“You wanted to get mated.”
“Before someone killed me. They almost killed me. Too late.”
“I saved your life.”
“You want a badge proclaiming you a hero?” I sneer, rolling my eyes.
“No, I mean, I saved you. You didn’t die, which means the deal is still on the table,” he explains, grinning as if he just solved world hunger or something.
“I did die. I flatlined. Althea said so,” I correct him, feeling my own mouth twitch when he snarls.
“But you didn’t. Flatlined doesn’t mean your heart stopped completely! You were still—for all intents and purposes—alive.”
“Because a machine was keeping me that way!”
“Semantics.” He waves me off airily, as I grind my teeth and glare.
“You’re being difficult. I told you I changed my mind,” I say slowly, so the gorilla understands what I’m saying.
“Well, you can’t,” he says and chuckles, his fingers stroking my knuckles tenderly.
“Of course, I can. I’m a female. We were born with this gene sequence.”
“Er—”
“Not now, Mom! She almost makes sense but—that isn’t the point. Baby, you can’t change your mind because I didn’t just blood you,” he says patiently, his mouth twitching when I go still and swallow, avoiding the enrapt gazes of the buffoons still polluting my room.
“Didn’t…what did you do to me, you freak?” I screech, struggling fruitlessly to get my hand back.
Logan doesn’t give it, instead leaning down to kiss my knuckles and softly lick one with a promising expression blazing from his green eyes.
“Do you feel your shoulder, Han?” he asks, laughing when I try to punch him to get myself free.
He avoids it easily and hangs on, making me scream out a muffled yell of frustration before I stop struggling and frantically yank at the neck of my gown, craning my neck around to check my skin.
Oh my God.
“You, I—”
“Are welcome,” he says, as he cuts in, giving me a pained pout when I slap his hand and call him some very unflattering names. “What’s the problem? We’re Fated. And now that I’ve had some time to think about it, yeah, I want to mate. Well, I mean, it’s already as good as done,” he says smugly, giving me a lewd look that has my vagina screaming a wakeup howl.
“You…this…screw you!” I manage, my turmoil centered around the fact that I am so, pleasantly surprised.
This solves all my problems. I can live here, remain with my pack, and not fear anyone. I can…do stuff. I don’t know what stuff I will do, but I don’t have to worry about anything more stressful than just puttering around and trying to be normal.
If I can be normal.
“Soon, baby. God, I hope you heal soon. Claiming without sex is not easy to deal with,” he says and purrs, making me blush when everyone chuckles.
I shouldn’t be turned on by that or think about what it would feel like if we do have sex. If. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea. The reason I was willing to marry Bear is simple; he wouldn’t disappoint. I knew he loved me as a friend, not a mate; he was good in bed; and he never put strain on us by being clingy and possessive.
It was easy to fool him about who I am or what I was about. With Logan, I have the distinct impression he’s not going to be any of those things. We’ve had sex. And my vagina clenches when I think about it. It was out of this world. But as for the rest, he’s already clingy, just look at the way he grasps my hand tightly and refuses to let go.
He’s possessive. I haven’t missed the dirty looks he keeps throwing Clarke who hasn’t stopped stripping me since he got here. I don’t think mating Logan will allow for an easy relationship at all. In fact, I think the male will be all over me to ensure I do and say what is correct. At all times.
Because he wants sweet. Loving. Nurturing.
He wants what the females in his life have shown him is the right way. He wants someone who loves like his mom, is sweet like Mika, and who is strong like Prissy.
He wants the ideal, and I don’t blame him. A long time ago, I was still naïve enough to believe that exists and wanted it too.
I am not that ideal. I don’t know how to be. I don’t know if I want to be.
“Whatever you’re thinking about right now isn’t an issue, I promise you,” Logan says, interrupting my thoughts.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I don’t have to, Hannah. All I need to know is that you have nothing to worry about from here on out. We’re mated, whether you want to admit it or not. I’m in you already, and you’re going to be in me.”
“Could we not have this conversation in front of a roomful of voyeurs?” I huff.
He laughs, dipping his chin and glances at the visitors.
“Okay guys, shows over. I need some time to browbeat my mate,” he tells them, getting another round of laughter at my expense.
“No! Don’t you—!”
I’m cut off when they all start hugging me, one after the other with Banner giving me a resounding kiss on the lips that leaves me blinking and fighting a laugh when Logan snarls.
“You and I are gonna be drinking beer and eating cake together soon.”
His promise makes my eyes burn because it’s something we used to talk about when we were little. Banner wanted to taste beer because that’s what his daddy drank to relax, and I wanted cake; something my mom didn’t allow a lot of because she didn’t want me to be a fat child.
We mixed them together because at the time we thought we’d always be pals.
“Cake? Chocolate?” I ask, receiving a grin and another kiss, this one on the cheek when Logan snarls threateningly.
“Every flavor, Hannie,” he promises somberly, leaving when I nod and Logan’s chest is one continuous growl of sound.
When were alone, I turn to him, wanting answers because this is nothing like what I expected.
“What are you doing? Is this because you want me to find that little blonde cougar female? Fine! I’ll do it. I’ll try to find her for you. You don’t have to mate me anymore. I really don’t want you to!” I lie, trying for reasonable because angry doesn’t seem to be working.
“Liar. You want me.”
“You’re so humble,” I say and snort, scooting over when he leans closer.
His breath touches my lips, the heated caress of mint and coffee causing butterflies to set off a fluttering in my belly.
“I don’t have to be anything but honest here, Han. Sure, I would love it if you’d help me. Hell, I have no one else to turn to here, so you’d be doing me a huge favor, but the mating isn’t about that.”
“What is it about?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
I need to know. This isn’t the way things work in my world, so hearing that I don’t have to pay for something that will benefit me is not something I trust easily.
“Me, finally admitting to myself that I want you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long I’m ashamed to admit every female I’ve been with in the last few years wore your face in bed. I saw you when I was inside them, and it was your screams that I heard while I came. I know that’s not romantic or sweet, but it’s the truth. Maybe we fight and argue, and we won’t see eye to eye on everything, but whether it’s happily ever after or just you and me making things work, it will be you and me. Not your family or mine or all that bullshit I once believed about you,” he mumbles, softly kissing my lips.
“Logan, this isn’t a good idea. I was stupid and selfish to demand it in the first place!” I try, giving him an out that is more than acceptable.
He doesn’t take it though and leans in to peck my lips again, the way he licks his lips afterward as if tasting me sending my body into overdrive. Logan sniffs, scenting the beginning of my arousal and growls his frustration into the empty room.
“You were desperate and right. The only person who can protect you is your mate. Me. I have refused that job for far t
oo long now, believing that we can’t be happy together, but that ends here.”
“Why? For God’s sake, why now?” I demand impatiently.
“Because if you’d died in those woods it wouldn’t have mattered what I thought I felt, Hannah, it would have killed me. We’re not friends yet, and I accept part of the blame, but we’ve been lovers, enemies, and reluctant Fated. It’s time I let go of what I believed and learn the truth. You too, baby. It’s time you know who I am.”
I have nothing to say to that because any response I give wouldn’t change how badly I want that to be true. Saying nothing I lean back against my pillow and sigh when Logan shifts me over, coming down to pull me into his side.
The move is meant to bring us closer, and for a little while, before I sleep, I feel it and want more.
Chapter Thirteen
Hannah
I groan, staring around at the absolute mess I made and the batter on the ceiling, the white goo clinging to the rafters like tiny white shots of guilty evidence.
Dammit, this shouldn’t be so hard, I snarl silently, biting my lip as I inspect the damage and try to think of a way to repair it before Logan gets home.
The kitchen is a mess of bowls, utensils, and half burnt cookies that look like black pools of sludge—half burned, half baked. The counters are overflowing with the efforts I made to redo things to repair the initial mistakes I made, one of which turned out to be putting baking soda instead of sugar into a batter and having it all bubble and flow like lava. All over the oven.
The house smells terrible, the place looks like a bomb hit it, and worse, I can’t fix it because I still don’t know how the dishwasher works and I can’t find a stopper for the kitchen sink to hand wash dishes.
Not that I would. I mean come on, I’m not the hired help.
Okay, so maybe that’s a lie. I admit I would totally do something about this if I had the first clue where to start. It’s overwhelming though! There isn’t a spare inch of space, and the mess is everywhere.
God, how did I let it get this far, I ask myself, puffing a breath at a strand of hair that hangs in my eyes.
You wanted to show Logan that you can do something, the voice inside me laughs, chuckling when I snarl and glare at that fucking batter on the ceiling, the very fact that it’s still there boggling my mind.
How the hell did it get there?
“Yo, Han!”
I hear the voice and groan, standing completely still and letting Banner come and find me. I don’t acknowledge him, just keep glaring at the ceiling and wondering if I could somehow get up there to clean it off.
“Holy shit! What the heck happened here?” Banner asks, whistling when he looks around to see the extent of my destruction.
“I got bored.”
“So you decided to destroy the kitchen?” he asks, laughing when I huff.
“I didn’t decide to destroy the kitchen. It decided to destroy me! All I wanted was some cookies. I mean, I Googled the fucking recipe and did exactly what it told me to do.”
Mostly.
Who understands the oven setting really? That thing looks like it belongs on a NASA space station, not in a shifter’s kitchen goading me. Stupid dials don’t make sense.
“Well, it kicked your ass, babe,” he admits, standing back to peer around again.
“Noted. What are you doing here?” I ask, shuddering when I notice a spot of scorched cookie still clinging to the counter, the gooey center that didn’t bake dripping to the floor with a plop of derision that taunts me further.
“Nothing, just wanted to come by and see you, but I see I should have stayed away if this is what you call relieving boredom.”
“Stop laughing at me, you idiot. This isn’t my fault.”
“Well, I could argue that it isn’t not your fault, but that wouldn’t solve anything. Just shove it all in the dishwasher,” he says, as if he’s helping.
I blush, digging my toe into the floor while biting my lip and avoiding his gaze.
“You do know how to use the dishwasher, don’t you?” Banner asks after a beat of silence, making my cheeks redden even more.
“Do I look like the help?” I mumble, hating that it’s my first go to when I feel unsettled.
He sighs, taking me by the shoulders and turns me to face him, chucking my chin to get my eyes up to his. The move is affectionate and so is the smile he’s giving me before he laughs his ass off and shakes his head. Stupid bear.
“Babe, you look like a female who just got her ass kicked by a kitchen and is too ashamed to admit her failings and ask for help. Here, let me show you how this thing works, and you can help me clean up before Logan gets here. He’ll go mental if he sees this shit. You know he’s a neat freak, right?”
I sniff, following him to the dishwasher and roll my eyes in answer.
“He’s a freak alright,” I mumble, watching him grab plates, bowls and utensils to slide into the drawers before opening a cupboard to grab a box of what he explains is the dish detergent.
After showing me how to pour it and where, he closes the door and proceeds to tell me which dials to turn and what buttons to press. And just like magic, I hear the thing come to life and feel a smile cross my mouth.
“Easy. See, it’s not so bad. Now come on. We need to clean this place up while that load is washing. Hell, did you use everything in the cupboards?” he barks when it turns out we have to do four loads of dishes and use a scourer to clean the counters and cabinet doors where the mixer flicked batter.
If he’s being this critical, I am so not asking him to get the stuff on the ceiling, I think, ignoring his gibes.
It takes us an hour of pure, soul-destroying work before the kitchen is back to normal and every dish is returned to its place. By then I am starved, cranky, and ready to slap Banner’s face for his teasing and amusement.
Falling into a seat at the table, I sigh and concede that I maybe should not have constantly told the cook what an idiot she was for messing up coq au vin.
I can’t even mix milk, eggs, and sugar together without creating a bomb blast.
“This sucks! Your brother keeps reminding me that I should cook and do all that girly stuff, but I don’t know how!” I gripe, accepting a glass of wine when he sits down, his own beer making me smile.
“He’s just being Logan. He thinks that every female is born knowing how to do this stuff. Give him time.”
“Time? Banner, I have been here for two days, and in that time, he’s cooked for me, talked until I want to scream at him that I don’t care about anything he has to say, and been so out of character that I don’t know how to respond half the time. If I say what comes naturally, he’ll think I’m a bitch. If I ignore him, he just tries harder. How is this…?”
I trail off, not wanting to say that I feel as if I’m in the midst of an earthquake.
His eyes go soft, as if he sees right through me, and his mouth tips into a smile that is so like the little Banner who was my friend it makes me gulp back a sigh of regret.
“He’s not sure of what to do either, Hannah. Admit it, babe, you don’t make it easy. He tries to be sweet and you snap. He tries to be hard, and you go quiet. The male is as unsure of his next step as you are of what to do with all of this. I understand, but I don’t think he does. Give him a break, babe.”
I do, I really do. In the last two days he’s brought me into his home, had tons of clothes delivered, which I now know he chose personally, and he’s been as sweet as a male can be.
He’s doing everything he thinks I need, but honestly, it’s not even close. I expected to get here and have him rip off my clothes to seal the deal. Not baby me.
I want sex. I want to test his resolve and see if I am right and he’s still just an asshole who will reject me afterward. A huge part of me almost wants him to so that I can prove to myself I have been right to hate him all along.
The other part just wants relief, and yes, I don’t care if that sounds cheap. I haven’t had sex
in months, not since Bear and I ran into trouble. I like sex. It keeps me on a level playing field and gives me some kind of power.
Mostly I just want to have him inside me, claiming me, sliding so deep I feel that painful ecstasy that comes with being claimed hard. I sleep beside him and have dreams.
Dreams where Logan kisses me everywhere and licks me between my legs until I scream and come and claw at him for more. I dream of him inside me, coming at just the second his teeth sink into me, his seed shooting deep and taking root.
It’s all I can do to not show a speck of that need in the morning when I wake and he’s plastered to my back, his cock a thick presence where it’s shoved against my ass.
This morning, I almost ground myself against him my need was so great, my body demanding relief even as my mind yelled a warning.
“I don’t think I can do this, Banner. It’s so hard.”
“Hannah, you won’t know if you can until you try, babe. Trust me, whatever he’s feeling for you, it’s no easier on him. Just give yourself time. It’s been two days of you living together. He’s not about to jump you, no matter how crazy his instinct is, until he thinks you’re healed and capable of taking it. He’s not sure what else to do with you.” He laughs, making me snort.
“Trust me, your brother knows what to do with a female.”
I don’t feel jealous, not much, knowing that Logan is a whore wolf with more females under his belt than grains of salt in the shaker. Well, I do, but I content myself with knowing that if it’s supposed to hurt, then I win. I loved his best friend for years.
Guilt tries to take root, and I battle it back, biting my lip with a snarl when I hear footsteps coming towards the front door and a soft knock that tells me I am about to be tortured to death. With kindness.
“Fuck.”
“Oh hell, this is too funny.” Banner chuckles, rising to follow me to the door. “Please just try to be nice.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
“I’m not. Yesterday, you told my mother she smells like rancid honey and disappointment!” he laughs, his mouth twisted in a rueful grin.
“She kept asking me if I wanted young, how many, and what my family line was like with regards to twins. How the hell was I supposed to respond?” I mutter, pausing at the door to take a deep breath.
Greyriver Shifters Page 37
