CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"You want to tell me why you disappear into town for hours and come back smelling like you've been rubbing up against Fisher from the grocery store?" Dayne asks me, his voice placid.
I've woken to find we're in our bed, lying side by side, and he's covered us up to our waists.
With that one question, Dayne rips away all my warmth, contentment, and my after-sex glow.
Of course, that's what this was all about.
Dayne scented Fisher and his wolf pushed him to stake his claim on me, which explains his shoving me in the shower, clothes and all.
My hands search for the sheet and I draw it up to cover my nakedness, feeling exposed.
But Dayne doesn't let the sheets get to breast level before he's tugging it right back down. And although he's not looking at my bare breasts, my cheeks redden at the thought of him doing it.
It's easier, much easier, to fix my gaze on his ear so I don't have to meet his eyes.
"Talis. What were you doing in town?"
"I went to get the groceries and Fisher and his dad helped me," I say, trying to keep my voice as expressionless as his.
"His dad?"
Yes. I wasn't fucking Fisher in the back of his dad's shop, I want to snap. But of course, I keep my mouth shut since I don't have a death wish.
"Mart," I say, still with my gaze on his ear.
Is this some kind of test then? And what would he have done if I hadn't been able to tell him Mart's name?
"And then?"
"Since it was early, Mart offered to go to the diner to get the pastries so I could stay in the car." I shift my gaze to his face, but only for a second. "He said he's done the same for you and Luka before."
Dayne nods once, and I go back to staring at his ear.
"Continue."
I just manage to stop myself from grinding my teeth at the command in his voice, and at the way he's speaking down to me. "I helped Fisher load up the truck and we talked a little bit."
"Alone?"
"Yes," I say very clearly, "since I just told you Mart went to the diner to get the pastries."
Silence.
"You do know who I am, Talis, don't you?"
As if I could ever fucking forget.
"Yes, Alpha."
"You know my name."
"Yes, Dayne," I force the words out through gritted teeth.
"Continue."
I'm starting to really fucking hate that word with a passion. "Mart came back-"
"So, you and Fisher talked," Dayne interrupts. "Let's go back to that."
"He was telling me about wanting to be a forest ranger, that's all."
"I imagine he made you laugh," Dayne says, completely without expression.
Something about his voice makes me turn to meet his gaze.
It's such a strange thing for him to say, I blink at him in confusion. Why would he care about whether someone made me laugh?
If it were anyone else, anyone other than Dayne Blackshaw, I'd assume he was being jealous, but I know it can't be that. I doubt Dayne has a jealous bone in his body.
"He's funny. It's not my fault," I say quickly, before he can accuse me of flirting or whatever he thinks I was doing in town.
He blinks at me, and this time it's him who looks away briefly.
"Continue."
And there he goes again, barking at me like I'm a child.
"Mart came back with breakfast for all of us. He asked me if I wanted to stay."
"And why would you-"
I glare at him, even though my eyes burn with the threat of tears. "Because no one ever included me in anything before. So, I stayed. And I'm not sorry."
He doesn't react to my strange outburst, just nods as if what I've said hasn't surprised him. "And the reason you smell like Fisher?"
"He helped me in the truck."
"He likes you."
And he thinks this why, exactly?
I don't know what the fuck he expects me to do with a statement like that.
So what, if Fisher likes me? It doesn't even matter if I like him back. Dayne is my mate and you don't break a mate bond like the one we have.
Not ever.
I jerk my gaze from his ear and back to his face. "And that's the reason for you pushing me in the shower and ruining Savannah's clothes? Because a guy helped me into the truck while his dad watched?"
A crease forms on his forehead as he looks confused for the first time. "What does Savannah have to do with this?"
I stab my chin at the chest of drawers. "Her clothes. Since I'm sure that top was supposed to be dry clean only, I'll let you be the one to tell her what happened to it."
Dayne's face goes so utterly still that if I thought he was expressionless before, it's nothing compared to how he looks at me now.
"The clothes in the drawers and the closet," he says, his voice a low rumble. "You thought they belonged to Savannah?"
"Why wouldn't I? Why else would they smell of her?"
I snatch at the sheet again and attempt to yank it back up to cover myself, but without taking his eyes from my face, he grabs my hand and stops me.
"She picked them out," he says leaning toward me, "for you."
I stop trying to pry the covers from his tight grip as I struggle to understand what he's telling me. "I don't understand."
Speaking so slowly there's no way I can miss a single word, he stuns me into silence. "I gave her the pack credit card and asked her to pick out clothes you might want to wear. The clothes do not belong to her. They belong to you."
Oh. Oh!
My eyes widen in slow realization.
Dayne gazes back at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to fall over myself thanking him.
"Can I get up, please?" I ask because right now I need to not be anywhere near Dayne.
Preferably somewhere far away from him while I work through how I feel about the fact that for days now-days-I've been thinking I'm wearing my mate's ex-girlfriend's, or whatever she is to him, clothes.
He could've told me in the car the reason he didn't stop at Walmart was because he'd already bought me clothes. But he didn't. He said nothing. He just left me to wallow in miserable ignorance for hours and hours.
And when I think about how long it took me to work up the courage to even mention his stopping at Walmart in the first place…
I start to get up, because if I don't I'm going to commit violence.
"No."
Dayne's refusal makes me pause.
"I need to use the bathroom," I lie.
"No," he hauls me toward him and shifts to lay on top of me, "you don't."
When I feel his hardness against my inner thigh, I see where this is going. "Dayne, I don't-"
"You little liar," he interrupts, grabbing my right leg and hooking it around his waist, "all I can smell is your arousal."
His erection probes at my sex, and sucking in a sharp breath, I go still beneath him.
"But if I'm mistaken, I could-" He eases back, and without conscious thought, I'm grabbing at his hips to stop him from moving.
Lips twitching, he raises an eyebrow. "You were saying?"
I can't fucking stand him right now.
He knows what he's doing to me, knows I want him, and my own treacherous body knows it too.
Closing my eyes, I force a heavy breath out of my mouth as I try to ignore the tip of his erection pressed against me. Obviously, I fail miserably.
"Okay, fine. I want to fuck."
At his sudden stillness, I open my eyes and find him staring down at me with a neutral expression, and I get the impression a mask just went up.
I don't know him well, okay scratch that, I don't know him at all, but I get the sense I've just pissed him off and he's doing everything he can to hide it from me.
It's a strange feeling since it's the first time, the very first time I'm getting any kind of reading from Dayne at all.
But he says nothing, and so neither do I, even though I'm desperate to know what he's thinking.
Slowly, deliberately, he presses his hips against mine, and my body opens up around him, inviting him back in again.
Try as I might, I can't stop my low moan when he's seated snugly inside me again. It feels too good for me to pretend otherwise, and Dayne's deep groan tells me it's as good for him as it is for me.
Without taking his eyes from mine, his hands come up to cradle the sides of my face, and then he starts to move.
He stares deep into my eyes as he fucks me with intense focus, hitting just the right part of me with each firm swivel of his hips. Soon my eyes are slamming shut and my body is rippling around his as I moan out my pleasure.
My release triggers his, but he doesn't slip out of me and walk away as I was expecting. He settles his weight on me, and I think nothing of wrapping my arms and legs around his sweat-dampened body, holding him close.
I drift off to the feel of him softening inside me, and his breath tickling the side of my neck.
He's heavy, but I don't even think about telling him to move. Not when he feels so perfect pressed against me.