She didn't speak.
"You accepted him, didn't you?"
"You're marked. You had to accept him," said one of the others.
“Excuse me.” She stomped around the counter. “Bridgette, you're in charge,” she shouted to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” asked one of the shifters.
“To deal with my damn mate. He’s at the firehouse, right?” She didn’t even know why she knew that some kind of shitty otherworldly GPS or something most likely, because she didn’t bother waiting for an answer as she stormed out.
The large garage doors of the station were open, and she took the liberty of marching in past several curious eyes. She could feel him, and knew exactly where he was. Hurricane Olivia was heading straight for the target.
Her footsteps echoed off the walls of the hallways.
That son of a bitch.
She turned at the top of the landing and found herself sniffing the air. Yeah, it was odd, but at this point, she didn’t care. She could smell him. The scent of soap mixing with his musk.
Following her instinct, she slammed her palm against the door separating her from him and flung it open.
“Ethan, what did you do?” she growled.
His familiar head peaked around the shower curtain.
“Hi Olivia,” he said, his voice an octave higher than she remembered.
“Don’t you hi me. You're a jackass. Who the hell marries someone they just met?” She stepped in as a stall door opened to her right.
Her eyes didn’t leave the shower.
“I’ll just leave you two,” said the voice.
Her peripheral vision caught movement and ignored it.
“I can explain. Let me get out of the shower.”
She crossed her arms and stood her ground. His head disappeared behind the curtain just to reappear.
“So, you plan to stay there then?” Ethan asked.
A wild heat crawled along her body. “I’m pretty sure that I’m prepared to see little Ethan in all his glory. Just get your ass out here and explain this.”
She yanked aside her collar, baring the mark again.
“Yeah. Okay.” He poked his head back in, and the water turned off.
His arm darted out, and he grabbed the towel on a hook next to the shower stall.
Pulling aside the curtain she noticed a scowl. Apparently, he didn’t like being called out.
“I don’t see why you’re the one that looks all dejected. I’m the one who’s married and can’t get a damn divorce.”
He ran a hand through his wet hair.
The muscles of his arm flexed at the motion and her eyes couldn’t turn away from his bare chest.
The muscles between her legs contracted. Her body tingled as she took him in, the proximity to Ethan making breathing hard. She gasped.
“I can explain,” he said.
The words reached her ears, but her body was on autopilot. Fisting her hands into her apron, her brain wrestled with the ache to run her tongue along the ridges of his peeks, around his nipples, tracing the lines of his abs to his navel.
Oh hell. She was not ready to see Ethan in all his glory.
“Look Olivia. I’m sorry.” The edge of his deep voice traveling straight down a nerve to her core.
Oh, God.
“I lost control. Well, the wolf took control. We’re the alpha, and we need our beta. I’ve screwed things up so bad lately; he doesn’t trust me. And-”
She cut off his rambling with a kiss. He tasted so good. This was the flavor she’d tried to recreate in the kitchen. The deep taste of male.
At first, his mouth didn’t move.
Huh. She’d never been the one to cause surprise or confusion. No. She wasn’t this woman one bit, and she loved it.
His hand snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. She obliged and pressed her hips hard into the towel. A smile spread across her lips as something not so little greeted her beneath.
Their tongues wound together in a dance that she wanted more of.
He pulled away slightly. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me?”
She pushed away, sense returning.
“Oh my God. I’m pissed you marked me or made me your mate or whatever. What the hell is wrong with men? Don’t you try and seduce me again.”
Humor sparkled in his eyes, and she had to snatch the anger back before it tried to fly away into the wind.
He stepped forward slowly, the towel around his waist dangling precariously by a tucked corner around his hips.
Please fall. No, wait. She mentally slapped herself.
Another step closer.
“First. I didn’t make you anything. You are my mate. You are the only one for me ever. You are her, regardless of whether you embrace it or not. I simply jumped the gun and marked you so no one would ever take you away from me.”
She countered each step he made and stepped back into the tile.
“Olivia. Like it or not our souls are bound. There will never be anyone else for me ever.”
Well shit. If that wasn’t the worst, and best line she’d ever heard. How could she stay mad at that?
Chapter 8
Ethan rubbed a free hand over his neck.
“I screwed up. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
No, he hadn’t ever felt anything like that ever. He couldn’t get his hands on her fast enough. From the second his lips touched hers there was no going back.
Maybe it was her body calling to him or her scent. It was a damn drug screwing with his own instinct. Even now the air around her a rich field of desire. Mad or not, she wanted him.
“You screwed up? That’s your answer?”
Pink tinged her face, running a flush down her chest. Regardless of her exterior, the sound of her rapid heartbeat tipped him off that she wasn’t okay, and this was his fault. But damn, he’d do it again and again. Maybe without the biting part right away.
“You took away my choice. You took away my chance to learn to love you if in fact, I am your mate. What does that really even mean? I’m human, a magical one, but human none the less. How
