Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
He waited for us. A little. He’s never been inside another female. Well, another female’s pussy. That shouldn’t matter. I’m not more or less valuable since I’ve experimented. And if he thought I was, I’d drop him like a hot potato. That’s bullshit.
But even that doesn’t make sense. I can’t drop him like a hot potato. He’s not mine to drop.
But he’s not any other female’s, either.
There’s a tingling in the bond. He reaches over and takes my braid, fisting it tightly but careful not to tug my scalp.
“I didn’t ruin it, Una, did I? Did I break it before it started?” His voice roughens like tumbled rocks. It washes over me. “It was never what I wanted. It was never like this. Now.”
My dumb heart melts into a gooey mess at the same time another part of me gets hot. Ragingly pissed. I jerk my braid out of his grasp, I don’t even care that it stings.
His sexual history is not the thing that ruined this. And it’s such a Quarry Pack male thing to think. Must be my dick.
He hurt me. He rejected me in front of everyone. He let everyone laugh at me when I was naked and bleeding. He didn’t have my back when I needed someone more than I ever have in my adult life. And he thinks that him getting his knob slobbered on could hurt worse than that?
And the horrible, embarrassing, lowering fact is that I do hurt, and I hate it, and it makes me want to barf. I wish I could blame it on my wolf, but she’s conked out and nowhere near this conversation.
And also, holy crap, Killian Kelly just admitted to me that he’s a virgin.
Killian reaches out and grabs my braid again. Then he waits in silence. I guess I’m supposed to say something.
I don’t know what to say; I’m so freaking hot. This quilt has too much stuffing. I kick my feet free. Then I wriggle higher-Killian has to adjust quickly to not pull my hair-and I try to adjust my clothes again, get comfortable, but I can’t find the right position.
I need to say something. Killian is tensing, and I’m not such a jerk that I won’t acknowledge he just opened up to me big time. It’s surreal. It’s the middle of the night, I’m alone with the alpha in his bed, and he’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.
He’s not barking orders for once. He’s talking like a normal person. Telling me he’s never gone all the way.
If this were a female confiding in me, I’d respond in kind. Maybe I’d tell him about how-so deep down I’m not sure I’ve ever formed the words in my head before-I thought I didn’t have a mate because Fate didn’t want to curse a pup with a mother too weak to defend it.
How I don’t want us to be ruined, either, even though we are.
How I needed him, and he let me down, so none of this can matter, and I hate that, and I wish I was like other females who can forgive and forget and be happy.
A wave of sadness, almost grief, rolls over me, but immediately, it’s washed away by a wave of heat and the prickling of my skin. My thinking muddles. Narrows.
I don’t have time for regrets. There’s something I have to do.
My wolf is in total agreement. She’s wide awake now and yipping.
I do a crunch and reach beneath me to rearrange the pillows. Everything is in the wrong place.
And my nerves are raw. Jangling. What am I doing laying here? I gotta get started. I’m going to be too late.
Killian sits up. “Una?”
He flicks on the bedside lamp. Three clicks.
The light drives a jolt of pain into my brain. I snap my teeth.
“Okay. No worries.” He dials it down to the dimmest setting.
That’s better. Now I can see to work. A flat sheet covers Killian’s lap, and that’s okay, too, for now. I press my fingers to his bare chest. It’s firm. I squeeze his biceps. They’re hard, too. Good. Very good.
I lick the smooth muscle. He lets out a throaty moan. He tastes perfect. He’ll do.
Now for the nest. I kind of tumble out of bed, trailing sheets, and I glare at it. It’s all wrong. And he’ll need to get up.
“Go stand there.” I snap and point to the corner by the door. He can stand guard. That’s where he belongs for now.
Killian frowns, and he doesn’t go. Goodness gracious. It’s not hard. “Go over there so I can fix the bed.”
“It needs fixing?”
Obviously. I grunt. I don’t have time for this, and frankly, the bed needs more than fixing. I’d burn it and start fresh if I could, but that would take too long.
“Are you okay, shy girl?” he asks cautiously.
I will be once the bed isn’t all jacked up. I grab the fitted sheet and tug it free. Finally, he gets a clue and hops up, stalking over to hover by the hamper. Not where I told him to go. My wolf and I growl under our breath. At least he’s out of the way.
I strip the sheets down to the mattress pad. It smells new. It can stay.
The position of the bed is okay. I push the frame a few feet either way to make sure, but it’s fine. Unless it’d be better a little to the right. No. It’s good. Centered.
Killian inches forward and moves the mattress in the direction I’m pushing. And now it’s too far to the left.
What is he doing? I don’t need help. This is my job. My wolf snaps her teeth at him. He raises his hands and backs away.
“All right. I’ll stay over here.”
He watches intently as I remake the bed, occasionally stroking his hard cock. That’s okay. As long as he stays out from under foot. He’d only mess it up.
I get everything put together, but it’s not right, so I take it apart again. At some point, Killian goes to his closet and comes back with a stack of blankets. Some are good, but some reek, and they have to go. I throw them out into the hallway, but even with the door shut, they bother me, so I take them out back and shove them into a metal trashcan.
Killian tails me, which is fine, because his scent masks the blanket stink. And the trashcan stink. And I don’t like the smells coming from the nearby cabins, either. Too plastic, chemical, processed.
I need nose plugs like swimmers have on TV.
And food.
I’m ravenous.
I head back inside, stopping in the kitchen.
“I’m hungry.”
“Okay.” Killian already has the refrigerator door open. “What do you want?”
“Meat.”
“I don’t have any defrosted.”
Frozen meat? That’s wrong, too. I huff and head back to the bedroom. I’ll finish my nest and then go hunting. There’s just enough time if I hurry. The hour’s growing late. But that doesn’t make sense.
None of this does.
But that doesn’t matter. The nest is the only important thing, and I’m almost done. I pile a down comforter in the middle and cover it with the best smelling sheets and the contents of the hamper. There’s not much. A few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, but it’ll have to do.
I stalk around the bed, examine what I’ve made from all angles.
“I need more.” I catch Killian out of the corner of my eye. He’s leaning against the wall, still watching. He’s wearing drawstring pants now. When did he put them on?
“I need those.” I snap and point.
“My pants?”
I snap again. He needs to listen.
“Una, I’m not sure you know what you’re doing,” he says in a very rational tone which makes me want to rip off his face.
I bare my teeth. Arrogant male. I know what I’m doing.
And it’s so damn hot in here. “Put them on the pile.”
I let my wolf growl at him a few times so he knows we’re serious while I throw open a window. The moon is full and high. I draw the night breeze deep into my lungs. It’s cool and sweet.