Page 52 of Rejected Bullied Mate

“Yeah. Why not?"

I snorted, amused. "Typical man. We should choose the date together. Or better yet, let me plan it so we don't end up hiking or just running in wolf form again."

Samson gave a wry smile, and I grinned back. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I felt my cheeks grow warm.

"Fair enough.” He finally agreed. “Anything you want to do, we can do when you're off work, of course. But I have a price for being so understanding."

"...yeah?"

He paused, leaning forward so that his lips brushed my ear. "You have to let me kiss you right here, in front of God and everyone who comes into this shop."

I pulled back to look at him, shocked. "You'd really do that?"

"Why not? You're mine, aren't you?"

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the grin that was spreading across my face. "Yes," I said, nodding slowly. "Yes, I am."

"Good," he murmured, pulling me against his chest. His hands slid around my waist, drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed against one another.

Samson dipped his head, brushing his lips against mine. They were soft and warm, and I sighed into the kiss. His fingers tangled in my hair as he tilted my head back, his tongue delving into the cavern of my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back hungrily.

Samson let out a low growl, his grip tightening around my waist. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his hips. My back hit the wall of the shop, and he pinned me there. He broke the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he nuzzled my throat.

He kissed me again, slow and languid, like we had all the time in the world. I clung to him, lost in the feeling of his mouth on mine. I could feel his cock hardening against my thigh, and when he pulled back to look at me, his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"I want you," he said darkly, his hands sliding up my thighs. "Right here, right now."

Work, work, you're at work,my mind chanted, and it took every bit of my willpower to unwrap my legs from around Samson and stand again. "Later," I promised. He groaned in disapproval when I stepped away, fixing my now chaotic hair and clothes. "Stop trying to get me fired."

He huffed, but there was a smirk on his lips. "It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen."

"It would be to me," I said, pointing a finger at him. "Now behave, and let me finish up. I'll see you at home."

He narrowed his eyes, but he gave in, "Fine. But we're revisiting this tonight. After our date."

I smiled at him, and he leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Looking forward to it."

"I'll see you later," he said, heading toward the door. "Don't keep me waiting too long."

***

I clocked out at 2:30, handing over the door keys to Debbie and throwing my apron in the dirty linen bin. It was warm, only a slight breeze rustling the trees, which was exactly why I'd walked to work that morning. Samson hated it, but it was good exercise.

It was only a few miles back to Samson's house—well, our house now, I guess—and I enjoyed the walk, especially with the sun on my skin.

I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, sighing as the wind cooled the sweat on my neck. Business had picked up in the afternoon, and I couldn't wait to get out of my jeans and t-shirt and take a shower. Maybe even soak in the tub for a bit. I hummed, turning onto the sidewalk that led to the house. I wasn't quite sure how my night was going to go. I had a few date ideas, but I'd decided to try and convince him to give me a few days to plan. There wasn't much interesting going on in town on a Tuesday night, anyway.

I was lost in thought, flipping through date ideas, when something changed.

A smell, maybe. Or a sound. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but I knew something wasn't right. It was almost like a sixth sense, a shift in the air around me. I stopped, looking around. The forest was quiet, too quiet. There were no birds chirping, no squirrels skittering through the brush. I couldn't even hear the wind through the trees.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I started walking again, a little faster this time. Whatever it was, it didn't feel like it was a good thing. I wished I'd brought one of Samson's bodyguards with me, but I thought I'd be safe on such a short walk home. I was beginning to regret that decision.

Then I caught the scent on the wind—Nayeli, and blood, just inside the forest that ran along the sidewalk. Instantly, I followed the scent, and the closer I got, the more I could feel her distressed energy. I should have called Samson, Waylon, or anyone else, but Nayeli needed help immediately, and I wasn't thinking straight.

The trees thinned ahead, and then I saw her, horror washing over me. Nayeli, her face contorted in pain, was caught in an old bear trap. I sprinted to her side, kneeling down next to her, panic making it hard to breathe.

"It hurts," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "I-I tried to get out, but..." She sobbed, trying to twist her foot away from the metal teeth clamped around her ankle. Blood dripped onto the forest floor, staining the leaves beneath her.

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