Chapter 23 #2
“I’m sorry about what I said.” Krys shook his head. “You never mentioned anyone, so I just assumed you’d never been in love.”
I thought about all my casual relationships.
“Men weren’t openly gay in the South two hundred years ago, so I mostly dated women in the early years.
The few men I did catch on my radar avoided me, afraid I would expose them.
I spent a lot of time around straight men.
Some not as straight as they pretended to be,” I said with a fiendish grin.
“You never got serious with a man?”
“They didn’t want a relationship, and neither did I.”
He sipped his vodka. “Were you always out?”
“Yep.” I leaned back in my chair and widened my legs.
“I’m a social creature. If I’m in a casual relationship, I want a partner who’s not embarrassed to be seen with me.
” My gaze fixed on a group of women dancing together.
“I once had a therapist tell me I needed a partner who would take care of me the way my father didn’t.
” I gave a mirthless laugh. “That man set a low bar.”
Darcy circled the table and then poked her head next to mine. “I think you like unattainable guys because your father wasn’t there for you, and that’s familiar.”
I gave her the evil eye when she sauntered over to Krys and stroked her finger across his shoulder.
“You’re attracted to men who don’t pose a threat,” she continued.
“A threat of what?” I fired back.
She rolled her eyes. “Of forming a relationship, you big dummy.”
“What do you know?”
“Well, you’re acting like it’s their fault because they didn’t want to come out, but maybe you’re choosing straight and closeted guys because you’re too scared to love anyone.”
“Just like you’re scared to be alone?” When I realized I was ignoring Krys, I shook my head. “Sorry.”
Krys sat back. “Don’t be. I wish I could hear what she’s saying, but I’m cool if you want to talk to her.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to hear this woman psychoanalyzing me.”
Darcy draped herself across the table like a Thanksgiving runner and batted her eyelashes. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
Annoyed, I put my arm through her chest to collect my glass.
Darcy swatted at my arms. “Stop that!” She flew off the table while I set the empty glass upside down.
Krys glanced at a guy strutting by our table, checking us out. “If you ever get mated, will it be with a man or a woman? Or both? I don’t get the bisexual thing.”
I played with my necklace. “I’m attracted to both, but I’m not polyamorous.”
“Poly… What the fuck is that?”
“Just because I like both doesn’t mean I want a relationship with two people.”
My thoughts drifted, as this wasn’t a topic I’d spent a lot of time dissecting. I’d never wanted a relationship, so I hadn’t considered what kind of relationship interested me if I were to have one. Gender wouldn’t matter to me, but would it matter to the pack?
The fact that I was contemplating a relationship at all, let alone having this conversation with Krys, shut me up fast. Lost in my thoughts, I watched two Sensors exchanging magic at a nearby table.
Krys put his hand on mine. “What if we do a little more experimenting? Find out if I’m really…”
I retracted my hand at the idea that he wanted to use me. I’d been down this road before, and I should’ve never started it. “No, no, no.”
“What?”
“I’m not ready to chaperone another gay awakening.”
He jerked his head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The thought of building more intimacy with Krys, only to have him realize I wasn’t his type, would destroy me. My feelings for him were already in the danger zone.
“I’m your packmate, not your plaything” came out of my mouth instead. I felt like a dick for saying it bluntly, but I was scared.
He angrily kicked back his chair and stood. “You’re an asshole.”
I watched him stalk off in those sexy-ass leathers while contemplating why the sensory drink, which was supposed to reduce inhibitions, was having the opposite effect on me. My insecurity was showing.
A shirtless stud with a dark mohawk and tattoos clocked him. Each of his abs needed their own zip code. When Krys started to pass by him, he blocked him. This guy had the same vibe as Krys, and he oozed masculinity. They talked for a minute before sitting together on the couch.
Is he goading me?
When the creep eyed Krys like his next meal, all my restraint flew out the window. My wolf growled with jealousy, so I got up and casually strolled over.
Don’t let him see you upset.
I coolly sat on the couch opposite them, crossed my legs, and spread my arms over the back. The only things between us were ten feet of air and decades of trauma.
The peevish look he gave me put a knot in my stomach. Krys reacted to my calling his bluff by pulling the stranger in for an unsolicited kiss. Not just a peck—it was hot and heavy. Tongue action, lip biting, and lots of unnecessary touching.
My fists clenched while Mr. Mohawk’s hand skimmed down Krys’s arm before resting on his thigh.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I shot out of my seat.
Krys had found the courage to kiss a stranger, and I completely lost my ability to watch like I didn’t care.
I did care.
If that sleazeball didn’t take his grubby little hands off him, I was going to break every last one of his fingers.
Our server hurried by in her pink skirt and black top.
I summoned her over. “See that irresistible man with my friend? The one with the mohawk? He’s feeling generous and wants to buy a round of drinks for the people in our section.”
She arched an eyebrow, but when she glanced at them, Mohawk Man was nibbling on Krys’s ear. “Will do.”
After she bounced away, Darcy waved her hands in front of my face. The magic was good tonight. It was harder to perceive her, but more importantly, I hardly noticed the one-eyed specter drifting by or the phantom in white doing wild spins by the bar.
I gathered up all my sexual prowess and encroached on their private space to steal Krys away. In truth, I didn’t like being the pursuer, but watching them leave together wasn’t an option I could live with.
“Mind if I have a turn?” I gave the man a sultry smile. “I’ll warm him up for you.” With an outstretched hand, I shifted all that sexual energy to Krys. “Dance with me.”
He wiped his mouth, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t dance.”
“Suit yourself.”
Two can play at this game. You have no idea who you’re messing with if you think you’re the only one who can stir the pot. I’m the master of the spoon.
The music flooded my senses as I made my way through the room and down the steps to the dance floor. A woman was performing a sensory exchange, her glowing red hands pressed to the man’s chest, ecstasy painted on his features.
I passed a Mage who was flashing around his partner and making her dizzy.
When I reached the center, I spied Krys’s silhouette peering over the wall.
Dancing was second nature, and my body flowed in serpentine movements to the beat of the music. Some danced alone, and others were coupled up. I danced with a woman before moving my way through the crowd.
A blue spotlight illuminated me. I basked in the attention while undulating my hips to an erotic song. My wolf rose to the surface so I could harness his power, and I deliberately looked up at Krys, who watched me from above.
This was all for him.
An arm curved around my waist from behind, and I moved it away.
Krys sat on the wall, but I couldn’t see his face for all the lights and shadows. He would never dance with me. Too self-conscious. Mr. Cool.
Two arms locked around my chest, and a man’s erection ground against my ass. I tried to pry him off, but his grip was iron.
“Don’t run from me,” he growled in my ear. “Let it happen.”
I didn’t like strangers groping me without my consent, so I kicked him in the shin.
Everything happened so fast. One minute Krys was sitting on top of the wall. The next, he swung his legs over, jumped down to the dance floor in cinematic fashion, and landed in a crouched position.
He stood with a feral gaze, and it was easy to see what fighters had once faced in the cage matches. For a split second, I wasn’t sure if he was coming after me or Mr. Handsy.
Krys gripped the man’s arm and bent it away. “Get your hands off my wolf.”
“Yours?” The man laughed. “He doesn’t look taken. Finders keepers.”
My heart thumped in my chest when Krys wrapped his arms possessively around my neck. “He’s mine.”
I wanted to swoon right there in his arms, but somehow my Jell-O quivering legs managed not to buckle as Krys began rocking in a sensual rhythm.
My God, is he dancing with me?
I wanted to slap myself to see if it was really happening.
He slanted his eyes to the people around us, and when he slowed his pace and bit his lip, his uncertainty became a red flag waving in front of my face.
Irritated, I stepped out of his hold. “You just made out with a stranger five minutes ago, and now you’re shy? Or is it me? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re embarrassed to be with me.”
When I turned to walk away, he snatched my wrist and snapped me back into his arms.
The heat between us was instantaneous.
“It’s not you,” he said firmly, leaving no doubt. “It’s not being gay either.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
He sighed. “I can’t dance. I feel like an idiot. People are looking.”
“They’re looking at the hot guy on the dance floor.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and rocked my hips. “Do what I do.” When he stood frozen, I moved his hand on my hip.
Krys mirrored my provocative but basic moves until we were in sync.
The energy between us crackled.