AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My soft bed, with all the pillows and blankets? Even after four weeks away, it would still smell like me.
I was so fucked.
Chapter 8
Valentine
The shower had been a good idea. I’d washed all the embarrassing slick away, then bundled the wrecked blanket into the dirty laundry, even though a part of me had wanted to carry it around, since it had a hint of that lovely spa scent on it. Though the whole house had it, too. I’d need to ask Donovan what air freshener he used.
Now I was clean, and only a bit tired. I’d also taken another pill, though I knew that wasn’t safe. Still, it was an emergency. I’d have to tell my doctor later.
The cramps had eased somewhat, even if I hadn’t been able to have an orgasm in the car, or in the shower, even using the fancy detachable shower head. I was almost glad.
Sure, Donovan had been helpful and kind. But he’d made it clear I was a client. Not old enough. And even if I had a suspicion we could be true mates, he had smelled me in the Hummer and hadn’t reacted any more than any alpha might. He hadn’t said anything about my scent, or even tried to touch me more than he had to.
He hadn’t tried again since carrying me inside, even though my fingers had been itching to caress the harsh lines of his face, his body, ever since. I needed to drill it into my own head that even if he did make me feel safe, I wasn’t anything more than a job to him.
I’d almost convinced myself that I’d imagined the touch that had sparked in my imagination, until I walked into his room and sat on the bed.
I had on a silky robe that I’d found in the towel cupboard and nothing else, since my underwear hadn’t been salvageable. But the mild aromas of the shampoo, and the laundry detergent on the robe, were overwhelmed by a new scent as soon as I sat on the bed. Cedar and eucalyptus, a little stale, but still potent, rose in a haze of masculine scent from the bedding.
The smell I loved more than anything else in the world pulled me into the downy comforter, and I buried my face in it, sucking up great lungfuls of it, delirious with a rush of lust.
And then pain.
My slick was already flowing again, dampening my thighs, but the cramps were less painful than my heart when I realized what this meant.
“Valentine?” I lifted my eyes to the open doorway. He stood there, a remorseful expression on his face, his hands in fists at his sides. “I’m sorry. I should have changed the sheets. Sprayed them down.”
He may as well have torn my heart out. He was sorry… about the sheets, or that he was my mate? Or both?
All my thoughts tumbled together. “You had scent-blocking spray on. But… but I didn’t. You knew. You knew we were true mates, and… Oh.” I curled my nails into my palms, wishing there was any pain in the world that could distract me from the tearing feeling in my heart.
“I didn’t know until tonight. Your perfume… I suspected. But I didn’t know until?—”
“Until I was off the suppressants, and you touched me,” I finished for him. “And then you tried to hide it. You were so careful. You don’t want me, do you?” He flinched. “Of course you don’t. Why would you?” He took a step toward me, opening his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand. “Please leave. I have the toys, thanks to you. I’ll handle my heat alone.”
I slid off the bed, my back to the door, moving toward the bag. I didn’t have any intention of using them—there was no way I could reach some mythical climax when my heart was bleeding out inside me—but I hoped it would spur him to get out and shut the door, so I could cry alone.
I’d cried alone so many times that I’d gotten good at being quiet. I was pretty sure my sisters knew how often I broke down, but… Shit. I needed to call them. They’d be worried about me.
I heard the door close and almost cursed aloud. Now I would have to go out there and face Donovan again. I had no choice.
I wasn’t in the habit of swearing, but Nessa and Tori called them power words, and had informed me that sometimes, only a power word would do. This was surely one of those times. “Fuck,” I muttered.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t use that kind of language,” a gravelly voice said, right behind me. Inside the room.
I squeaked and jumped up, feeling hands on my arms. Huge hands, moving from my wrists until they wrapped entirely around my biceps, pushing the robe up slightly as he trailed his fingers up my arms. The lightning feeling shot through me again, but muted now. “I asked you t-to leave,” I said, proud that I was holding my ground.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby girl,” was all he said.
“I need your phone.” I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the sex kitten that had gotten stuck in there. Honestly, I never sounded throaty and needy. “I have to call my sisters.”
“That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “And I need to take a shower. Then we’ll talk.” When he let go of me, I slumped to the bed, fighting to ignore the new cramps that had started up like a series of pain-quakes in my uterus. Silently, he handed me his phone, unlocked it, and left the room.
My sisters’ numbers were programmed in, and I chewed at my lip, unsure which one to call. I couldn’t text; they knew I did that when I was trying to hide things from them. The amount of stammering I did was their clue to how I really was, so they always insisted on calling when the conversation was going to be intense.
Tori was more likely to come barreling down the road with a dozen Marines she’d convinced to murder Donovan. Nessa was slightly saner when it involved people hurting me, or even my feelings. But only slightly.
