Rescuing Their Virgin Mate(9)
Between Dirk’s comment about feeling odd when they first entered the hallway, coupled with the way his friend continuously twitched in the room, Dirk felt the pull, too. While Clay was thrilled about having a woman they could share, the timing sucked. Bedding a virgin wasn’t on his bucket list, but now it might be.
He’d always questioned how two friends, who liked to share their women, would share the same woman as their mate, but it had happened. Maybe there was more to mating than he understood.
Clay looked across the seat at her. The glow from the streetlights illuminated her trembling chin. “Are you cold, Elena?” He slid the lever to heat.
She gasped. “How did you know my name?”
This wasn’t the right place to tell her everything. She’d need a good night’s sleep and a decent meal before he explained what happened. “When we get you home, we’ll talk.”
“I don’t have a home. I moved out of my apartment a few weeks ago.”
He knew that. “I meant our home.”
She turned her shoulder away from him and that stung. “So you really are going to keep me?” She swiped a finger under her eye. “You said you’d help me escape.”
Fuck me. This was going to be harder than he thought. “I did and I am, but I can’t dump you on the street and wave goodbye.”
“I could go to my friend’s house.”
He thought she might say that. “We need your help to shut down these men.”
She turned back around. That seemed to get through to her. “Me? What can I do? I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“You worked for Harvey Couch, didn’t you?”
“Is he the one behind my capture?” She tugged on her seatbelt, but he couldn’t tell if she was trying to get out or just frantic. “Was he upset that I quit?”
“We’re not sure. That’s why we need your help.”
Her hand lowered as if that calmed her. “Okay, but I don’t really know anything.”
“I’m betting you learned more than you realize. And that’s one reason why we can’t have you wandering around Gulfside, or anywhere for that matter, until we stop this group from selling more girls.”
Her chin lowered.
“It’ll be okay. I promise.” He wasn’t a religious man, but if some higher being did exist, he hoped like hell he hadn’t just given her false hope.
Once he turned off the highway, he headed east toward their home. Clay couldn’t imagine how frightened she must be, but he wasn’t very good at comforting females. The ones he’d dated had been high profile women whose jobs required them to be in control all day long. That was why they liked his dominant ways. Being a submissive allowed them their freedom. With Elena, that might never happen.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into his driveway.
“Where are we?”
“At our house.”
He couldn’t believe he actually wanted her to tell him how much she liked the neighborhood and his home. Stupid. The woman had been traumatized, and he needed to be sensitive to her needs.
Too bad his body didn’t give a shit.
Dirk was out of the back in a flash and opened her door. She might freak when she saw all the clothes the Pack had purchased for her.
“Watch your step,” Dirk said. “The stones can be a little uneven.”
When Dirk took her hand, Clay realized his friend was lost. Dirk wasn’t the best at relating to others. Now it seemed he’d found his match.
#
Elena couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. A man wouldn’t pay for a woman except to have sex with her. She couldn’t imagine they’d willingly release her without expecting some payment—payment that wouldn’t be in the form of cash. Getting out of that small room had been her goal, but would these men let her go or would she be their sexual slave?
The expected revulsion at the concept of making love with them never materialized.
Having sex with someone as rich and powerful as one of these men sent a small cramp between her thighs, and that scared her almost as much as spending the rest of her days in the small, dark cage.
Be honest. If the circumstances had been different, and she’d met them at a party, she would have found these two attractive. Mr. Blue Eyes was sophisticated and charming. His classic good looks, square jaw, and broad shoulders were what made a woman fantasize. To her dismay, men like him never took a second look at her, a dumpy Latino woman.
The other one, with the brooding good looks, might have been more her type. He was thick around his chest and legs, even though his face held no fat. He wasn’t much of a talker, but his kindness shone through in his actions. Her mom taught her to look for the good in people, and that was what she planned to do.