Page 19 of Ronen (Sweet Alps Legacy #1)

Wincing in sympathy, I ordered, “Don’t move, just explain. Make this make sense to me.”

He bit his lower lip and looked like a kid that had gotten caught stealing cookies from the jar. His hair was all disheveled, and the tight navy T-shirt he was wearing was stretched across his wide chest.

And those thighs of his were just on display and my eyes refused to look away from them. My mouth watered at their muscled thickness .

How did the man manage to look adorable and ridiculously sexy all at the same time?

My body responded, slick forming at my backside, and my breathing sped up as unbridled need raced through my body.

What the hell?

Yeah, Mason had always been sexy, but I had never had this visceral of a reaction to him before. Especially when I was mad as hell. Which I was right now. He had been deliberately lying about losing my books. What kind of psycho does that?

Concentrate on the books, Ronen. Ignore all the sexy. You can deal with that later. Much later. Or never.

Never seemed like a good time to deal with all the mouth watering sexy Mason brought to the table .

“I’m waiting!” I snapped, tapping my foot against the scuffed hardwood floor that had seen better days.

“I liked you, okay?” Mason said in a rush, like that explained everything, and I stared at him completely gobsmacked.

“What?” I finally whispered, because nothing he said made any sense, and even after staring at him for a full minute, I still couldn’t make sense of it.

He shrugged, “I liked you. I thought–think–that you’re…beautiful, okay?”

I blinked at him. Blinked some more. Opened my mouth then shut it.

“You think I’m beautiful, so you lied about losing books?”

“When you say it like that it sounds dumb.” His lower lip stuck out a tiny bit, and I did a double take, because surely Mason wasn’t…pouting?

Tilting my head at him, I gave him a look that said that it was exactly how it sounded .

“You wouldn’t talk to me,” he puffed a breath out, while he stared at his ankle in the black boot with the velcro straps.

“I tried to get you to talk to me. I would ask how your day was, even ask about books, just to hear your voice. To start a conversation. And you shut me down every single time. All buttoned up and professional. You used as few words as you could to get me to move along with my day, while looking at me like I was scum beneath your shoe. And then I forgot to return a book, and you said more than two words to me. Granted, you weren’t happy with me, and your eyes were flashing with green fire that you were trying hard not to unleash, and I was just…

” he fumbled for a word to describe what I had made him feel that day.

While all I could do was stare at him, wide-eyed, my chest heaving.

“You were stunning, Ronen, and I wanted to see more of that side of you. Wanted to hear you say more words to me, even if you were chewing me out in the nicest way possible. The way you would roll your eyes, and your chest would puff out, and you would tap your foot, was hot as hell, okay? Just like you’re doing now. ”

I willed my foot to stop tapping. It didn’t listen.

Mason gave me a small smile, “I realized if I lost books, I would get to see that side of you. It would force you to talk to me.”

“You kept telling me you lost books, and paying for them? So, I would talk to you?” I wasn’t touching the rest of it. Not right now. Though a small part deep inside preened at the idea that he found my anger a turn on. “It wasn’t like we had any meaningful conversations, Mason.”

“I didn’t say it made sense,” he sighed, pulling at the hem of his shorts, bringing my eyes right back to the area I did not want to look at .

Fanning a hand in front of my face, I unzipped my jacket with my other hand. “Why is it so hot in here?”

Mason frowned at me. “It’s really not. I tend to run hot, so I keep the thermostat dialed back. Most people find it too cold for their liking. Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright,” I snapped. “I’m burning up because your thermostat is set on the ninth degree of hell, and I found out you were lying and stealing my books! Nothing about that is alright !”

“Technically they aren’t your books, Ronen,” Mason snapped back. “And I paid for all of them, so now they’re mine.”

“Ugh!” I yelled, “You are the most infuriating alpha I have ever met! I came here to see how you were, but I can see you’re fine.”

He waved a hand towards his foot. “It will heal in a few days. So, we’re just not going to talk about what happened? Typical.”

“What does that mean?” I demanded, hands on my hips. “Besides, nothing happened.”

Mason gave a short laugh that said he couldn’t believe the audacity of me. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. When we touched.”

“You were high as a kite from whatever they gave you,” I was going with deny, deny, deny all the way. “You must have hallucinated it.”

“ It being the fact that we are fated mates,” he crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the shirt tight across his pecs. Were those his nipples I could see outlined beneath the material. Goddess, I needed to focus on something that wasn’t Mason. “You’re something, you know that? ”

“It was nothing,” I waved my hand, as if that was going to make it all disappear. “It had to have been something else. How could we not have touched before now and known? You’ve been bothering me at the library for over a year.”

“Because you slide my books over to me, just like you slid my card across your counter the first day. Glaring green icicle daggers at me the entire time, but never touching me. You made a concentrated effort not to touch me.”

I gave a one shouldered shrug, my mind racing, scenes of our previous interactions playing like a movie in my mind. Mason was correct; we had never touched. “Maybe I didn’t want your cooties.”

Another derisive snort from him. “I think you were scared. I think you were scared of your feelings for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not scared of anything,” I declared haughtily, sticking my chest out just a smidge.

My honey badger bristled just beneath my skin, wanting to come out and show exactly what a little, ferocious badass he was.

“Everyone is scared of something.”

“Not me. Nothing. What are you scared of?”

“Spiders,” Mason said, his body giving a little shiver, making a disgusted face.

“Spiders?” I repeated, incredulously. “But they’re so cute.”

“They have sooo many legs. Like who needs that many legs? No one. The laundry used to be in the basement, until a big black, hairy, beady eyed spider came charging out from under the washer one day. Now the basement is his, and I have a brand new washer and dryer in my mud room. It was worth the cost to never have to go down there again. He’s probably moved all his friends in by now. ”

Blinking at him, I firmly stated, “You are ridiculous.”

Silence fell over us again, neither of us making eye contact. Mason stared at his shorts, picking at the slightly frayed leg hem, and I stared at his fingers tugging at the material.

I one hundred percent wasn’t staring at his thighs. Or dripping slick like a faucet with a slow leak. Or feeling like I was on fire.

Matty’s words haunted me from earlier. Mini-heat. You can fight it but it won’t do any good.

Was that what was happening? Was being this close to Mason pushing me into a heat? Or mini-heat? Would we not be able to fight being fated? Should we just give in to whatever we were feeling?

Hesitantly, I finally quietly asked, “Sooo…how do you want to handle this…thing?”

His head shot up, and he glared at me, his amber eyes full of fire.

Was he as affected by me as I was of him?

He had admitted he was attracted to me. Attraction was one thing.

Fated mates something much bigger. “Thing? I don’t think we should call the fact that we are fated a thing .

It’s kinda a big, important thing, don’t you think? ”

Throwing my hands up in annoyance, I sniped, “This is why we’ve never had a conversation. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“See, right there. That is exactly why this will never work between us. We need to take the out clause, walk away, and forget this ever happened. I don’t care what my brother, and all his dumb fucking research, says. He’s wrong, Fate is wrong. All of this is just wrong.”

Mason narrowed his eyes at me. “Is that what you really want? You aren’t even going to give this thing between us a try? ”

“What thing?” I insisted. “There is nothing between us.”

“Liar.” His eyes were gleaming now, nearly feral, with a touch of amusement and something more.

Letting out a little shriek of anger and frustration, I hissed, “I detest every single thing about you. From your stupid red hair-“

“It’s auburn,” he corrected.

“It’s red.”

He smirked at me. Smirked! I did the smirking around here, not him! “And your stupid smile. No one needs to smile that much. It’s off putting.”

“A smile never hurt anyone,” he remarked, his voice sickly sweet. “You should try it, or are you afraid your face will crack?”

Pointing at his legs, I tried to trap down my rage. “Those too tight jeans that you only wear to show off your stupid thick, muscular thighs–”

He pointed to his appendages in question, and mouthed, “These thighs?”

“And your stupid bubble butt, stupid cowboy boots, and stupid cowboy hat,” I finished in a rush of ire, before he could interrupt me one more time.

“You’ve got a lot of anger in you for a tiny omega.”

I glared at him. “I’m not that tiny.”

“You are to me. Like I said, you’re afraid of all the feelings I bring out in you, because Goddess forbid Ronen Sawyer Sinclair should feel anything for anyone that isn’t a fucking book.”

Ohhhh snap, he found out your middle name! my honey badger whispered.

“Who told you?!” I stomped one foot like a three year old throwing a tantrum, but I didn’t even care.

He smirked, “It’s classified.”

“My dad,” I groaned, running a hand over the nape of my neck, which felt blazing hot against the skin of my hand.

Every nerve ending felt charged with electricity, slick had my backside uncomfortably damp, and my hole ached with a need to be filled that I couldn’t allow myself to give in to.

If I gave in, there would be no turning back from this. No way out.

“I’m not afraid of you or any feelings,” I told him with more assurance than I felt.

“Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove a damn thing to you,” I bit out between clenched teeth. “I came to see how you were–”

“You came to make sure I don’t sue your precious library,” Mason determined, and damn him for being right. “Let’s at least be honest about that, since you are hell bent on not being honest about anything else.”

“Oh, you want to talk about honesty, Mr. Book Thief? We’re done here.”

Stomping past him, with the intent on leaving, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. Musk and earth and every dark, forbidden desire I had ever dreamed of rolled into one delicious smelling alpha.

Need overwhelmed me, a want that I had no way to stop. Wasn’t sure I even wanted to.

Mason was breathing hard, and when he turned to stare at me, to watch me walk away, his amber eyes were full of fire, his pupils dilated with lust. My slick gushed at the sight, my own scent filling the space around us.

His nostrils flared, a sound escaping his throat, half moan, half whine, all need. “You smell so good, all the time. Like toasted marshmallows. Sugar and fire, just like you. I can smell you, Ronen. I can smell your slick right now.”

That was it.

That was all it took for every last sensible bone in my body to melt away and disappear, along with my anger and rage. Nothing mattered except my desire for this man. Not lies, or books, or fury, or even the fact that we were fated mates.

I needed to touch him. To feel him. To run my nose along his skin and scent him. I needed to feel his skin against my skin.

Needed his hands touching me, marking me, owning me.

I needed to taste him.

Just one little taste.

That would be enough. Wouldn’t it?

One taste, one touch, and I could get him out from beneath my skin. I could walk away, and we could both go back to living our lives. Separately.

Bending down, I grasped a handful of his soft hair in my hand–why was it so silky soft–and brought my lips to his with a bruising force.

His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I tasted the deliciousness that was Mason.

He grasped me by the back of the neck with the perfect amount of pressure, pulling me closer.

It was awkward, with me leaning half over the back of the couch, and his head twisted in a sideways, backwards angle that couldn’t be comfortable, but none of that deterred us.

And when we broke apart, both of us panting, staring into each other’s wide, lust clouded eyes, I knew one thing for sure.

One kiss wasn’t going to be enough.

Not even close.