Page 27 of Rejected Sold Mate (Crystal Creek Wolves #4)
I hadn’t been in my new pack territory all that long, but I’d walked and run through it enough to know it well.
I’d hunted the hills, rolled through the fallen leaves, and swum in the rivers and lakes.
If someone had asked me a month ago if I was capable of keeping every square inch of my territory safe, I would have said yes without hesitation.
But that was until the rogues. Deep in the most animalistic part of myself, I knew someone had been on my land without me knowing. But there was just no way to prove it.
The damned boundary check came up clear— again. That should have been what I wanted, but in the face of dozens of tripped wires and the rogue's open request hanging over my head like a guillotine, the quiet was almost more dangerous than outright chaos.
I knew how to fight. I didn’t know how to wait around, twiddling my thumbs while an unknown number of rogue wolves plotted against my mate and pack.
The thought of Rhie was a sweet distraction and a perfect reason to put ideas of the rogues aside for the moment.
She didn’t pull away from kisses or caresses anymore, but at the same time, she wasn’t sleeping in my bed, either.
I’d tempted myself by opening the guest room door before I left this morning, watching her chest rise and fall in sleep, and fighting the urge to crawl beneath the sheets and pull her soft body against mine.
I missed her in more ways than one. Hell, I missed her in every possible way. But what could I do about it when our relationship felt like it was at a standstill? Embrace? Fine. Kiss? Okay, as long as too many people weren’t watching. Anything else? No way.
It didn’t make sense. I knew I made her come apart when we fucked, I saw it on her face and the way her body shook under my hands, but still she held back.
There was nothing I could do about it at that moment, but there was something I could do about missing her. My pack work was done, the borders were secure, and I had nothing else on the agenda for the day.
Which meant the rest of my hours were free to track down my mate.
Rhie was usually easy enough to find. She had her spaces that she usually haunted—her loft studio, the loveseat on the patio when the weather was nice enough, the right side of the couch with a sketchbook in her hand when it wasn’t—but I didn’t find her at any of those spots when I looked.
I considered calling her friends, but she’d gathered a rather impressive social circle without even knowing it, the three other pack Lunas and the three she-wolves in my pack.
It would take me all day to check with them, and I didn’t love the idea of how desperate it would make me appear…
even if Rhie made me feel plenty desperate when she wanted to.
It was 12:24 pm, but the oven was cold and there were no dishes in the sink. There was a painting drying on her easel, but her palette and brushes were clean and damp, and most telling of all, her car was gone.
I didn’t want her to feel me tracking her through the bond, but I couldn’t resist dipping into it just a little to get an idea of where she was. The golden cord between us pulled away from the house and right over the edge of my territory, and I grinned.
I knew exactly where I could find her.
***
Rhie was tucked into the same corner booth she’d been in the night of the bonfire, this time with a glass of ice tea and a plate of fried finger foods in front of her instead of a martini.
I didn’t have to wonder why she kept coming back to the Broken Barrel; I understood all too well the desire to be away from the pack, anonymous.
And while I couldn’t be sure, I also liked the idea that she kept returning to savor the memory of our first meeting, when we had been strangers inexplicably drawn to one another.
My blood ran hot thinking about what happened when we left the bar, and it had me stalking towards her table before she could even comprehend that I was there. Rhie jumped when I slid into the booth across from her, dropping the mozzarella stick she’d had halfway to her mouth.
“Was the food I provided for you not good enough?”
Rhie pressed her palm over her chest. “God, don’t scare me like that,” she picked her abandoned snack back up and took a bite, the cheese pulling at least four inches from her face before it snapped, and she sucked it up like spaghetti.
“I can’t help it. Stealth is just part of the Alpha package.” I reached over to take something brown and crispy, maybe a pickle spear, and she watched me with suspicious eyes.
“To answer your question, the food at home is fine. But it isn’t deep-fried.” She tracked the fried pickle from the plate to my mouth. “You seem to enjoy it just as much as I do.”
“I’m just taking advantage of the situation. But it’s sweet that you’re providing for your Alpha, my sweet Omega.”
Rhie finished her cheese stick and wiped her fingers on her napkin. There was red and yellow paint under her nails. “I’m going to ask Kiera to teach me a spell to hex your mouth shut.”
“You’d regret it soon enough,” I leaned in, “I’ve seen how much you appreciate what my mouth can do.”
A heated look swept over her face, but she didn’t back down that easily, “Yeah, everything except talk.” Then, without the previous sharpness, “Why are you here, anyway?”
There was no reason to lie, not when I wanted her praise and attention like a starving man craved nourishment, “I missed you.”
The sarcastic set of her mouth disappeared, and she blinked, “Oh. Well.” Rhie looked away, but if I was reading her right, she was…charmed. “Should we get you a drink and your own plate?”
“Hm. Yes. I think I'll stay a while.”
We ate and talked, mostly about her magic and how she’d been practicing with the other girls. The conversation veered off until we were talking about Nayeli and her upcoming birth, and my undeniably male brain couldn’t help but picture Rhie pregnant with our pup. It made the blood rush in my ears.
God, it was all so familiar. Her and I at the same bar, the tension and anger we’d carried for each other finally gone, Rhie’s laughter floating easily in the air around us. I wanted to go back to that first night, but at the same time, I wouldn’t change the progress that we’d made for anything.
I could still pretend, though. A man was due his little fantasies every once in a while.
“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” I asked her, voice pitched low, “You, me, this place. The way you’re looking at me.”
Her eyebrows rose, but Rhie quickly schooled her expression. “And how exactly am I looking at you?”
“The same way you did that night. Like you’re…interested.”
Her smile bloomed slowly, seductively, “And so what if I am?”
“Then I have this cabin about twelve miles away—”
“God no. Not the cabin with the itchy blanket.” Rhie was quick to cut me off, and I had the distinct impression that her complaint with the cabin had very little to do with the blankets in reality.
It was more likely that the small place was steeped with the bad memories of how I’d left her after our hookup, and the awful things I said.
She didn’t relive that part of our early relationship, and neither did I. So, I had to change some things up.
I stood, offering her my hand, “Come on.”
“Where?” she asked suspiciously.
“Just trust me.”
I wasn’t sure if she did, but Rhie still slid her fingers into mine and let me pull her to her feet. I dropped some money on the table, figuring we’d either be kicked out or too tired to return if my plan went correctly.
The Broken Barrel had been one of my haunts from the moment I took residence in the Crystal Creek area, and I’d had a few opportunities to explore the lesser-used rooms in the back of the building when I was trying to avoid someone or just have a moment of peace before a bar brawl broke out.
One of those rooms was used to store old extra tables and chairs, and while there wasn’t a lock on the door, I was pretty confident everyone else had forgotten it existed.
It was there I took Rhie, leading her by the hand into the dim storage area and shutting the door behind us. She still hadn’t realized what my intentions were, but she looked baffled until I backed her into one of the tables, cupped her face in my hands, and kissed her soundly.
Rhie squeaked in surprise, but then everything fell into place for her.
Our talk on our first night together, the location, the flirtation, it had all been leading to this.
Her hands were in my hair, working out the tie I’d used to hold it back, while my palms glided down her torso until I could cup both of her round, perfect asscheeks in my hands.
I lifted her onto the table, and the energy between us became frantic. We weren’t mired in the memory of that first night for long, intent on carving something new and hot and frantic out instead.
She was panting into my mouth as my hands wandered, squeezing and massaging, pulling her close and feeling her breasts press against my chest. My cock was hard, and I rocked it against her center, letting her feel how ready I was.
“Here?” she gasped, even as I tugged first my t-shirt and then hers over her head. “Now?”
“I told you,” I murmured, “I missed you.”
“And the only way you could think to fix that was to fuck me on a random table?”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds terrible.”
Rhie huffed, but her hand dropped from my hair to trail down my chest. My skin felt electrified where she touched, and when her fingers dipped below my waistband, I sucked in a sharp breath. She all but purred when her palm swept over my erection, her eyelids lowering.
“It feels like you really did miss me.”
I was already shucking her out of her leggings, and it was impossible not to stare when they came off, and I saw that she wasn't wearing panties. I licked my lips, wanting to fall to my knees and bury my face between her thighs, but that could wait.