Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Wolf’s Auctioned Mate Chapter 5

Wendell

The night hadn't been going as I had imagined, and truly, why would a man such as myself imagine dressing up and hooting at people on a stage with my resources as my bidding price? Electricity charged the air as the crowd whistled and hailed our pairing. Laurencia stumbled next to me, but nobody had the chance to notice when I caught her waist and dipped her deeper than that lazy idiot from earlier. Gary didn't have shit on my moves.

Social graces went right out the window as the crowd's overpowering energy swept me away. I held Laurencia like I had back in that motel room and gave her the most dashing kiss, intensifying the bolts charging the air around us and shocking the crowd into a frenzy. The night hadn't gone as planned, no, but it was getting better by the second with this performance.

My resolve weakened as the applause dissipated into the background, retreating with my sense of control. This was Laurencia Sharman in my arms on the stage of the auditorium with both packs-and alphas-in attendance. What was I thinking while kissing her like she was mine? She would never be mine.

Because she had never been mine.

Light twinkled around her face, capturing my attention as I leaned back to look at her, utterly aghast at the shock written on her face. See, now she was offended by my invasive compulsion. All she had wanted was a rich man with a suave personality. Now she had to deal with the bulky builder man such as myself.

I didn't believe for a second that What's-His-Face had lifted a damn hammer in his life. His daddy had probably passed along the family business without teaching him so much as the proper way to dress on the site of a job. I knew his type. They were the ones hanging out in the shade with their little plastic hardhats and their gigantic paper plans. None of them knew a day's labor-and none of them cared.

With me, Laurencia would have her life made. She would be in a brand-new home with not only working appliances, but the best appliances around, and her every need met without going overboard. What simplicity could this woman desire that I didn't have? It wasn't like it mattered to her in the past. Any man would do at this point in her life.

And with the way our alphas pushed pairings, this probably hadn't even been her idea. Laurencia wasn't the bidding type. She wasn't the mermaid dress type, or the heels type, or the curls-her-hair type. None of that fit her appearance. She was way more into sandals, sand, and free-flowing hair and clothes.

This wasn't her. So, somebody must have put her up to this.

The silence of my world broke through with an announcement from my alpha that we were mated. As the crowd went into overdrive, I set Laurencia on her feet and loosely held her waist, studying the series of expressions that rolled across her face. Stern shock, anxiety, relief, and then uncertainty unveiled her true feelings.

She wasn't happy about this at all. I had made a massive mistake.

While turning to speak to my alpha, we were whisked off the stage and pushed behind the curtains, sent stumbling-Laurencia, not me-into a small hallway big enough for teenagers but not for me. I squeezed through alright without much argument, knowing that my alphas were busy running a rather large event with a hungry crowd.

They wanted to see more pairings. They wanted to witness the drama unfold from having people get bid on like trophies. Some of it felt truly barbaric, no better than daytime television. Yet another piece of it was purely astounding in its strange nature. Because the way I saw Laurencia tonight hadn't occurred to me in several months. The way I looked at her was different than how I looked at any woman at the bar, or any women that I had dared adopt as girlfriends since Laurencia had left me high and dry in that crummy motel parking lot.

I took her hand. "Let's go."

Her heels clapped the ground as she struggled to keep up with my stride. I had always been a wide stride kind of guy while she was all tip toes and trotting. Heels like that were probably hurting her knees and making her lower back ached. Again, this was a woman who danced barefoot around fires, not waltzed in ballrooms. To see her like this almost made me laugh.

Almost.

Several rooms passed us by, each one occupied with one person or another. People were putting on their finishing touches for their appearance on that stage. Supporting this endeavor had been fun and all, but I was quite tired of the stage lights, the performing, and the empty bids.

This was ludicrous. How did either of my alphas expect to get any mating done when they were making a show out of it? If it was as sacred and intimate as people claimed, then bidding on one's mate would pervert that, wouldn't it?

"I see you're still talkative," Laurencia said while stumbling next to me. I caught her before she could run into a stationary cart. "A real Chatty Chad, aren't we?" "You're being rude."

She snorted. "And you're not?"

I took her wrist lightly but firmly. Pressure wasn't important when power was on the line. Laurencia had a way with challenging people who didn't pose a threat to her-unless she did see me as a threat. Then I had to suppose that it was a compliment of some kind. Ditzy women like her didn't feel threatened because they didn't really think about it.

"I'm being just as I always am," I claimed, closing the gap between us with a small step. She backed away from me, inviting me to take another step, and then another. Anyone watching would have assumed we were practicing a dance routine. "And you're being just as you always are."

She bowed her chin toward her chest, peering up at me through thick lashes. Though the lipstick wasn't her style and most of the makeup made me want to gag, I had to admit that her wearing thick lashes was actually quite appealing. I could see why a man like that construction tycoon would want her. Everything else had the opposite effect-and I didn't understand why people wore so much makeup at all. At the end of the day, we were simply what was under our clothes, weren't we? Another step put her back squarely against the wall-and put me flush against her.

"You're thinking those stupid things again, aren't you?" she posed more thoughtfully than curiously. "You don't like what I'm wearing."

"It's not you."

She nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

"Then why are you still wearing it?"

Something passed between us. Perhaps it was one of those energetic bolts from the crowd that darted down the hallway, bounced off each doorknob, and landed in our little bubble. No one else was around to witness this atrocious encounter. So, it had to originate from one of us. There was no other explanation. Laurencia batted her lashes ever-so-subtly and ran her tongue along her lower lip. "So, what you're saying is...I should take it off?"

My heat nearly stopped. This was just another one of her clever little traps. Rage had blinded me from seeing the red flags popping up from the stage to this very spot down the hallway. I took her hips firmly and leveled with her, feeling her breath coasting over my mouth in jagged, anxious waves.

"Don't toy with me, Miss Sharman," I warned.

She shuddered. "Or what?"

"Or there will be a worse fate for you than death when I decide to leave you high and dry."

Her features twisted with betrayal. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would."

"How can you be so heartless?"

A grunt skipped over my tongue, uncontrollable, a horrible revelation to how I truly with her body setting mine on fire. Such heat snaking between us made it impossible to concentrate or get my guards in place. This was some kind of deviltry done by her, likely one of her signature scents just burning right through my frontal lobe and whatever functional reasoning I had left in her presence.

Nothing came through the fog she created. And as she stood on her toes to tease my lips with her mouth, I noticed the charm she wore around her neck sparkling in the hazy backstage light, drawing me in to that very spot beneath her chin...

I shoved myself away from her.

After thoroughly wiping my lips and checking the surrounding area, I turned to face her, casually tucking my hands into my pockets, knowing that nothing on me was out of place. Except perhaps for the hard spot on the front of my pants. That was something I could easily handle later. It wasn't like I hadn't been doing that for years.

Laurencia retained her passionate glare, squinting at me in a way that made me wonder whether she was trying to boil me down mentally or strip me bare. Either way, she'd have a hell of a time explaining to our alphas what was happening back here. "Since you don't approve," she began in that taunting tone of hers, "I'll just take it off right here then."

"Rencie, don't be rash now."

She smirked while turning to show me the back of her dress. The corset was tightly strung, silver strings clinging for dear life to keep the thing from popping off. "Come on now. Help a girl out." She peeked at me over her shoulder. "Or have you lost your touch since we last met?"

How strange to hear her say it out loud. All this time, I had been avoiding this conversation with her, resisting the metaphorical strings holding my façade together. Nobody knew about what happened between us. My alpha couldn't have possibly known when he announced us as mates that we had this rowdy history.

Yet at the same time, the fact that I had marched up to that stage, bid my entire resource ability on a damn ditzy fool, and then swept her away seemed to be enough reason for anyone to draw that conclusion.

It wasn't right to do this to her. One moment of damn jealous pride had shoved me into this situation, so I had to get my emotions together to get myself out of it. Laurencia rested her palms against the wall, still peering back at me, still daring me with her eyes to touch her like I had just minutes ago.

I could just walk away. My eyebrows rose slightly. Yes, that was an interesting thought-and entirely true. I could walk away right now and prevent whatever awful explosion was bound to happen with her.

Great passion brought great suffering. That was the way things were with Laurencia. She made love like a goddess, sucked the life out of my c**k, and then wrung me out to dry when things didn't go her way. Emotionally damaged was putting it lightly. While I didn't know the more intimate details of her pain, I could see the results just fine. They were right here, tempting me to step into hell.

She was Lilith. I was the angel she beckoned into the cold fire. If I gave in, then I knew I would be leaving behind an entire mode of living that was comfortable, safe, and affordable. With her, there would be nothing but agitation and pain. Just walk away.

My legs refused to move no matter how much I urged them to get going. Laurencia didn't move either, perfectly content to remain perched on that wall with her back arched and her hips slowly swaying side to side. Why was she doing that? Didn't she know that drove me up a damn wall?

I strode toward her purposefully and angrily plucked the strings of her corset. The satisfied smirk that strolled across her lips irritated me-and heightened the heat in the furnace burning away in my core. I was burning up by the time I got to the top of her corset where each side parted and revealed the smooth skin of her back.

Decadent, rich, velvety-those were the perfect words to describe her image. Resistance was futile here. I couldn't help drawing my fingers between the strings, lightly tracing the little dimples indicating her skin, prying the corset apart to get more of her skin. More, more, more...

I snapped my attention away from her, checking the hallway for the third time, checking a fourth time back the way we came. We were still alone. Was that by design? Or were we being granted reprieve by the very gods that were currently mocking my resolve? The shimmering corset shifted. Cloth rustled as she bunched the dress at her thighs. She cocked her head to the right, tugged at the bands holding her hair up, and released the burnt brown locks with a dash of orange from their imprisonment, pockets of vanilla exploding in the air from her hair.

I closed my eyes. I inhaled her scent. Juniper. Yes, it was still the same as it was back then. The shampoo was an improvement on the motel quality stuff we used to use every weekend. Almonds drew me closer, that scent sending signals through my body that couldn't have possibly been from some kind of spell but rather a terrible sickness.

Laurencia was an airborne illness. She was a viral infection, a frightening one at that because there was no cure for her being in my system. Despite the years of brooding on my pillows every night and ignoring the thoughts about her that surfaced, I simply couldn't resist her charm.

Only a sickness could cause such delirium.

She turned around, allowing the corset to slide down a half inch to reveal the cleavage she harbored underneath. A lock of hair skittered over her left breast. I reached to push it out of the way, following through over her shoulder and sliding right into a kiss, burning up so hot that the fever caused a conundrum.

Was this madness-or was this sheer desire?

It didn't matter that I knew she was behind this, that her body had prompted my response. I was an animal underneath all this reason and logic. I was the very culmination of my species-a true wolf. Nothing could stop me from having what I wanted. I had bid on her fair and square, and I would sample her as much as I wanted as my potential mate.

Whatever mistakes had been made back in that auditorium were now moot. She was the only thing that existed to me now, the only flavor I wanted in my mouth. As she opened herself up to me and shucked her leg over my hip, I pinned her to the wall, deflating her with a gasp that set off alarms in my brain.

The corset slid farther. I felt her catch the collar of my tuxedo, fingers curling into the fabric to keep me close and to keep her covered. Beyond the veil of silence backstage, I sensed the energetic fluctuation of the audience in front of the stage along with a hint of swing music. Light applause, a microphone whining.

It existed in another realm. That was a dream while Laurencia was my reality, the demoness dragging me to hell with her lips. I sucked her tongue into my mouth, knowing it would draw out a titillating moan, feeling it reverberate against me as it traveled from her chest to her mouth. A deep hunger awakened, something I hadn't experienced in years-not since our parting.

This type of hunger couldn't be sated by one night with her. I had to keep having her. I had to make sure she didn't go away.

But she'll always go away, I thought. She'll disappear into the night like she did last time. I'm sure of it...