Of course he does. Three years of not wanting to be anywhere near me and now he can’t keep away.
“I’m trying to play nicely, but if you keep acting like a brat, then I’ll throw you over my shoulder again. And this time I won’t let you go so easily.”
What the fuck? Who the hell does he think he is? And why do I want to push his buttons and see what happens? Heat pools low in my belly as shame flushes my cheeks. He knows. Hesmellswhat he does to me, and his nostrils flare as the scent of my arousal hits him.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” I grit out. I’m going for outraged, but really, I’m humiliated. Yup, deep burning shame at the thoughts of my fucking nemesis knowing how hot he makes me. It’s not fair that female arousal can be scented but males can hide theirs.
“Are you going to stop being a brat and talk to me?”
“I’m not a brat!” I mutter while crossing my arms. Shit, that totally sounded bratty, didn’t it? “Ugh. Fine, talk.”
“Not here,” he says as he grabs my elbow and leads me to one of the free bedrooms. Sparks erupt where his hand touches me, and I pull away from his grasp as if it burns. I lift myself to sit on the desk, crossing my legs to reduce the chances of him noticing any further arousal.
“I need to understand what bisexual means.”
What an unbelievable asshole! Is he actually that ignorant? He really can’t even Google things? I shouldn’t have to explain this to him. But I want to get this conversation over and done with. I guess I’m playing teacher today.
“Well, Luca, being bisexual means being attracted to both males and females. For some, it leans more towards one sex or the other. Any other questions for today’s sex education class?”
I raise an eyebrow and stare at him. He leans back against the bedroom door, crosses his arms in front of him, and looks at me as though I’m the pack idiot. I fucking hate that look. It’s especially annoying when he is the one asking stupid questions.
“I want to know what it means when you have a mate. Will you always feel like you are missing out?”
His words hit like a punch to the gut. This. This is what I feared most—that I wouldn’t be believed. That fate would erase who I am in the eyes of others when I ended up with either a male or a female. As if I can’t be queer if I end up with a male.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I bite out, rubbing my temples at this line of questioning. “I’m not polyamorous, so when I’m with someone, that’s it. It’s like this: you like blondes and brunettes—”
“I only like brunettes.”
“Okaaay, your last few girlfriends have all been blonde, but whatever, that’s not the point. Let's say youdolike both blondes and brunettes. If you are with a brunette, does that mean you are craving what you’re missing out on because you also like blondes? Or do you focus your energy on who you are with and forget everyone else? When I take a mate, I won’t feel like I’ll be missing out because I will only want them. Male or female.”
His jaw ticks, and he stands there for a moment as he weighs my words. Probably deciding if they are sufficient or if this is his out. Maybe he can stop pretending to like me now.
“I stopped dating brunettes years ago.”
“Okay? Who you choose to date is not really my concern.”
“Ask me why I stopped dating brunettes, Fia.”
I let out an exasperated breath, so ready for this conversation to be over. I might not be planning to accept our mate bond, but that doesn’t mean I want to think of him with someone else. My wolf is pacing, ready to pounce on him. I’m not sure if she wants to attack him or fuck him, but this conversation certainly isn’t endearing him to either of us.
“I started staying away from brunettes because I wanted one brunette. And I needed to go for females who were the opposite to her so that I could continue telling myself I didn’t want her.”
Hearing him talk about wanting someone else shouldn’t mean anything to me. I don’t want him either. So why does it sting so much? My wolf is thrashing at me, telling me to hunt her down. Annihilate any challengers for her mate.
“So I went for blondes, humans, omegas, generally people who were nothing like you. Because you were too young. I felt like such a fucking sleaze,” he says as he begins to pace backwards and forwards across the room. He runs a hand through his hair, dislodging strands that fall across his forehead. His jaw clenches, and the muscles in his neck strain as he paces, his breaths becoming shallow and quick.
“You were barely eighteen, and I was twenty-fucking-seven. It was messed up. Wrong. And I tried to distance myself. And you kept doing the same shit you always did. But you didn’t stay Ryan’s cute little sister. You became this,” his gaze devours me, “thiswarrior goddess. My cock was rock hard every time I saw you. You used to sit on my lap, and I used to give you hugs, and I couldn’t do any of that anymore. Not without you realizing what it was doing to me.”
My mind melts into a puddle of confusion. Is he actually saying that helikedme back then? Luca continues to pace back and forth. His eyes glow icy blue, almost silver, letting me know his wolf is close to the surface.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re wrong when you think I didn’t like you. That I don’t like you now. I’ve been fucking obsessed with you for years. You are all I want. All I have wanted. And it felt wrong before with the age difference, but it doesn’t feel wrong anymore. It feels so fucking right.” His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, the words tumbling out of him in a rush, like he can’t keep them contained for a moment longer.
“Don’t you see? I had to push you away. It was the only way I could keep you safe and not corrupt your goodness with my fucked-up desires. The only way I could control my wolf’s need for you. My need for you.”
He strides over to where I’m sitting on a desk, his steps purposeful as his gaze eats me up. He wrenches my legs apart and steps between them. I’m lost in the moment when he pulls me to the edge of the desk and grinds his hard cock against my core. He runs a hand up my chest, grazing my breast briefly before wrapping his hand around my throat.
