntary. A result, Kaitlyn was sure, of a life filled with stress. Not only was she swamped at work, but that nasty divorce had an emotional echo. She’d had to file a restraining order against a man she’d thought had loved her. So it was likely these little snatchaways she was having were probably her mind’s way of dealing with all the tumult in her life. Harmless…though their uncontrolled nature was strange. Worrisome, even.
Her head told her she needed to seek help, but her heart jealously guarded every second she spent with the two men in her daydreams. Both of them were tall, ripped—one dark haired and one light. One of them was tattooed. There was something animalistic about the pair of them, something brutal…something wild. Yet she sensed they wanted nothing but to protect her.
They just wanted her, every inch of her. Forever.
She supposed that would be frightening if the men were real. But they weren’t real. They were a figment of her overstressed, overstretched, overworked imagination. So she was free to admire them whenever they sprang up.
Neither of them had talked to her in her daydreams, or touched her. They were always doing something, forging iron, riding a horse, chopping wood, whatever. That was okay, looking at them was enough. It was like she segued into an alternate reality just for a couple minutes at a time, observed their life there, except both the men knew she was watching them. They looked her with such determination on their faces, such hunger. They wanted her
. They both had claimed her as….
Ours. The word breathed through her office, spoken in a low, rough male voice.
Kaitlyn shot to her feet, every muscle in her body tight. Occasional mental vacations were all right, but hallucinating voices in her office was going too far. She stood frozen for a moment, trying to convince herself that she hadn’t just heard a disembodied male voice claim her as his, but she couldn’t do it. She’d heard that voice clear as if someone had been standing right next to her.
Maybe she needed help after all.
“No.” She gathered her tote bags, stuffing in a few files she might want to look at before bed. “I don’t need help, I need Caroline. I need company. I need—” She groaned. “Now I’m talking to myself. That’s just great.”
She raced out of the office, trailing loose sheets of paper behind her and nearly colliding with one of the cleaning people. All she wanted was to get to Caroline’s house. Her sister lived alone and would still be up; she wouldn’t mind her little sister dropping in for an unexpected visit.
Kaitlyn shouldered her tote bag and mounted the stairs to the elevated L stop at Milwaukee and North, not far from her office, and walked onto the platform to wait for her train.
This was an affluent area, yet she was still very aware of her surroundings. But even though it was well after dark in downtown Chicago, she wasn’t afraid. That’s what self-defense classes were for, classes she’d been taking with abandon since her former husband had gone wonky doodle.
And pepper spray. No way was she going to be held captive by the fact she was a woman.
Ours. The voice drifted on the air, filling up the space around her. Just one voice, but more than one claim. The two men of her daydreams, she assumed.
Her eyes widened and she went stock still. A man sat on the metal bench near her reading a book. He didn’t budge. Seemingly, the voice was in her head. That was so not a good thing.
Come to us.
“Come to you?” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them, a gut reaction to the whispered request of one of the men who were only supposed to exist in her fevered, overworked imagination.
The man on the bench shifted uneasily and glanced at her.
A train sped by, blowing an empty drink container around the platform and buffeting her hair. Come to us, the voice breathed again. She turned to run away, off the platform, down the street, anywhere to escape the voices in her head, but she knew she couldn’t run from her own crazy. Maybe wonky doodle was catching.
Something tingled through her body. A pulling sensation tugged at her clothes.
The train whipping in front of her seemed to speed up and grow longer. She looked down the track and couldn’t see the end of it; it was just one long stretch of blurry silver. Paper and trash buffeted around her feet. The air from the passing train became stronger, thrumming around her head and yanking at her clothing. She stepped back and saw that the man with the paperback was gone. Had he run away…or just vanished?
The wind grew stronger, roaring in her ears. The train sped impossibly faster. She turned to flee and she staggered to the side. Her tote slipped from her shoulder and dropped to the pavement.
This was not right. This was not normal.
Her vision became fuzzy. She dropped to her knees. Throwing back her head, she shrieked in fright, but the roar of the wind swallowed the sound, tossing it away like it was nothing.
Blackness. Silence. Floating.
A couple moments later, her throat raw from screaming, and she lay on something soft and cool. She cracked her eyelids, letting in a flood of bright light. Her pupils weren’t ready for that. She pushed up and scrabbled backward, shielding her eyes with her forearm.
“Take it easy,” said a low, male voice.
She whipped her arm down and blinked owlishly. The cool soft stuff was grass. The bright light was sunshine. The low, male voice came from…..
“Oh, my….god.” She must have had a psychotic break at some point, because one of the men from her daydreams was standing in front her, though this experience lacked the wispy, vague, removed quality that was always present.
This was real. Real grass. Real ground. Real sunshine.
Real man.
She squinted up at him, drawing long, deep breaths into her lungs to stave off a panic attack.
Had she leapt completely into insanity? She pushed to her feet. “What the hell is going on?”
It was the dark haired one. He looked just as he always had—tall, broad, dark-haired, black tattoos snaking down his sinewy arms and crawling up his throat. Chocolate brown eyes that were deep and dark, full of mysteries she wanted to explore. A face as if chiseled from rock, not quite handsome, one cheek marked with a long, white scar. Full, expressive lips—lips that made a woman want to suck, nibble at; lips that made a woman think the most impure thoughts. She wondered what a man could do with a mouth like that.
His body seemed chipped from rock, just like his face, yet she bet his flesh was warm. She wanted to find out, wanted to explore the planes of his chest with her fingertips, trace over the ridges of his abdomen. She could spend hours exploring a body like his.
He was, in short, her dream man. One of a matched set.
The man walked to her. “Kaitlyn Isabella Gannet.”
“Y-yes.” Then she understood that it hadn’t been a question.
He knew her name.
He pulled her against his body. She was too shocked to do anything but let him. He was hard and warm and his arms felt good around her when she should have been terrified. His gaze held hers and her breath locked in the back of her throat. His head dipped suddenly and his lips caught her lips. His breath warmed her mouth, scented like the sweetest mint. His tongue slid into her mouth. Kaitlyn’s knees went wobbly and her spine turned to marshmallow. This man, whoever he was, had engaged every hormone in her body in under three seconds.
She wanted him. No…she needed to have him. Now.
For a moment, she struggled with one of the strongest, most primal instincts she’d ever had in her life. Sex. With this complete stranger. Right now. It wasn’t right, wasn’t safe, definitely wasn’t sane. She had to break this spell before she did something she’d regret in the long run.
She reached into her pocket, drew her pepper spray and squirted him in the face, knowing she was close enough to get a little of it too.
White hot fire hit her eyes. They pushed away from each other, both coughing hard enough to break a rib. She scrambled away blind, her eyes burning and watering, trying to get as far from him as she could.
“Stop,” came his low, commanding voice from behind her.
“No way. I don’t know who you are or where I am.” She wiped her watering eyes and glanced behind her to find him on his knees, covering his face and groaning. Good. “Why did you bring me here?” She continued to move away from him, feeling her way forward, hindered by her blurry eyesight.
“I didn’t bring you. You were drawn.” He spoke with an accent she couldn’t place. “You came because you were meant to come. You belong here with us.”
She stumbled, not understanding his words. Belong with who? Those two hunky guys from her fantastical daydreams? No way.
“Stop.” He sounded really close now.
She glanced behind her and saw that the pepper spray had apparently worn off. Her eyes still burned and she hadn’t even taken a direct hit. What was with this guy? He strode to her as if completely unaffected. Was he superhuman? She hastened as much as she could, but her eyes were still watering. Her shoe caught on a clump of weeds and she fell. Hard.
By the time she’d flipped to her back, he was looming over her. Through her burning eyes, she watched him extend a hand. “Don’t be afraid. Come with me.”
Don’t be afraid, easy for him to say. He was ten thousand times her size.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why?” The man was too gorgeous for words, but that didn’t make him trustworthy.
“I am Lucas. You are my mate. Mine and Rafian’s. Ours. That’s why.”
She stared at him, trying to comprehend what he’d just said. “Mate? What does that mean?”
Lucas shifted impatiently. “Woman, I speak English very well. I learned it for you. You must know the meaning of the word mate.”
She blinked through achy, reddened eyes. “Mate as in sex, or mate as in joined in some kind of….marital type arrangement?”
His teeth flashed white as he bared them, looking predatory for a moment. “Both. Lots and lots of…both.”
Kaitlyn’s mouth went dry. “Uhm. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m a software engineer from Chicago. I have a career back there. I can’t go off mating with a couple strange men from—wherever this is.”
His head lifted as if he heard a sound in the distance. All she heard were twittering birds. “We’re not safe here.”
She glanced around at the lush forest that surrounded them. They were in a meadow dotted through with tall grass and daisies. All the scene needed were cavorting kittens. “What’s not safe about this place?”
Not a millisecond after she’d muttered the sentence the sounds of shouting, horses, and men crashing through forest filled the air. Lucas’s gaze caught hers and held. Then he moved, leaping to the side almost faster than her eyes could track. His form blurred and a curious sound she couldn’t identify came from his direction….a stretching, popping kind of sound. It was a fleshy, organic, alien noise that made cold, stark fear race up her spine.
It happened so fast, she barely registered the event through her shock and primal emotion.
All she knew was that one minute the gorgeous man was there….
And the next moment he’d turned into the biggest wolf she’d ever seen.
About the author
Anya Bast is the award winning author of numerous works of romantic fiction, mostly all paranormal and mostly all scorching hot. She lives in the country with her husband, daughter, seven cats and two dogs.