Chapter 32

He muted the TV and rubbed his face with his hands. “I give up, Bru. I’m gonna let her go. Maybe she’s safer without me. If Khain never connects her to me, to us, maybe she won’t be in danger. It’ll never work between us, no matter what. She hates me.”

“Nah, wolf, she likes you.”

“What? Are you even here? Did you hear what she said to me? Do you see how she looks at me?”

Bruin leaned back against the couch and gave Mac an appraising look. “I’ve never dated a woman like Rogue.” He shuddered. “But it seems to me, like that would be foreplay for her.”

Mac considered. But no, she was more extreme than any woman he’d ever met.

Bruin went on. “You’ve dated women like her. Do they just fall into bed with you?”

Mac rubbed his hand over his stupid new-beard again. He still hadn’t shaved that thing. “No, they like to fight first, or tease. Some of them make you excited just trying to get you to slam them around a little bit, maybe choke them.”

Bruin’s eyes popped open wide and so did his mouth.

Mac had to chuckle. “You’ve never choked a woman during sex?”

Bruin shook his head. “God, no, do they like that?”

Mac shrugged. “Some do. Some definitely don’t. That’s not something a male should initiate most times, but if she takes your hand and puts it on her neck, go for it. Follow her lead. Just don’t do it for too long.”

The look on Bruin’s face told him the bear would never try it. Or probably never be with a woman who liked it.

Bruin leaned forward. “What if you accidentally kill her? How would she explain that to The Light and the angels?”

“Shit, B, I don’t do it that hard!”

Bruin considered. “Mac, you know I’d help you bury a body, but not your mate’s. So I don’t think you should choke her anymore.”

Mac slapped himself on the forehead, feeling almost normal, wondering for just a split second if the bear was playing up his innocence for Mac’s benefit. Nah. “Look, bear, I haven’t even kissed her. I don’t know if she likes that shit or not, but I can promise you if she does, I’ll never go overboard.”

Bruin rubbed his own beard, mollified somewhat.

Mac looked around, then whispered, “But if she wants her ass spanked, you can bet I’m gonna do that.” And fuck, his damn dick was throbbing again. At least he didn’t feel like throwing himself off the roof anymore.

Bruin rolled his eyes. “Everybody’s got daddy issues. I swear, Mac, why can’t you have sex like normal people?”

Mac snorted. “What, normal people like you? This coming from the Build-A-Bear virgin kit.”

Bruin grinned and tried not to laugh, and Mac felt damned grateful the bear was there with him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this alone. Half of him was screaming that he was wrong for making her be with him if she didn’t want to be, but the other half was screaming just as loud that she was in danger and he could never let her go, would die if something happened to her. And it would all be his fault, wouldn’t it?

Bruin lifted his chin. “Back to Rogue. Hasn’t she given you any sign at all that she likes you? Like something she can’t control. We know she’s got her emotions on lock-down, but can’t you just tell?”

Mac frowned. Ordinarily he would be able to, but all Rogue’s yes signals were immediately covered with five or six or ten no signals. Like, maybe she did want him a little bit, but not enough to give in to him in any way. Like maybe he wasn’t quite her normal type, but she was hard up or something and she could be convinced. He frowned. He didn’t want to convince her. He wanted her naked and writhing and panting underneath him, and fucking begging for it. Like she’d been in Yosemite.

But not just sex. He wanted her to look at him with admiration in her eyes. He wanted to see a smile on her face that didn’t signify his balls were about to be roasted. He wanted sweetness and love. Fuck, he wanted it all, but she wouldn’t even let him in a little bit.

If only her moods matched her scent, he would be golden.

Shit. Her scent. He turned to Bruin. “She… I can kind of tell how she’s feeling by her scent. It changes. When she’s normal, it’s level and tangy, like fresh citrus trees in a field. When she’s pissed, it gets strong and flat and harsh, like straight up orange oil, so concentrated you’re scared to get it on your skin. But there’s something else… sometimes it goes sweet and mild, like candied lemon slices.” His cock swelled in his pants and he frowned at it, then looked around to see if she’d come in the room. She hadn’t.

Bruin bobbed his head. “That’s it. That’s your indicator when she’s hiding something from you. And I bet it’s your key to knowing how she feels about you. You should call one of your friends. Ask them about it.”

“One of my friends? Who? Trevor? Graeme? Fucking Beckett?” He could call Graeme maybe, though. They got along ok. And Crew. He and Crew had never had any major issues.

Bruin gave him a stern look. “Yes. Your friends. Treat them like your friends, like their opinions and experiences matter to you, and you might be surprised at what happens. Everyone needs help sometimes, Mac.”

Mac stood and paced around the living room. “Fuck,” he muttered and pulled out his phone. He dialed Graeme, but got no answer. “Shit.” So he tried Crew. Still nothing. He held the phone down by his side, then jerked it to his face and dialed Trevor. They’d managed to bury their hatchet months ago. No answer. He swore. “Good thing I’m not in trouble here.” He paced a bit more, then pulled up Beckett’s number and hit send.

Beckett’s guarded tone said he knew exactly who was calling, but he didn’t know why. “What.”

A smart ass comment sprang to Mac’s lips but he bit it back. Calling Beckett biscuit-head would not get him any closer to where he wanted to be. “Hey, ah, Beck. How is everyone out there at Camp Fucksalot? Anybody else turn up pregnant yet?” He grimaced at Bruin and held up his hands, knowing he was messing up already.

Bruin flapped his hands in Mac’s direction and nodded. Keep going, you’re doing great.

Mac shook his head and mouthed, I’m sucking ass.

No, no, no, you’re rocking it. Best friend ever, Bruin mouthed, shaking then nodding his head, his most serious look on his face, his eyebrows quirked together.

Mac turned away to keep from laughing. Beckett still hadn’t said anything yet. “Ah, Beck? You there?”

“Do you know what time it is, Mac?”

Mac looked around. No, he absolutely did not. Hadn’t even thought about it and his windows were boarded. “Ah, is it late?”

“Yeah, it’s late. What the hell do you want?”

“Um, well. Can I ask you a question about your m- about Cerise?”

Beckett’s tone turned hard. “What fucking question?”

“What does she smell like?”

Beckett’s growl sliced through the miles between them, so strong, it made their connection go static-y.

Mac yelled to be heard over it. “Jiminy Christmas, cornbr-, I mean, ah, Beckett. I don’t want your female. Look, I know you’ll take a bite out of my ass if I even look at her. I got that! Can you cool it with the warning long enough to help me out. I’ve got a situation here.”

The growl stopped, slowly, but Beckett’s tone left no room for wondering if he was still pissed. “What situation?”

Mac let out a breath. He didn’t want anyone to know any of this. Didn’t want to admit his mate didn’t want him. The guys would never let him hear the end of it. Shit.

But Beckett already knew. His tone softened a little bit. “She still giving you a hard time?”

Mac couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say it. But then he did. “Yeah.”

“That sucks,” Beckett said, and what do you know? His tone was genuine. He wasn’t making fun at all.

“It does suck,” Mac said, feeling the hole in his heart throb. “And, well, Bruin thinks maybe she’s, well, I think that there’s a chance that she’s… Shit. I’m not good at this. But she smells good, you know what I mean? All tangy and sharp and clean and sweet, and I can tell when her moods are changing by her scent but her words, they just don’t match her smell. So- shit. I just need to know if you know what I’m talking about.”

“I do.” Beckett’s tone was thoughtful now. “Cerise has an underlying scent that is different than anything I can pick up from anyone else. Like it’s meant just for me.”

Mac nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. No one’s scent had ever been as strong for him as his mate’s was. Or as perfectly mouthwatering. “So, what does it mean when her scent goes sweet?” He thought he knew. Damn, he hoped he was right. It would change everything.

Beckett laughed and the sound grew tinny, like his phone wasn’t up by his face anymore. Mac could imagine him throwing his head back. A real belly buster. Whatever. He could take it. Beckett put the phone back to his face. “I don’t think you’re in as much trouble with her as you think you are, Mac. If it goes sweet, that means it’s time to get her in the bedroom.”

“Shit. I fucking knew it. Thanks, Beck.”

Hang up. A moment of thought.

And then Mac went to find his female.