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“Oh…” I might not have the same kind of connection to his wolf as I do to Wilde’s, but I can hear the realization in his voice—and the guilt.
“Why did you do it?” I didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but it’s too late to do anything about it now.
“That’s not an easy question to answer.”
“And that sounds like a pitiful excuse, if we’re being honest.”
“I can see why you think that, but it doesn’t change anything.” He sighs heavily, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Besides, I already tried to explain it to you. I don’t know what else you want. A lot was going on, and—”
“Oh, did you have a lot going on? I have no idea how that feels. I was only standing there in the middle of my first shift after committing my first kill—oh, and I almost got beaten to death like a minute before that. But even I felt something going on. I didn’t understand it, but I knew it was there.”
He comes to a stop, groaning, looking up at the starry sky. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
No, and he’s not exactly trying, is he? “You know, I think I’m going to go to my room. I don’t feel like walking anymore.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t go back to the banquet?”
“You can if you want to. I’m not interested.” Not without Wilde being there. It’s not like we were spending time together, anyway. He barely spent five minutes at our table before disappearing. I guess he was looking for a wet hole to fill. Congratulations to him since he found one.
“At least let me walk you back to your room. It’s the least I can do.” I can’t tell if he thinks this is going to end well for him or not. Maybe he’s trying to be a gentleman.
Or maybe he’s looking to get laid. I guess both can be true at the same time.
“Okay.” We walk the rest of the way to the building in silence, and he stands back while I open the door closest to the elevator. All I want right now is to put on something comfortable—this dress and these shoes do not fit that description—and maybe hang out in front of the TV for a while. I’m in no mood to be around other people; that much is for sure.
At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at. Only half the overhead lights are on, so it’s fairly dim in the hallway between us and the elevator.
It’s when I hear slurping noises and soft groaning that everything becomes clear.
And I know who it is. I can smell him.
I feel like I swallowed acid, the burning in my chest and throat sudden, intense. Hannah’s on her knees in front of him, sucking his dick like her life depends on it. Her sloppy slurping noises turn my stomach and make the burning sensation stronger than ever.
“That’s right,” Wilde murmurs, sinking his hands into her hair—then turning his head, looking me straight in the eyes. I don’t know why I would expect him to put a stop to things now that they’ve been interrupted. If anything, his raised eyebrow tells me this was exactly what he wanted. For me to find them like this.
That eyebrow is a challenge. I know it. He wants me to lose it, doesn’t he? Like I’m supposed to be offended, hurt, betrayed. And damn it, that’s exactly how I feel. How dare he mark me, then act like it’s all a big joke?
And damn it, why does it have to be her?
“Well, looks like we know where my brother went.” To Forrest, this is clearly a big joke. I guess this is nothing new for them.
“It does look that way,” I agree, raising my voice enough for Hannah to hear me. But I keep things light, like I couldn’t care less either way. Like I’m not weak in the knees at the sight, sound, and scent of what’s happening in front of me. Hannah hasn’t stopped, either. She’s sucking harder, her head bobbing up and down, twisting from side to side. And is she moaning louder? How pathetic.
I am not going to sink to that level. My whole life, people have been trying to break me down for their own satisfaction. This is just another one of those times.
Mate. The word repeats in my head like a mantra. I can’t help but want to do the same thing they’re doing, and so much more. It’s bad enough I’m already out of control of my body—all I can do now is struggle to keep myself from falling to my knees and begging somebody to stick something in my mouth, immediately.
Instead, I hold Wilde’s gaze and lift my eyebrow in response. “Careful,” I call out. “She’s just recovered from a pretty serious injury. You wouldn’t want to choke her or anything like that.”
