Page 15 of Bullied Pretend Mate (Silverville Firefighter Wolves #3)

Felix and I dance together near the center of the dance floor, his hands resting lazily at the small of my back, my arms looped around his neck.

“That was great, back there,” I murmur to him. It’s the first time this entire evening we’ve managed to have a talk out of the other guests’ earshot.

He looks handsome in everything, but there’s something about the sight of a man in a suit that makes my mouth go dry.

And there’s something especially pleasing about the sight of Felix in a suit—his lithe body, the tailoring of the vest, the way he casually draped his coat over the back of his chair.

“I’m tired of people treating you like that,” he says, and it sends another shot of warmth through me.

Focus , my inner voice says, berating me for the way I lean into Felix. Remember what he was like in high school, Maeve .

But it’s hard for me to focus on how mean he was when now he’s defending me. Coming to battle for me like nobody has before.

“I mean, I think it was really convincing,” I say.

He puts his hands on my shoulders, pulling me back and looking at me intently, even as we continue to sway in the middle of the dance floor.

“It was convincing because it’s how I really feel.

” When he says it, his voice is deep gravel, rough and smooth at the same time.

Like cookies and cream. “I know all the other stuff”—his gaze lands on the bite on my neck—“is for show. But I care about you, Maeve. I’ve always cared about you, and I’m tired of people treating you like this. ”

This would be the perfect moment to bring up high school.

To mention the fact that Felix, himself, was one of the people making me miserable back then.

But I don’t want to ruin the moment. It’s nice, standing with him like this.

Dancing together slowly, his arms around me.

Now, Felix doesn’t waste a single moment to lay claim to me, and it’s making it harder and harder for me to remember this entire thing is just for show.

“Okay,” I manage, and that’s enough for Felix, who pulls me back into him, continuing our slow dance.

We stay on the dance floor through the rest of the night, moving together, not caring about his parents or other people who might say it’s inappropriate for me to dance like this with him.

“ Felix!”

Our dancing stops as we turn and see the bride coming to us. She’s changed into a less restrictive gown for dancing. She’s radiant, with shining cheeks and bright eyes, and it makes me wonder, for the first time, what it would be like to be a bride myself.

What it would be like for this to be my wedding day.

“Hey, Suzie,” Felix says, letting go of me for the first time in an hour to wrap his arms around this woman.

I realize I don’t even know his relation to her, or why we’re at this wedding in the first place.

“Maeve, this is Suzie, my cousin,” he says as though he can read my mind. “And Suzie, this is my mate, Maeve.”

Suzie’s eyes widen, and she looks between me and Felix with an expression bordering on euphoria. “ Felix , is this the same Maeve from when we were kids?”

His blush rises to just under his eyes. “Yes, Suz.”

“Oh my gods,” Suzie says, turning to me, and I realize she’s definitely a little drunk when she throws her arms around me and pulls me in tight.

She smells like rich perfume and champagne.

“I am so happy for you two! You probably don’t remember me—I was only around a couple of times.

But I remember how much of a crush Felix had on you back then. ”

Even though I’m an adult now, and even though it’s beyond silly, the knowledge that Felix had a crush on me back then makes my stomach swoop down low, like it might have when I was a kid.

“Gods, Suz,” Felix says, his face even redder now. “We can keep some things sacred.”

“Oh, whatever, I’m sure she knows,” Suzie says, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms around the two of us, walking us jerkily toward the center of the dance floor. “Come on, I want the two of you to hang out with us.”

In Los Angeles, there are some spaces I feel comfortable in. Plus-size influencer groups. A gym I joined that’s specifically for larger bodies. Places where my body is the norm, rather than the exception.

Right now is—I think—the first time in my life I’ve been pulled right into the center of the party. Suzie laughs and throws her head back, dancing with abandon, her arms around her groom, and it’s hard for me to take my eyes off them.

What would it be like to dance with Felix like that?

We get pulled into the fray, our arms and hands all over one another, lost in the fun of being young and alive with the others in the room.

At some point, I end up dancing with Suzie, the two of us holding hands and laughing to a pop song from when we were kids. She leans in, her lips practically on my ear when she whispers, “Don’t be scared of the mating marks. Dillon and I had to do it like a hundred times before it finally stuck.”

When she pulls back, she’s laughing and lighthearted, but my hand rises to my neck to where Felix’s mark is. I glance to the side when I realize he’s stopped dancing, and he’s staring at me.

Without speaking, we both know the truth.

We have to do another bite if we want to keep this convincing.

***

The air is tense with expectation when Felix and I get back to the hotel room. It’s so quiet, compared to the music in the ballroom, and we move quietly, as though we’re both putting it off as long as we can.

I take a shower, then brush my teeth, push my wet hair over my shoulder, and wring it out with a towel. When I come out of the bathroom, Felix is sitting on the end of the bed in a pair of sweatpants, his chest bare.

My mouth goes dry, and I try to look anywhere but directly at him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at me, and I realize his pupils are practically swallowing his irises as he tracks my movement into the room. “Your soap smells good.”

“Thanks,” I laugh, rubbing my hand over my arm. In any other instance, I might tell him about the soap, the special apothecary, but right now my heart is beating loud enough that I can’t be my normal, influencing self.

“Are you okay?”

“What—yeah.” I clear my throat and shuffle closer to him. “I guess we should—”

“It’s probably time for us to—” he begins at the same time.

I’m silent for a moment. “Yeah.”

Last time, in order to easily reach his neck, I had to stand between his legs while he sat on the bed. Either he remembers that, or his positioning now is a coincidence.

I swallow, taking a step closer to him.

This isn’t a big deal , I remind myself. This is only to get the inheritance money.

“Is this okay?” I whisper, my voice so quiet, I can barely hear it. Felix must, though, because he nods, and his hair brushes against my shirt when he does.

Body buzzing, I reach out and take his jaw in my hands—warm, heavy, slightly fuzzy with stubble—and tilt it, exposing the side of his neck I want most.

The imprint of my teeth is fading already, the marks only slightly darker than his tanned skin. My mouth waters, and a rush of possessiveness rolls through me, spreading out to my fingertips.

This man belongs to me .

It’s an emotional voice. A biologically programmed voice. Something deep inside me is pushing me to think these things.

I don’t have to give any weight to that voice.

When my teeth sink into his skin, Felix sucks in a sharp breath, his hands going to my hips and gripping tight enough that stars implode in my vision. Or maybe the stars are from the feeling of my teeth on his skin.

Either way, my body starts to feel light, buzzing, like a sugar rush, but I know it’s coming from my contact with him.

He holds me to him, tugging me closer and closer, until I’m firmly between his legs and feel his length pressing into my stomach.

I should step back , my logical voice tells me. Get some space .

But I don’t. Instead, breathing in his scent like it’s laughing gas from an oxygen mask, I lean into him, my core starting to throb at the thought of what he might feel like inside me.

An alpha, knotting in me. The kind of touch I could never experience with the betas I hooked up with in Los Angeles.

I gasp at the thought of that, and his hands skim up my sides, grazing the sides of my breasts, held loosely by a bra I only ever wear to bed. I gasp again, and Felix growls, the sound low and primal, his hips rolling up against me.

“Maeve,” he rasps when I pull my mouth away from his neck, realizing I’ve been biting him for far too long. I try to blink through the feelings rushing through me, but this must be what heroin addicts feel like when they shoot up.

Felix is in my veins. And yet, I want more of him.

When I lean into him again, we’re moving, and my back presses against the mattress, Felix bracketing himself over me.

“Tell me you want this,” he says roughly against my skin as he trails kisses down one arm, then the other.

“I want this,” I say, without question, my body already writhing under his touch, pressing up into him.

I gasp when he starts to loosen the buttons along the front of my shirt, baring my chest.

“Oh , fuck ,” he hisses, his breath coming hard and fast. He raises a hand to my chest, dragging a calloused finger along the sensitive skin there. When he meets my eyes, I hold his gaze.

This is the hallway again, but better. More. I feel like a bottomless well, and I need him to fill me up.

Maybe what I’m doing back here in Silverville is more about stockpiling up as much Felix as I can get. Logically, I know this is only going to complicate things, but I’ve yearned for him for so long that this feels like finally relaxing after years of tension.

Could there be something to that? Having as much of Felix as I can now, so when I go back to Los Angeles, it won’t be quite so bad without him.

“I want to fuck you,” he says, the sentence so brusque, so straightforward, that it makes my core clench almost painfully. When he raises his gaze to mine again, his face is wretched, desperate. “Can I do that, Maeve?”

I’m nodding before he even finishes the sentence, and he brings his mouth crashing down into mine.