Chapter 13 #3
Jason and Bailey? Wow. I’m reeling. I read it a second time, floored. Jason and Bailey. Is this why the guys were acting mysterious yesterday? She followed him to Rome and sometime since then, he identified her as his?
And she’s pissed? She’s not doing cartwheels and throwing a party?
He has to have done something pretty shitty for her to be anything but elated about this.
I mean, I’ve watched her moon after him for years.
For more than half our lives. Jason is hot.
And Jason is a good guy. A sweetheart, really.
Or he was until he recently started being a dick to her to try to scare her off, I guess.
And I hated watching her unrequited crush on him, which meant she was constantly crushed because Jase was sowing his oats every chance he got.
He even tried eye-fucking me one night at Roxy’s a few years ago after one of those glorious sweaty alpha wrestling matches on the patio. The air was full of alpha pheromones, and it was a lunar event, so a lot of unattached folks were pairing up for a romp.
He made eye contact with me and shot me one of his signature panty-removing smiles. I looked away and when I looked back, he was still staring, still smiling, knowing I got his message, his unspoken invitation.
Bailey wasn’t there to see it, thankfully, and it was time for me to leave.
You just don’t do that to your best friend, whether she’s watching or not and no matter how much you’ve had to drink and what the moon is telling you.
Despite my willpower, one of those Jason Creed smiles was hot enough I had to jump in the river for a cold swim before I went home alone.
Me: I want to hug you and congratulate you. This is everything you’ve wanted. But … if he’s been shitty to you, I say make him grovel!
Bailey: I don’t even want a grovel. It’s hard to explain.
Me: Shit. I’m sorry Bailey. Very sorry.
Bailey: Sorry for what you’re going through, too. I can’t imagine…
Me: Maybe you can help me. Can you see what you can find out about a shifter pack in Utah near the Wyoming and Colorado borders? And specifically Jared Stone? And if there’s something I can help you with, let me know.
Bailey: I don’t think I can get to the library until tomorrow. But as soon as I do, I’ll see what I can find out. Thanks for the offer but I’ve got a little bit of help here. For the moment, at least. Shit. Gotta go.
Me: Good luck.
Bailey: Good luck to you, too. TTYL
***
I bring Jared a sports drink. He’s looking at me warily, reaching for the leather mask.
I set the drink down close and can feel the tension rolling off him. I pretend I don’t notice.
“You want the door left open?”
“I want you to leave. Go home so I can unlock the rest of this shit and get gone.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine. Just go home for an hour. Then I can take a shower.”
He’s full of shit.
“You want to take a shower, take one.” I move the keys to hang them on a nail within his reach and add, “But I’m not leaving.”
“Woman…” he grumbles and it’s almost a growl, but not quite. Probably because the last time he growled, he saturated my underwear. He doesn’t want the temptation.
An idea hits. I do my best to give him one of those Jason Creed smiles.
He doesn’t even flinch.
“Riley brought a big thing of water and hooked it up. You and I could take a shower together,” I suggest.
He’s frozen still, trying not to react. But his heartrate just shot up.
“Maybe your wolf doesn’t like water. Maybe he won’t show up and we could… you know… help one another get washed up.”
He says nothing. He stares at the floor.
“Get washed up everywhere…” I add.
He swallows and rolls his eyes like he finds me annoying. But I know different.
“Everywhere,” I drawl.
Nothing.
“You put that cold river between us after you mated me. Because he hates the water? Or hates cold water?”
“I was trying to buy you time, figuring a swim would slow it down.”
“He wouldn’t get in the water to go after the council alphas either. He either can’t swim, is afraid of water, or hates it enough he won’t go into it even if he’s acting rabid, wanting to attack.”
He doesn’t know this about his own wolf, which is so strange. I can’t imagine being disconnected from mine.
“How about if we run a little experiment?” I try.
He’s frowning.
I wait.
Finally, he answers, “I’m not taking a chance with your life.”
“What did my father say to you?”
He flexes his jaw, not answering.
I wait.
Nothing.
I shrug. “A shower sounds heavenly, actually, so I’m gonna go take one now.
Maybe you wanna put that mask on and join me.
I’ll take the guns Linc left me. If you shift, you can’t bite me with that thing on your face.
I’ll zap you, call the alpha and beta that are stationed just two minutes away and then they can come drag your wolf back out here and put the restraints back on. ”
Not only is his heart beating faster, I eyeball his crotch and see a prominent dick print in his sweatpants. I bite my lip, keeping my eyes pointed there. He wants this. I know it; I feel it. And I want him to know I want it, too.
And now I’m wet, and I’m sure he knows it. He’s going to fuck me. He’s going to fuck me, and I’ll be pinned under his weight, feeling that knot again. Yeah. I’ve just made myself wetter.
I’m so fucking glad I get an alpha, get the knot. Because it’s the thing girls like me dream of having and the reality is even better than the fantasy.
He flexes his fingers before balling both hands into fists before he grabs the leather mask and puts it on.
A long moment of watching and listening to him deep-breathe passes before I walk away, leaving the door open and adding extra swish to my walk.
***
I lather up my hair and scrub my body everywhere, frantically, my heart beating hard with excitement.
I’m feeling certain he’ll come in here, so I want to be clean and free of suds.
He’ll come in and we can have what we both need.
It’s a small shower, but we can start it here and take it to the bed.
He’ll have that thing on his face so even if he shifts, he won’t be able to bite me. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, and it’ll be good. To touch him, feel him, hear him moan.
***
The water doesn’t take more than five minutes to run cold. And still, I wait another few minutes until my teeth are chattering.
He didn’t come in. He’s out there torturing himself instead.
After wrapping myself in a thick wine-colored towel and putting my hair in a matching one, I walk into the bedroom area and survey the laundry basket of clothes Ivy and Amie brought me.
I stare at the bed. Jared’s bed. Did he lie here thinking about me once he knew I was his fated mate?
Did he dream of me? Would he secretly enjoy that my scent is now on his new sheets?
Or will he just keep denying our connection? Just how stubborn is he? He must be pretty damn stubborn to resist the urge to claim me for however long, as well as to continue to deny what we could have.
Maybe everything about me is a disappointment to him, maybe that’s why it’s so easy.
No. That’s not it. He wants me. He wants me but won’t allow himself to have me because he’s afraid of his wolf killing me.
I feel like crying. But crying won’t get me what I want, what I need. No.
He might be stubborn, but I am the queen of stubborn.
It needs to be action, not tears. Action and maybe a little temptation.
I storm out there and find him with his head in his hands.
He’s not wearing the mask; it’s on the floor beside him.
The keys aren’t on the hook; they’re by the door.
Did he throw them away so he couldn’t follow me?
The stubborn jackass! I pick them up as I yank the towel off my head and throw it at him.
It hits his torso. He tosses it aside and as soon as he looks at me, I drop the other towel.
I stand still, seething. Seething and naked.
“Go,” he croaks out like he’s in pain.
He is. I don’t just see it, I feel it.
“No.”
“Go!” he gets louder.
“Fuck you,” I retort.
He laughs bitterly.
“No,” I amend, “Fuck me.” I step forward. “Fuck me, Jared.”
“Stop,” he raises a hand as if it’ll stop me from coming closer, but I continue closing in, not stopping until I’m directly in front of him.
I drop to my knees and my hands land on his thighs.
“Jared.”
I squeeze gently.
His eyes move from the ground to meet mine and they’re so full of pain my anger disintegrates. I reach for his face.
He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t even turn away.
I cup his stubbled jaw in one hand and stroke his cheek with my thumb.
“Jared,” I whisper again.
He leans into my touch for a split second before he turns his head and presses a kiss against my palm. And the look on his face, the way he does it, it’s everything.
It feels like my chest is splitting wide open.
I choke on a sob and he grabs me, pulling me directly against him, his mouth hitting mine, his tongue dipping inside.
I wrap my arms around him and hold tight as his mouth devours mine.
I melt. It feels so good. So right. This is my mate.
This is who I’m meant to spend my life with, have babies with, go on adventures with.
I’m supposed to shift and run and frolic with him in wolf form.
I’m supposed to grow old right beside him.
I’m suddenly on my back and he’s on top of me, pulling himself from his sweatpants, lining up, and filling me.
“Yes, baby,” I moan, raking my nails down his strong back.
He growls, pulling back and slamming forward, groaning when he hits the end of me. The heat and emotion in his eyes and our connection are everything.
He pulls back slowly, then slams forward fast, making my back arch. It’s rough. It’s dirty. And he’s watching it all. We’re on the cold and dirty floor and me being naked and still wet probably makes it rougher.