Page 235 of Broken Bonds
“It’s not that he doesn’t listen to you guys. He believes me because he kind of adopted me mom before you rescued Freya. But absolutely, I will talk to him.”
“Thanks. Maybe come over for breakfast?”
“Sounds good.”
I see her out, check on the baby, and head to bed.
Mal’s sound asleep, curled up in a fetal position, still dressed. I carefully remove his shoes but nothing else, because I don’t want to wake him.
I strip and climb into bed. He instinctively snuggles against me, like I’m a magnet.
Times like these, even though I absolutely know I’m not the cause and I cannot “fix” it, I feel utterly helpless. Like the world’s worst mate.
I didn’t lie to Mal tonight. Not exactly. I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around with the omegas. Fuck around with Mal? Absolutely. I would’ve bounced him on my dick all night.
But I didn’t want to share that time with the omegas. The silly thing is, I didn’t feel jealous that Mal was going to do something with them. I wanted to watch him have fun.
But I wanted him all to myself for my fun, and I didn’t want to hurt the feelings of the omegas because I had no interest in them tonight.
In the back of my mind, I also think maybe it’s a good thing tonight abruptly ended. Because if Mal had gotten busy with the omegas and he realized he couldn’t get it up…
Yeah. And despite his eager anticipation, my gut tells me that’s what would’ve happened.
Hopefully, Alizée’s talk with him tomorrow will help. And maybe, now that he has a concrete date, he’ll be able to relax.
I hope.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Mal
Ignition
It’s before dawn when I awaken in our bed and realize I have no memory of getting there.
Plus, I’m still dressed, and Todd’s naked body is wrapped around me like a big, beefy blanket.
Didn’t say that was a bad thing.
Then last night hits me. I must have made a noise, because Todd’s arms tighten around me, capturing me.
“You’re okay, baby,” he mumbles against the nape of my neck. “You’re going to relax and behave and not make me lock a chastity cage on you until your initiation. Right?”
I’m not fully awake so his words take longer than usual to slot themselves properly into my brain. “That’s mean,” I mumble.
He kisses the nape of my neck. “So was some bratty pup who made my mate feel bad last night.”
“Huh?” I roll to face him. “Who are you talking about?”
In this dim light his eyes are the color of black coffee. He nuzzles my nose with his. “Who do you think?”
I wrack my brain. I was disappointed last night, but everyone I met was really nice.
He catches my chin, staring into my eyes. It finally sinks in what he means.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“Don’t apologize to me, baby. I’m not the one you were running through a wringer. Alizée’s coming by for breakfast this morning to explain hormones and shifter biology to you better than I can, because I’m not an omega.”
