Chapter 33

Rogue sat on Mac’s bed, her head in her hands, her mind racing. He hadn’t discovered her real name, but fuck, he would figure it out if he kept trying.

She pressed her hands against her temples, hard. She’d known for days, months maybe, that there was some kind of freak show going on here, even before she saw a man appear from nowhere. Before she’d been framed for murder. Before she’d even met Mac, this time.

Time to stop pretending she didn’t know what was going on. She wasn’t crazy. Werewolves existed, two of them were in the house right now, and one of them thought she was his mate. Good lord, the word made her tighten her fingers in her hair. Mate. It wasn’t a word used about humans a lot, but it still conjured up images she was better off not thinking about. Mate meaning partner. Mate meaning one of a pair, mate meaning to be connected to. And let’s not forget the meaning of the word that was making her heart pound. Mate meaning sex.

Urgggh. Rogue threw herself back on Mac’s king-size bed, sitting alone in the corner, no headboard, just shoved against the wall, the horrible red blanket covering it. She couldn’t do the whole partner, pair, marriage thing, but God knew she could fuck him. Wanted to badly. Wanted him to pull so she could push, wanted to resist so he could insist, wanted that friction that would be so explosive with him they would set the fucking house on fire.

And then all burn to death since the exits were all blocked. Hardy har har.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway and she scrambled to her feet. She looked around, then grabbed the window frame and pulled herself up onto the windowsill. She’d pulled the screen out earlier, bent it, and flung it against the wall, more to piss Mac off than anything, but if he was coming in, she wanted to look like she was actively trying to get away.

She got up there just in time. The door slammed open. She froze, then held onto the wall to turn herself around, mustering up all of her anger and sexual frustration into a cold stare she could level him with.

He looked so good. Fucker was big. Handsome. Just the right bit of attitude in his face. She liked his clean-shaven face, but this scruffy, almost-beard? Made her want to stick her tongue down his throat. And he looked pissed, too, which she liked. She held back a smile.

He strode toward her, then pointed at the floor. “Down, now,” he said, voice hard.

Rogue laughed, then kicked out with her foot, aiming straight for his nose. She hated to mar such a perfect face, but, man, nobody talked to her like that. She pulled the kick just a bit, not wanting to black his eyes, too. Shit, that was a mistake.

Mac caught her foot two inches before it hit his face, twisted his body, and, before she knew it, she was in the air, yanked by her leg into his arms, then slammed unceremoniously on the bed on her belly. He fell on top of her, a hot, heavy weight that scrambled her brains. He pushed her right ear into the mattress, maneuvering her head so he could whisper into her left ear.

“If I didn’t like you, I would have broken your knee. Bring it, as hard as you want. I can take anything you’ve got. Don’t forget what I am.”

Fuck, double entendre much? She didn’t know if he meant cop or werewolf, but her entire body was throbbing with absolute want for him. Which was going to make it that much harder to kick his ass. Damn sexy fucker.

He rolled off her, and, just before he went, she realized an erection the size of a tree trunk was pressed against her ass. Talk about unfair! Her mouth watered and he chuckled behind her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Rogue pushed herself off the bed and whirled to face him. She was pissed now. “I won’t forget what you are, Princess, but don’t forget that you don’t know shit about me,” she said, circling away from the bed. He was too big and strong to fight, and she knew he’d trained to counter any move she could make. So how to fight smarter?

“You get bored butt-fucking your buddy?” she said from a fighting stance, just searching for something, anything that would get a rise out of him. “Did you decide it’s time to make me pay for my room and board with my body? Maybe I’m a little easier to hold down?”

Mac came in slowly, more controlled than she thought he would be. No rage on his face, only a thick determination. He stepped right in the half-circle of her arms and pressed up against her until she had to take a step back. Shit. Her ass was against the wall, and he just kept coming, till every inch of him was against every inch of her, his face bent, his mouth open slightly. She could smell wintergreen on his breath, like maybe he’d brushed his teeth before he came in.

His voice was low, controlled, deadly. A sexy rasp that made her want to say yes to everything. Just hand herself over to him. But she never would. She’d die fighting. She had to force herself to listen to his words, not just watch his lips move, watch that slick tongue work in his mouth. “I’ve never forced a woman, and I never will. Never had sex with a male, but if I were going to, Bruin might be my first choice. He’s a good guy. You could stand to be a little more sensitive, you know, but I won’t hold that against you. My mouth gets away from me sometimes, too.”

Rogue took a deep breath, made her decision, and put her arms around him without a word.

***

Mac smelled her scent flare sweet, then tangy, then sweet, then flat, then sweeter than he’d ever smelled it. He just knew if he got his fingers inside her, she’d be drenched. Fuuuuck, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. Wanted inside that hot, grasping pussy. He would give her anything she wanted, if she would just admit she wanted him, too. Just give him the smallest sign. Just give a little. Sigh, smile, offer up her neck or her lips for a kiss. Anything.

Her arms went around him and he relaxed slightly… until he heard the snick of her blade out of its holster and felt cold steel press against the opening of his ear. He could see the pulse point at her neck, beating fast, belying the deadly control she had over her voice and her muscles. Fuck, she was stubborn. Fuck, he liked it way more than was good for him.

He pressed in closer to her, until his mouth was less than a half inch from hers. “Go ahead, because another hole in my head is the only thing that’s going to convince me that you don’t want me as much as I want you.” The knife pressed in farther, penetrating cartilage, but her scent was so sweet and strong he knew he had her. He moved his mouth just a quarter inch closer to hers, then licked his lips. The underside of his tongue grazed her bottom lip no heavier than a butterfly kiss. “Slice me up, baby. I’ll be a MacKebab for you anytime you need it.” He pressed his erection against her. “And then I’m going to fuck you like you need. Hold you down, like you want. Slam into you again and again and again. Make you come until you think you’re going to die from pleasure. How long’s it been since a male did that for you? I bet I know. Four years, am I right?”

Her eyes were lidded, heavy, and her breath was coming fast. The knife at his ear wavered. He slid his hands onto her waist, then onto her hips, holding her in place like he’d done in the forest. Time to press his advantage. “You remember what it’s like, being with me, don’t you? Hot, right? All slide and glide and pawing at each other. Screaming, panting. You bite. I like to be bitten. Just one sign, Rogue, that’s all you need to give me. Just a nod of your head. Or one kiss on my lips. It can be as rough and fuck-all as you want it. I’m down with all of that. But you have to tell me yes.”

His words hung in the air in the closed-up room. The room he’d never considered as more than a place to sleep, but if she would just give him that yes, the place would forever be sacred to him. The room where he connected with his mate. He would decorate it in gold, or however she wanted. From the other room, what seemed like miles away, he could hear the laugh track of some sitcom play while his dick throbbed so hard in his pants he felt like the head would blow clean off if she ever put her hands on it.

The knife left his ear. Her face didn’t give up anything, her expression didn’t change, but her scent flared one time, like a lightning strike. She was going to say yes. She wanted to. He could tell-

Her knife sliced down the side of his face and neck, cutting a flap of skin open, while she stared coldly into his eyes. A shallow slice, so neat it was almost painless, but a slice, nonetheless. She dropped the knife to the floor, where it clattered harmlessly, his blood probably dripping off it.

He took a step back, separating his body from hers, and began to take off his clothes.

He wasn’t giving up on her.

***

Rogue left her hand in the air, fingers splayed open, staring defiantly at Mac. God, she wanted him, but she didn’t know how to say yes. She couldn’t do it. Not when so much was at stake. She didn’t know exactly what was at stake, but it had to be everything.

He stepped backwards, his face not angry, not upset, not even disappointed in her. For the first time she noticed how blue his eyes were, like the ocean on a sunny day.

He pulled his shirt over his head in one motion and her gaze went to his chest. Greek-god worthy, certainly, but not going to convince her. The spiky tattoos that climbed up his left arm and chest, winding their way up his body? Shit, just don’t look at them. Damn sexy fucker. But she could resist.

She smirked. If that’s what he was reduced to, she’d won, and if she wanted to fuck him later, she still could, because she’d won this battle. If she wanted to. Yeah, right.

But then he kicked off his boots and undid his pants and pushed them down. Nothing sexy about it. A very utilitarian act. Practical. He wasn’t taking his clothes off to show her his body. Fear built in her midsection. Blood dripped down his neck onto his chest, and guilt hit her, too, along with the fear.

His erection sprang free as he dropped his underwear, stepping out of everything, kicking the clothes behind him. He took his cock in his hand and moved it out of the way so he could bend down without it poking him in the belly, the movement, again, completely utilitarian, but Rogue couldn’t tear her eyes away. God, if only he would stroke it. She would pay money to watch that.

But it wasn’t to be. He let go of it, then dropped to all fours, hiding all of his body but his back from her. She opened her mouth to say something smart, but his body was already rippling, his back so rigid that she could see the outline of every muscle.

Then he… changed. His back slimmed and elongated and his hips and arms slanted in a different direction, as white fur erupted from his back, covering his skin and hair completely. Rogue gasped for breath and tried to back up, only succeeding in pushing her ass against the wall, her feet sliding against the carpet.

A huge white wolf stood where Mac had been. It raised its head and made eye contact with her, yellow eyes burning. She could see Mac in its face, its attitude, its expression, even in the fiery black sword on its shoulder.

Scrambling sounded in the hall. Bruin. “Hey, Mac, why are you shifted? Is everything ok in there?”

The wolf flicked its eyes to the door and gave one deep baying bark, kind of.

“Blast, I hope that’s a yes,” Bruin muttered and Rogue heard his feet move away from the door.

The wolf dropped its head, and the process happened again, but in reverse. The fur sucked into the body until only flawless skin was left, his head rounded, his paws becoming arms and legs again. He stood, still naked, and stared at her and, holy fuck, the slice she’d made down his face and neck was gone. She swallowed hard, but realized she actually wasn’t surprised at all.

Mac spoke. “That wasn’t a yes, pumpkin, but I won’t hold it against you. I did ask for it.”

He shifted his weight and took just one step forward. “Let’s try this again. We can do this all night. I fucking love this. But I need to know that you love it, too. So if you won’t give me a yes, how about a no? All you have to do is say, no. One time. Say that word. I know your mouth works. Say no, and I walk away. I’ll never try to kiss you again. Never try to fuck you again. Never try to make you mine again. I’ll talk to my chief about letting you go about your way, see if it’s possible. It will kill me dead, make me a walking shell of a man, a ghost here on Earth, but I’m not going to force myself on you, ever. Say the word, Rogue, and I’m gone. I’ll leave tonight. Bruin can watch over you until I get to talk to my chief.”

Rogue licked her lips. She didn’t want to say it. She had to say it. She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t not say it. Fuck, why did he have to do this to her? But shit, here was her one chance.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it. Closed it. Don’t say it. You can do it. Tell him yes, instead. You don’t always have to be strong.

Opened it. “No.” Her heart screamed in her chest and her body tried to rebel, tried to spill her to the floor. She kept herself upright by sheer force of will.

Utter defeat entered his eyes but he kept his face strong. He nodded his head to her once. “Be well,” he whispered, then bent and gathered his clothes.

He no longer had an erection.