Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Wolf’s Bullied Mate Chapter 4

Jada

The toolshed was a lot cooler than the hot afternoon shade in the cornfield. I was sure that Isaiah wouldn't follow me in here unless he wanted to pick another fight. And I was prepared for that too. I was ready to defend myself against the bully that seemed to be far too focused on me instead of his work. And why? It wasn't like I was trying to fight him on purpose.

My mother's voice circled my mind saying, There's never a rhyme or reason with a bully. They're mean to be mean.

In my family, we didn't subscribe to the belief that every bully had a heartbreaking backstory. That wasn't a vibration I cared to carry. I felt like that sort of thing excused poor treatment of others instead of handling the behavior itself. Bullies needed to be nipped in the bud the right way.

I believed in the compassionate way to treat people, to inform them of their harmful behavior. I believed in the power of community. I believed in all the things that my alpha believed in-treating everyone equitably and respectfully. When things got out of balance, extreme action was necessary to right that balance.

With Isaiah, it seemed like any extreme action incited more bad behavior. The only thing left for me to do was speak to Blake and hope for the best. Alpha would always understand the underdog. Right now, those underdogs were my field workers and me. Just this morning, I had received several more complaints about Isaiah's snappy attitude and rude interruptions.

One deep breath led me deeper into the toolshed. Another deep breath helped me set down the basket of corn. Sheesh, this wasn't even the right place to be setting it down. I had been making mistakes all morning and afternoon because of that giant oaf stalking me and trying to get me to participate in another one of his silly little challenges.

That was exactly how I saw Isaiah-a silly man with a silly ego. Nothing about that rippling muscle and glistening skin made me want to think differently. No thank you. I could get any handful of that in town at a local dive bar. I could order a man online if I wanted to do it. Goodness, there were plenty of options for attractive women like me. Any number of dating apps had what I wanted.

More than Isaiah. Better than Isaiah. Probably a lot nicer than Isaiah.

Ugh, if that's the case, then why do I keep thinking of Isaiah?

What a handsome question for my mind to pose while I plucked idly through ears of corn. I wasn't even doing it correctly. I wasn't even in the right building to be doing it incorrectly. What in the world was going on with me?

I closed my eyes, the motion igniting my core with heat. I couldn't even imagine a blank template without that idiotic bully coming to mind. Everything about him made me want to melt.

I just didn't understand why.

My awareness prickled. As I spun around to inspect the toolshed, a blast of light blinded me briefly. I guarded my vision with a raised hand and squinted, trying to see who had stumbled upon my hiding spot. Geeze, it probably wasn't even that big of a secret. How many times had Skye and Francine found me in here?

"You don't have to be a snob," Isaiah snapped.

My eyes rolled. For multiple reasons. "You don't have to be a weird stalker."

"I was going to ask you for more chores."

I blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Your workers are slacking. They can't handle the workload. They need more muscle out there."

"Oh, I get it," I teased sharply. "You're trying to tell me how to do my job." I sighed. "You really can't lose."

He slammed the door shut, marched toward me, and towered over my petite frame. The guy really didn't vary his stances, did he? It was like he was a caricature of a Hollywood movie bully. Everything he did dripped with the stagnant energy of an old racehorse. Old. Tired. Repetitive.

I shook my head. "You can't even come up with better moves."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how your intimidation is lacking."

He gritted his teeth together. The sound they made grinding against each other made my skin twitch and my shoulders ache. Sheesh, he was so tense.

"You haven't even felt my intimidation," he snapped. "You don't even know who you're messing with."

My eyes rolled a second time. "I'm sure I have no idea."

"Your rotten attitude isn't doing you any favors, sugar tits."

"Dang, I guess I can say the same about you."

His whole face reddened brighter than a ripe tomato left out in the field. He was boiling hot. He was brimming with the kind of rage that a deity would have for a human who'd bested him. Was that the direction this was taking? Did I have to prepare to shift and fight this asshole?

I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to back down. "Get out of my face."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll do what I know hurts you most."

His lips turned into an evil smirk. For a second, it actually looked kind of hot.

But only kind of.

His eyes narrowed. "Give it your best shot."

So, I did. I gave it my best shot.

I laughed.

And I didn't just do a little girlish giggling. No, I allowed myself to go full-on into hyena mode with my laughter. If it hadn't been such an absurd situation from the beginning, I wouldn't have been able to cackle so hard.

Absurd-that was just the way my life was at this point, wasn't it? The biggest bully of the bunch had challenged me to hurt him and I had met that challenge easily. As anticipated, he was being a sore loser about the whole thing, growling as he bowed his head like a bull preparing to tackle me. "Cut it out," he demanded, to which I only laughed more. "You'll pay for this."

Even more absurd was the fact that he thought I cared. Out of everything, that should have been the most nonsensical thing. I hardly cared for a bully like Isaiah. All I wanted out of him was respect.

But if he wouldn't give me respect, then I wasn't about to give him anything.

He clamped his hands on my shoulders. That shut me up faster than a jackrabbit getting pinned by a wolf-and I hated feeling like I was the rabbit in this situation. Especially as he dug his fingers into my flesh. Though it wasn't physically bruising, heat boiled to the surface, coaxing me to part my lips.

Instead of vile words or insults, what appeared was a desirous moan.

And that caught his attention more than the laughter.

He eased forward an inch, more heat brewing between us, a litany of feelings growing with the intensity of a star preparing to erupt. Was that me or him?

Or was it both of us?

"Come again?" he commanded-for the way the question rasped from his lips demanded a response. "What was that, sugarplum?"

Sugarplum...

I stood up on my toes, quivering at the feeling of him growing hard against me, confused and aroused in equal measure. And then aggravated by that mixture of responses. What was I supposed to do now? I was his boss. He was my bully. None of it felt real. But this heat, it was more real than anything I had felt in ages. It was soothing as much as it was scorching. Wave after wave swept over my skin, radiating from his palms like he was doing it on purpose. Was that his goal? To distract me?

Because it was working like a damn charm.

My lips parted without hesitation. The moan reappeared, fluttering from my mouth like a betrayal and drawing him closer...and then even closer...

Until we knocked together.

Daylight flashed through my mind as his tongue swarmed my mouth. A thousand questions rose-and then a million answers swelled to quell the raging tide rising inside me. He clutched my shoulders while backing me into a table. Or was it a wall? It didn't matter. I didn't care as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

No matter how confusing it made me feel.

He caught me when I jumped into his arms. Nothing could have indicated his desire to hold me. But I did it regardless of the logic. Because desire was never fueled by logic, was it? Desire was simply a fire that grew the more it was doused in wonder. And right now, all I could wonder was whether his size matched his stamina. And also, the other way around.

Shudders erupted where his hands gripped me. Nothing about the way he handled me intended gentleness. He was going to take what he wanted, and I was ripe for the taking, utterly exhausted from being in charge every waking second of the day. I hadn't realized how tired it was making me to manage everything until Isaiah came along.

A kiss was all it took to knock me out of the park. Sheesh, what the hell was his cock going to do? I couldn't wait a second longer. I had to know what it felt like to bury him between my legs. Mouth, fingers, c**k-I craved each one. I longed for him to nestle into my slit and make me regret ever giving him an attitude.

My eyes snapped open. Gods, what's going on with me? I never want to be dominated. I want to ride. I want to take control. I want to-

Isaiah broke the kiss. He planted me on the table-so it was a table-and tore off my cotton pants. My tank top went next. I was stark naked in the middle of the shed in the middle of the day where anybody could walk in at any point. While Isaiah was still fully clothed.

Noticing the unfairness of the situation, I sought to rectify it, yanking at his belt and his shirt, shucking his briefs next, revealing what I knew was going to be massive before it ever fell into my hands.

Another whimper drifted from my lips as I tugged his cock, bringing to life what was already partially hard in a few short strokes. Every pump drew a muted grunt from him like he was trying to contain his reaction. I peered up at him through heavy lashes. But why? We had already gotten this far. What was the use in hiding anything from each other? I was as naked as he.

Unless that was the point. He wanted to exert control over me in every way-that was the nature of bullies, wasn't it? This was just another task to him, another way to make me do exactly what he wanted me to do.

He firmly grasped my chin, forcing me to make extended eye contact. "You think too much."

"You breathe too hard."

He growled while pushing his hips between my thighs. Every inch of me quivered with despair that he might put his clothes on and walk away instead. Odd to feel that way considering the circumstances. But understandable. I was so used to rejection and bullying. Another painful blister added to my body wouldn't be a surprise.

But it would certainly be a disappointment.

Because despite the fighting, despite the fact that Isaiah was a massive thorn in my side that wouldn't give way to tweezers, he was also a morbid curiosity. What made him tick? What made him come? Would digging into either one of those things show me the man underneath the jerk?

Did it matter?

"Too much," he warned while tapping my cheek with his forefinger. "We ought to do something about that."

"Like what?" I snapped defiantly.

His gaze hardened. "Like put you in your place."

Rivulets of sweat were already trickling down my back as he tipped me back and exposed my slit. He rested his cock on my thigh. Not far, but not close enough for me to hump. He held my left knee, forcing my legs wide and watching as my slit parted. Arousal glistened at my entrance and beaded along one side of my slit.

He licked his lips. "I bet you taste like sugar."

"I bet you're dying to replace out."

He grinned maliciously. "I bet you can't handle three minutes of me eating you out."

"I bet you-"

Shock rocked my system as he dropped to his knees and plunged his tongue into my wet heat. Three slow laps froze my hips in place. Not like that mattered considering he had a hard grip on my hips. He rocked me forward, forcefully nudging me against his mouth with short bursts of energy. It felt good enough to lose myself to it and I mewled ceaselessly under the affectionate swirl of his mouth.

One minute was pure torture. Two minutes was more than I could bear. Three minutes would have been doable were it not for the way he flicked my c**t. I pinched my lips shut as my o****m crashed into me, hips bucking wildly and giving me away. I grabbed the back of his head. I refused to let him go.

And then came the second orgasm. I rode his mouth with long, jagged thrusts that made me ache from the inside out. I crested high and dropped low, so low that I thought I would faint. Just as I teetered forward, Isaiah caught me, pitching me back so my shoulders rested on the wall.

"Don't worry, baby," he assured in a low voice. "I'll give you another. Soon as you give Daddy a kiss..."

My mouth clasped his in an instant. It was hotter than midsummer in here, steam cloaking the air and thickening the musk of our combined scent. Everybody would know that we had banged in here.

And honestly, I didn't care. This was what I needed. To just bang it out. To get it out of my system so he would stop being such a jerk.

He smacked his lips away. "Good girl."

The compliment switched something inside me, turning the formless void of my sexuality into a ravenous animal. My wolf howled for more as Isaiah tipped my knees toward my chest, exposing more of my slit as he skimmed the mess with his c**k. The tip alone was intimidating-I wasn't sure if I could take him.

I met his gaze.

Of course I can take him, I thought. I'm not going to lose.

He rested my knees over his shoulders and propped his hands on my bottom, scooting me toward him as he perched at my entrance.

The pressure came first. It was a knot in my core for a moment, a temporary suspension of effort for me to hold back my sounds. A gasp broke through and then my breathing labored as he sank slowly inside me. He nudged my chin with his mouth, encouraging me to look up at him. "Breathe," he urged. "Come on, sugarplum...that's it...keep breathing..."

Long breaths shifted to low mewls as I held his gaze. Had his eyes always been such a bright green? They reminded me of the first time I pictured him without even trying-those eyes were intense, gorgeous, brilliant, and secretly illuminating. What else could I replace out about Isaiah that would blow my mind wide open?

I found a rhythm with him, working my hips to his tune with eager thrusts that broke me apart. Everything about him drove me wild yet I found myself yearning for his approval. I wanted his gaze to stay hooked on me like this forever, to have his attention snagged, to be the focus of his praise and care.

No, that couldn't be right. Good dick didn't make me drool and call a guy Daddy. Though this was getting pretty close. I was just starved for affection. I was simply deprived of good sex, of any sex. This had nothing to do with his muscles or his competitive nature. Though it wouldn't have to be competitive for much longer. His thrusts grew shorter along with his breaths as he diligently pumped into my slit. The pressure had disappeared, replaced instead with a grand feeling of satisfaction, one that I knew I would keep chasing until I found it again.

But this sure as hell wasn't going to happen again.

"Stop it," he warned. "Look at me. Think of me." "But...but I..."

His mouth crashed into mine, silencing me effectively. Each heated kiss amplified the electricity crackling in my center, sending waves of furious pleasure to every corner of my body. The table rocked under me. The feet of the table squeaked on the floor. The back of the table rammed the wall.

I came undone. And he came right with me.

He clung to my hips as I clawed his upper back. We collapsed seconds later against the table, trusting it to hold our combined weight, though that was probably an awful idea. Just like banging each other. Just like doing it in a toolshed where anybody could happen upon us.

I had never felt so alive.

When he pulled out, I thought my insides would spill. I hugged my stomach while clenching my thighs together, whimpering while I felt our combined fluid trickle from my slit. Well, that was just great. Now I had to clean up the mess from between my legs and from the floor. I was never going to live this down. Somebody was going to tease me senseless.

And then he did something completely strange.

He cleaned me up. He sat me upright. He gathered my clothes and insisted on helping me into them. As soon as each article of clothing was back in place, he set me on my feet and urged me toward the door.

"Go on," he whispered. "I'll handle this."

"But what...what did...are you...?" Gods, what was I even trying to say?

He calmly stepped into his pants and pulled them up. "That was something."

"We just needed to, uh..." To what? Fuck each other senseless? I cleared my throat nervously. "You know, tension."

"Right, tension." But he didn't sound convinced either as he snapped his belt into place.

Who was I kidding? This had been a mistake. Isaiah wasn't anything more than a fuckboy with a preoccupation for being in charge.

My slit throbbed with renewed desire. I kept trying to convince myself that I didn't need him. He was old news. He was a toy that looked shiny at first-and only because I couldn't keep him.

That was it. That was all Isaiah was to me: a toy.

And that was all he would ever be.

But if that was true, then why couldn't I shake the feeling that I would be empty without him?