Page 32 of Betrayed Bullied Mate

Aris turns the water off and steps out of the shower, toweling off quick. He glances out into the hallway as though he’s expecting some sort of threat to be there, lingering.

“Come here,” I say. “Please.”

He pulls me into his chest, closing his eyes and tucking my head beneath his. We stay like that, breathing together, our bodies close, and I feel the strangest sense of contentedness. Like I could stand here for the rest of my life and not be bothered by a thing.

“I’m sorry, Linnea,” Aris murmurs sleepily into my hair. “We can’t rest for long. We have to prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“If Varun’s rogues are headed this way, we don’t have enough manpower to take them on. We need to strategize, fight smarter than them.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” I say, rewarded when Aris gives me a sleepy smile. He nuzzles into me, groaning deep in his chest.

“I just want to take you to bed,” he complains, his hands tightening on my hips, pulling me closer to him.

“To sleep, or…?” I ask, giggling into his chest.

“Both,” he says gruffly, and I feel his member getting hard again, already pressing into my leg. “I felt peace for perhaps a minute after I had you the first time. Now I’m back to being tortured.”

The knowledge that he needs me and wants me this bad ignites a fire in me. I consider dropping to my knees right here, right in front of him. I see his eyes widen and wonder if he can read my intentions on my face.

Aris grips my biceps and leans down, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“I wish we could,” he says, letting his head fall back, exposing his Adam’s apple. “You have no idea how badly I want to do that.”

“I have some idea,” I murmur, rubbing my hips against his growing erection. He hisses through his teeth and clamps his hands down on my hips, moving me to the side and pushing past me.

“Temptress,” he growls, and I turn, following him into the living area. When he drops the towel and starts to dress, I feel myself getting wet. I want him, have wanted him nonstop since he first arrived in the bar. I thought having him would sate the desire, but now that I’ve had a taste, I just want more.

The room falls quiet for a moment, and I sit on the edge of an armchair, watching Aris as he pulls on what looks like tactical gear. His curls are damp, flopping across his head, and I want to run my hands through them, tug them out.

“Aris,” I say, twirling the fringe of a throw blanket between my fingers. “Are you… Do you picture yourself staying in Rosecreek? After all this is done?”

“What?” he asks, standing up straight and looking at me quizzically.

“I just—I know why you left the first time. After everything, when—when Varun is gone. Do you think you’ll stay?”

Annoyance passes over his features, and I tug harder on the blanket, suddenly anxious to hear his answer. I was willing to leave before he got here—would I follow him back to D.C.? Wait for him there while he went off on adventures with his team?

At the thought of leaving Rosecreek—really leaving this time—and leaving behind Aris’s legacy, my gut twists.

I try to parse out what he’s thinking, but his face is shrouded in frustration.

“That’s not really something I can afford to think about right now,” he says, “I have to focus on the mission first.”

“Okay,” I say, a lump lodging in my throat. “Do you—I mean, what do you think is going to happen with us? Since we’re blood-bonded now—”

“Linnea, is there a reason we have to talk about this right this second?” Aris snaps, turning to me as he buckles his belt. Even feeling anger and nervousness at his caginess around the subject, I have to admire how good he looks in his gear, and the thought flits through my mind of what it would be like to take it off of him, piece by piece.

“It’s important—”

“But why now? Why discuss it right before I’m about to go out and prepare my team for a potential attack?”

“Because I love you!” The words burst out of me before I can think, and I swallow, rocking back on my heels and staring at him. He’s looking right back at me, those dark eyes wide with surprise. The air between us is heavy with anticipation, and my heart palpitates, waiting for him to say it back.

He must love me, right? Who could be mated, with a blood-bond, and be as tender as he is without loving me back? I think of him holding me, brushing the sweaty hair from my forehead, kissing my neck. He must love me. All he has to do is say it.

“Boss,” someone says, opening the door to the cabin without knocking, and Aris turns, growling at the door. Percy steps back, holding up his hands. “Sorry! Didn’t know the lady was in here with you.”

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