There wasn’t much Tim said or did that night that I didn’t giggle to. Doing just that, I had managed to successfully ignore Jonathan a total of seven minutes yes, I was counting.
I had my flirtatious mode on, and I could tell it affected both my date and my mate, in totally different ways. One was probably thanking his lucky stars for my good mood, the other cursing my being his mate.
Even though I was busy with Tim, dazzling him with smiles at times, narrowing my eyes in a purposefully teasing manner at times, there was no denying the fact that I could feel Jonathan’s persistent gaze on me… I could feel it so much, in fact, that I was bothered by it.
Waving my hand lightly in front of my face, fanning it ever so slightly, trying to ease away the heat I felt, I couldn’t help but think any she-wolf would be more than thrilled and probably impossibly happy to be the alpha-ultra’s mate. He could have gotten any female he wanted within any pack, provided she was not mated already, but somehow, I was the one who had gotten the short end of the stick.
Truth be told, I had nothing against him per se but, ever since that incident last summer, I could barely stand interacting with werewolves; let alone envisaging being with one. And then, there was Cole…
I mentally shook my head, all but begging the negative ideas to go away.
“I’m gonna check my makeup,” I pretexted in a sweet voice while plastering a smile on my face.
That had to be the lamest excuse ever. Though, if it were any other bimbo, it might just be the truth… I, on the other hand, had simply found no better thing to say so as to escape for a few minutes. I needed to collect my thoughts desperately.
I ignored the worried look Seth sent me and made a beeline for the ladies’ room, head held high, gaze not meeting Jonathan’s. I realized midway that I had forgotten to bring my purse, making my excuse even less credible.
I guess there’s no helping it! I mentally shrugged as I pictured the wondering look on Tim’s face if he were to notice, deciding against going back despite everything. It might seem weird but there was no way in hell he’d ever suspect the real reason why I had to leave the table.
The restaurant was fancy enough to have a large bathroom with a cushioned fuchsia-colored sofa that was just begging to be sat over. I ignored it, chose the large, beautiful, golden sink instead and hurriedly opened the faucet. As soon as the refreshingly cold hit my face, it felt as if I was being revived; as if I had been in dangerously deep waters, sinking, struggling to hold onto something, anything, and then miraculously emerged to the surface with a gasp.
I rarely allowed myself to think of that incident with the rogues but whenever I did… let’s just say, there was nothing pleasant about it. I always made sure I distracted myself from the mere memory of it all.
Don’t! Don’t go there! I was inwardly ordering around my own mind. How crazy was that? I sighed in dismay.
“You’re stronger than this,” I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to look like I wanted to. “A witch can never allow her emotions to overrule her rational thinking.” I reminded myself firmly then started taking deep calming breaths, my eyes snapping shut as I did.
Moments later, when I felt more in control of my emotions, my heart no longer aching and much more at ease, I allowed my eyes to slowly flutter open.
As I looked into the mirror, I was startled by the electric blue eyes I found there. The surprised gasp escaped my lips before I could help it.
How dare he scare me like that? How dare he follow me into the bathroom? How could he…
While a part of me got angry at him for being so arrogantly him, I couldn’t help but be a little bit angry at myself as well. How could I not have heard him enter? How could I not have felt his presence? How could I not have felt his breath on the back of my neck?
“What is it?” I hissed through greeted teeth. Now was not the perfect time to taunt me.
“Are you okay?” his worried tone did nothing but anger me more if that was even possible, for he had somehow noticed my discomfort.
“Fine!” My answer was short, tautly spoken, with nothing but a frown to accompany it. Surely, he would understand I was not in the mood to talk to him.
“Have you had enough of your games?” his hand sneaked around my waist, bringing me closer to him as he whispered that question that seemed somehow extremely out of place.
Obviously he didn’t get the hint, I mentally groaned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I responded in that sickly-sweet voice I knew he could only hate. I was trying to get his arm off me but to no avail; he was too strong. If anything, his hold on me tightened. I let out a silent sigh and rolled my eyes at him.
“I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about,” came his husky drawl. He had dropped his head to my height and was, right at the moment, nuzzling my neck in a sensual manner that made me slightly weak to the knees. I would never admit it to him but his deep, bedroom voice made a shiver run down my spine.
“I’ve done nothing wrong,” I countered, pouting then dampening my lips as I noticed his gaze on me though not directly but through the mirror.
“Sure, you haven’t!” his tone was mid-sarcastic mid-bitter, his narrowed eyes the sole evidence of how annoyed he was.
“Let me go,” I commanded offhandedly, finally coming back to my senses. I could NOT allow myself to be seduced by him.
Not now, not ever! My panicking mind screamed at me.
“What if I don’t want to?”
Does he have a death wish or something? I could barely contain my anger.
“Sooner or later, you’ll have to,” I was seething yet, surprisingly enough, my voice came out calm, controlled. “We wouldn’t want them to come looking for us.” I taunted, referring to our dates, then immediately regretted as I noticed the darkening of his eyes.
Wrong move! I inwardly bellowed at myself for my stupidity. I knew he must have been hanging by a thread, yet I just had to make him lose what little self-control he had left.
In a heartbeat, he had me on the all-in-marble counter that separated the two sinks the ladies’ room had to offer.
His hands were firmly and somehow possessively so, I might add holding my bottom, his hips nestling down in the space that my opened legs allowed since he had somehow forced them to wrap around his middle.
“What…” the protest died on my lips since he chose that moment to possess my mouth with his.
His mouth was devouring mine, his tongue furiously battling with mine, commanding submission; a submission I was not willing to show for probably less than ten seconds before I gave in.
He growled deep in his throat in appreciation while pressing himself against me and I suddenly couldn’t help the moan that fell off my lips right into his. He seemed to savor the sound.
Seconds later though it could have been minutes, I couldn’t say for sure he freed me of his devilish mouth. I might have groaned in response but I was actually thankful he did for if it wasn’t for him breaking the kiss, I would have probably died with my lips glued to his, not strong enough to come out for a breath no matter how necessary it was.
The kiss was simply ravaging. There was no denying his techniques.
His lips trailed down my neck, leaving me panting, gasping for breath, a muttering mess. My mind was foggy and seemed completely incapable of any linear thought. Upon finding my sweet spot, to which I had responded with a muffled moan, he started nibbling on it, making me go wilder for him if that was even possible. My hips bucked involuntarily against his, unconsciously seeking more and I had to bite on my lower lip to hold back the moan that threatened to escape upon feeling the evidence of his arousal pressing against me.
“I want to hear you moan for me,” I thought I heard him say right before he sucked on my sweet spot with renewed passion.
I obliged, not because I wanted to please him, but because I simply could no longer hold back my moans.
He straightened up a little bit, just enough to be at eye-level with me, a smug smirk plastered on his face, before leaning in to give me another kiss that was less forceful than the first but just as passionate.
All too soon, he broke away, making me whimper and reach out to him. I framed his face then brought his lips back to mine or at least, that was what I tried to achieve.
“What do you want?” he asked hotly, cockily. His husky, lust-filled voice was such a turn on, I could barely believe it.
I kept looking at his lips, damning him with all my might for not giving me what I desperately and very obviously so wanted. I tried to force his lips back on mine again and was not surprised to find out I had failed again.
“What do you want?” he repeated oh-so-arrogantly, his darkened eyes glinting.
That seemed to set the wheels in motion. My mind cleared and began to function again.
What the hell have I done? I mentally yelled at myself for giving in so easily to the temptation that was Jonathan.
I abruptly dropped my legs from his middle, straightened up ever so slightly, pushed against his chest, managing to put some space between us, and then gave him a look full of loathing a reproaching glare that I wished would make him seriously consider his next words.
“You pulled a fast one on me, alpha!” I spat out, angrier at myself if anything.
He stepped back, allowing me some much needed distance. His proximity was dangerous; I was not immune to him; I knew that already… then how the hell did I end up having a make-out session with him?
In the restaurant ladies’ room of all places, a snarky voice filled my mind, almost making me choke on my own saliva when I was reminded of my date sitting out there, waiting for my return.
“Do remember you enjoyed it,” was the sole answer I was given before he turned on his heels, leaving me to my thoughts, alone with my mind-blocking loss.
I had indeed enjoyed it thoroughly. My skin was still buzzing, my body still humming, singing to him, begging to be possessed. How could I want him so much when there was nothing, I felt but contempt, hatred and admittedly, a little bit of fear every single time I thought about werewolves? It looked like my body and my mind were at cross purposes.
I glanced at my wristwatch and sighed in relief when I realized it had merely been about five minutes since I had left the table.
“Damn, it felt like an eternity,” I muttered to myself as I stood up and faced the mirror, looking furiously at my flushed face. Damn my hormones…
I shall think about all of this later, I decided, plastering a smile on my face; a smile that soon left when I saw the hickey adorning my neck.
I gritted my teeth, a scowl slipping on my face before I quickly freed my hair from the oppressing bun, I had taken so much time to perfectionate. I arranged my silky locks so that it hid the offending love bite I was given by that god-damned alpha-ultra. Then, moving ever so carefully, wishing with every fiber of my being and with every step I took I would keep the evidence of my debauchery out of sights until I was back home, I left the ladies’ room and headed straight to our table, not sparing Jonathan a single glance on my way there.
I might have made a mistake tonight but I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, I thought with determination as I sat across Tim and gave him a sweet smile, letting myself be engrossed in the conversation they were having, ignoring the questioning look Seth had given me.