And Levi had been beautiful in his release, the sounds he had made, the way his body tensed, muscles rippling as his spine lengthened and stretched. Never had Lyndon experienced such a sexual encounter so intensely, so thoroughly. How would he keep himself from hunting Levi down again? Why should he bother to restrain himself?
He didn’t know if he could.
Lyndon reached his clothes and bag, his mind remaining on Levi. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d neglected it for too long. Instead of turning back and tracking down dinner, he shifted and dressed, keeping an ear out for any approaching animal. He sort of hoped
Levi
would follow him and couldn’t quite bury his disappointment when he made it out of the tree line without so much as that tingly feeling one had when being watched.
Well, it was his own fault. He could have stayed and talked to Levi. Why hadn’t he? What had he been thinking, to spew some bullshit line about cougars not sharing? They didn’t, though, not their territories at least. However, Lyndon wasn’t sure that was what he’d meant. Somehow, in that brief and electric encounter, he’d made Levi his in his mind. Stupid, considering. What did Lyndon have to offer? Months of bumming around the country while he whined to himself that he didn’t belong anywhere and ran from a twisted stalked her couldn’t identify.
What an ass he’d been. What a scared child, running, always running—just like he had when his father, Cole Tavares, had come after him. When he really thought about it, Lyndon knew he wasn’t much of a man at all no matter how masculine he looked. A man would stand his ground. Lyndon hadn’t yet, and he’d started this pattern of fleeing when he’d met his father for the first time.
Lyndon had let his human feelings overtake his cougar nature in regards to his father. It had hurt, having his father drive him away. Lyndon still didn’t understand why the man was like he was, disdainful of their human nature even though he was a successful man in the human world. He wanted the wealth and glory that entailed, but none of the emotions a human had. Instead he treated Lyndon like an invader in his life. Lyndon had been raised by his mother, a human who’d not known what his father was, at least not at first. It wasn’t until after Cole had impregnated her that she’d known the child she was carrying wasn’t exactly human. Then the bastard had dropped some money in a bank account and left. Lyndon’s mother had told him the story repeatedly, and while his mom hadn’t always been stable, she’d never been a liar.
It wasn’t until after her death that his old man had even deigned to make an appearance and introduce himself, and even then it was only so he could threaten Lyndon and force him out of his home in San Antonio. Lyndon had had little choice but to accept the money his father had given him, along with the truth about what they were—cold hearted beasts destined to be alone. To prove his point, his father had shifted and attacked. Lyndon had learned to shift quickly by then but he’d never even encountered another cougar shifter or any shifter for that matter, and he hadn’t had a clue how to fight. He had the scars from the one and only encounter with his father to this day.
If he hadn’t actually found another cougar shifter—one a hell of a lot more human in nature than his father—Lyndon would probably be dead. Grady Marks had taken Lyndon in after finding him torn up and hurting, dumped in a scrub-filled area to the south of San Antonio. He’d been kind, a good man and shifter, and he’d taught Lyndon a few things about what he was. Grady hadn’t known a lot about what they were himself, professing to be a loner and liking it that way. Yet he’d been nothing but patient with Lyndon. He’d even made sure Lyndon did something, made something of himself at least for a while. Grady had asked Lyndon what he wanted, and it’d been easy to answer at the time. He wanted to be a normal kid, like everyone who wasn’t a damn shifter. College had been the obvious choice, and for a while Lyndon was almost happy. Then Grady had died and nothing felt right. Grady had been gone for a while now, and Lyndon knew the man’s death was the catalyst that had sent him running, or searching, he wasn’t sure which it was anymore. Really, his head was a damned mess, wasn’t it? What rational man would have walked away from a well-paying job even if he had hated it? Especially in today’s fucked up economy.
Lyndon shrugged. At least he still had some money in the bank. He’d used what his father had given him to get his business degree, but he’d always tucked a small part of his cheque into savings. After paying for Grady’s funeral, Lyndon’s savings had almost been wiped out. Since he thumbed most rides and slept out in the open when he could—which was more often than not, considering what he could shift into—Lyndon hadn’t touched much of what money he had left.
But he thought he might tonight. It had been too long since he’d slept in a bed and had a long, hot shower. Bathing in streams could suck, and he’d paid for the occasional shower at the truck stops, but often there simply wasn’t time between rides to enjoy a shower. Plus, if it were crowded, it didn’t pay to piss off the other men who were waiting, not if he was hoping to bum a ride from one of them. This morning he’d got a lukewarm shower at a stop outside of Jenkins, but after today’s exertions—
Lyndon sniffed and closed his eyes as the musky scent of cum reached his nose. He saw Levi again, resignation already showing in those pale eyes, Lyndon’s cum splattered on his body. God, but he wished he’d ran his hands over that warm flesh, covered it in his spunk so thoroughly the leopard shifter would never get the scent off. If he’d fucked him, marked him from the inside out—Lyndon snorted.
What the
hell
was wrong with him? It wasn’t like he hardly ever got laid. There were, not surprisingly, a large number of horny guys in the world. A lot of them happened to be truckers eager to spread their cheeks for Lyndon. He thought it might have more to do with what he was than how he looked, as if humans could detect the undercurrent of the beast inside him.
It was several miles into Holton. Lyndon walked the distance in the dark and didn’t see a single vehicle along the way. It was late, almost midnight by the time he reached the lone hotel in town. The place looked to be well-maintained, which Lyndon hoped meant plenty of warm water. He checked his reflection in the window before he entered and smoothed down his long hair. At least he had on decent jeans and shirt, and had managed to shave that morning, so he didn’t look like the vagrant he was.
Inside, the lobby smelt clean, a little like artificial pine cleaner, but that was better than many alternatives. Lyndon stepped over to the counter and saw the sign informing customers to ring the bell if they needed help. A tap of his finger made the thing clang irritatingly, but less than thirty seconds later a perky young woman came out from what might have been an office. Her blue eyes rounded as she swept her gaze over his face and torso. Lyndon wished he’d worn something other than the tight, long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Can I help you?” she all but purred in a way that did absolutely nothing for him.
Regardless, he plastered on a smile that probably looked as fake as it felt and dug his wallet out of his back pocket.
“I need a room. I’m not sure for how long, maybe two or—no, three days? At least.” Who knew if he’d stay that long, but maybe he would. It didn’t have anything to do with the man he’d met, Lyndon told himself. He was just tired of moving around and wanted some time to rest and not worry about where he was going. The latter
was
true, but Lyndon knew the first part of his reasoning wasn’t. Levi intrigued him, and Lyndon felt like he’d been caught in a sensual snare he wasn’t certain he wanted to be free of.
“That’ll be one-ten.” The woman—her name tag proclaimed her to be Dahlia D—rested an elbow on the counter and leant forward.
“That’s fine. Cash okay?”
She looked at him for a long moment then nodded. “Usually we require a credit card, but I can make an exception.”
Lyndon casually moved a step back to avoid contact with Dahlia D’s large breasts and took his licence and most of the cash he had on him and handed it over. As Dahlia D took care of registering him then getting his receipt and key card, Lyndon debated the wisdom of using his ATM card to access the rest of his savings. After assuring Dahlia D that he would let her know if he needed ‘anything at all’, Lyndon made his way to his room. It was small but clean, the mattress firm and comfortable when he gave it a test sprawl. His stomach growled and cramped, and Lyndon sat up, rubbing his belly. He gave the rest of the room a cursory inspection—beige walls, paisley wallpaper trim, crappy landscape prints that seemed to be a requirement for hotels of this sort, as well as cheap-looking furniture.
The dresser held a decent-size TV and a few drawers for his scant belongings. The matching faux cherry wood nightstand contained two religious books in the drawer and a lamp and alarm clock on the top. A small desk that also served as a table took up one corner and a paisley print chair the other. The carpet was a rather hideous shade of blue, but clean.
Lyndon walked over and peeked in the bathroom, grunting at the size of the tub. Too small for him, but he preferred showers anyway. He’d need to buy some shampoo and—he leaned in far enough to check his appearance in the bathroom mirror—maybe even conditioner. It’d been a long time since he’d bothered trying to tame his hair. There was no point in trying to lie to himself about his reasons for fretting over it now. If he should happen to run into Levi… Well, he wanted to look his best. There was probably some instinctive thing to it, a subconscious need to appear capable and attractive and all the kinds of stuff people had been doing to attract a mate since time began.
Lyndon didn’t want to dwell on such complexities right now. He wasn’t particularly capable, and as for attractive, he was just all right. Not model-handsome, but he wasn’t a guy who’d look better with a bag over his head, either. And his body was pretty damn tight. Not that he was vain, either, at least not normally.
Now wasn’t the time to start either. Lyndon turned away from the mirror. He’d depress himself if he kept checking himself out, all shaggy-haired and worn around the eyes. It seemed to him the traces of his youth were long gone, and maturity was kind of a scary look on him.
Remembering the convenience store he’d spotted on his way to the hotel, Lyndon decided to go and grab what he needed, including some kind of food and drinks. He had about forty bucks on him, he thought. Not a lot, but if he was frugal he could make it last for a few days at least. Using the ATM was something he tried to avoid since he wasn’t sure his movements weren’t being monitored that way, but it looked like he was going to have to take the chance. Even if he found a job, it’d be a while before he got paid.
And why the hell am I thinking about getting a job here?
Lyndon hadn’t hung around anywhere long enough to get a job, not since he’d left Dallas. Making a mental list of what he would need, he made sure the hotel room door was locked. A short jog across the parking lot and up a block, then he was walking into the brightly lit store. A few old men sat at booths built for two. Lyndon glanced at the clock above the cash register, surprised to find it was after one in the morning. He shrugged internally. Maybe if he lived to be old he’d hang out somewhere like this at night, unless he had someone warm to sleep beside instead.
Memories of Levi, both man and beast, and the odd merging of him being both and neither flitted through Lyndon’s mind. He had a feeling he was going to have to get used to thinking about him.
Lyndon winced as he picked up the cheapest conditioner on the shelf. It was a crappy brand and overpriced by at least two bucks, but there was no way the stuff at the hotel was going to be enough. He hated buying necessities from places like this, where everything was so marked up the prices should have been considered robbery. Lyndon stared at the bottle and wondered again what he was doing. Should he go after Levi? But what did he have to offer?
Nothing, really, is what he kept coming back to. But if he stayed here, maybe found work and became a productive member of society again, then he wouldn’t be such a bad bet. And this was a small town, so chances were good he’d run into Levi here, sooner rather than later.
Just the idea of seeing Levi again set Lyndon’s pulse to fluttering in a way he’d have been embarrassed about if anyone else had known. He tucked the conditioner under his arm and picked out a shampoo and soap. Some hideously expensive toothpaste and a few other things to groom himself with, along with a six pack of sodas and snacks, and Lyndon was looking at a little over thirty bucks in products he could have got cheaper at a real store.
The clerk snapped his gum and held out his hand. “That’ll be thirty-two twenty-three.”
Lyndon eyed the man, his name tag proclaiming him to be Craig. He looked young, but not much younger than Levi, maybe. But what would Lyndon ask him? And was Levi out here? Lyndon put thirty-three dollars in Craig’s hand and almost yelped in surprise when Craig tickled his palm.
Craig winked at him and gave his crotch a lascivious look. Lyndon was torn between feeling flattered and feeling dirty. He settled on grabbing his bag and bolting from the store. Craig could do whatever with his change.