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.