Born to Be Wylde Read Online Free PDF

killer must have come looking for Ken when he’d disappeared with Wylde, trying to find out where he was….
So he could finish what he started?
    B ANG ! Bang!
Ken jumped. His jaw ticked, and he took a deep breath.
He was a cop, for God’s sake!
But he picked up his spare handgun from a drawer in a
Japanese altar table, and he carried it as he went to answer
the knock at his kitchen door.
Long black hair and a creased forehead. Worried blue
eyes.
Wylde, staring through the screen at him.
He unlatched the door, and he wasn’t sure if he moved
or Wylde moved or—
Pressed safe against hard muscle. He made a sound,
breathy, a little embarrassing.
He forced himself to pull away. “I thought….” He
swallowed, trying to get a grip. Knowing someone had been
in his cabin had really shaken him. “I thought you’d gone.” “He could come back,” Wylde said flatly.
“I know,” Ken agreed.
Wylde pulled him back into his arms, and Ken rested
the gun on the kitchen counter and laid his head against
Wylde’s shoulder. He kissed it fervently. They’d only been apart a short time, but it felt like something had been torn
away.
“Don’t go away again,” he whispered.
“You… want me?” Wylde seemed more hesitant than he
had when they’d been together previously.
“Yes,” Ken found himself admitting, sensing at some
level that Wylde needed reassurance. “I want you.” “I will stay,” Wylde promised.
K EN took Wylde to his studio.
    He unlocked the door, holding Wylde’s gaze as if he wanted him to understand something, and then left it open to the dusk mountain air.
    Wylde followed Ken inside, feeling as if there was something going on… some kind of significance to Ken inviting him into the workshop. He wished he could call Josh and ask him. Josh had advised him that telling Ken he’d watched him in the past would probably not go over well, but it had been too late. Wylde had already told him. But wasn’t he supposed to be honest with his mate?
    Anyway, Ken hadn’t seemed to mind, other than being startled by Wylde’s confession, and the truth was Wylde was too shy to have ever approached him. He’d only caught glimpses of him sometimes when he’d been coming back from bathing or fishing.
    There were skylights in the cedar peaked roof and a squat kiln at the very back of the space. Two long wooden tables, the maple bleached in white and brown smears crouched in the center of the studio.
    Wylde pushed aside the green branches of a large potted plant and stepped farther into Ken’s room, watching as the other man took a deep breath, looking around.
    “ He wasn’t here. I can’t feel him.”
Wylde knew Ken meant the man who had attacked him. Ken looked over his shoulder at Wylde, his serious
    almond-shaped eyes seeming more contemplative, calmer, as if being here was a good thing. He looked as he had in the cave, receptive.
Wylde pulled out a stool and sat down.
    “You don’t talk much, do you?” Ken noted, amusement in his tone.
“No,” Wylde said. He’d have to ask Josh what to talk about, maybe memorize some things so he could sound like a normal person.
“I like it,” Ken said, opening a plastic crate and pulling out a wrapped package of white clay. Wylde watched with interest as he cut off some part of it and then kneaded it on the white-stained wooden table. It looked like a big wedge of bread dough to Wylde’s eyes, reminding him of Alec teaching him and Josh how to make bread from scratch.
He felt an odd pang. He… missed Josh and Alec and Jade. He wanted to spend a day with them, knowing they understood him.
He wanted to ask them how to be someone’s boyfriend. They all had someone. He never had.
Meanwhile, Ken had finished working the clay. His face was still, pure, so he looked like a calm Samurai warrior from a painted scroll to Wylde, like what he might find in Seattle’s Asian neighborhood. Wylde wanted to move closer, put his hand on Ken’s skin, make him gasp….
Ken cleared his