Page 45 of Choosing the Rejected Mate

Chapter Six

The Problem With Waiting

Daniel

I have never hated my own restraint more than I do tonight.

Which is impressive, considering restraint has been ruining my life since the moment I walked into Sweetique Bakery and found Holly Black covered in flour, glaring at me like a tiny, furious goddess of carbohydrates.

Now she’s naked in the grass beside me, warm from our run, smelling like moonlight, sugar, wolf, and need.And I’m trying to be noble.

Nobility is bullshit.My wolf agrees.

He paces beneath my skin, restless and irritated, occasionally throwing mental furniture around because I stopped when Holly got scared.Not because he disagrees with stopping.My wolf wants her safe.Wants her whole.Wants her choosing us with every breath.

He also wants to lick every inch of her and bite anyone who has ever made her flinch.We are all managing complex feelings tonight.

Holly’s head rests against my chest, her hair spread over my skin, her fingers tracing lazy nonsense patterns over my ribs.Every touch is light.Almost absent.Like she does not realize she’s carving herself into me one small stroke at a time.

I stare up at the moon and pray for strength.The moon does not answer.Probably because it’s too busy laughing.

“For the record,” Holly murmurs, “I’m still emotionally processing the sneeze.”

I close my eyes.“It was pollen.”

“It was precious.”

“It was not precious.”

“You made a tiny sound.”

“I’m a wolf.A big, ferocious beast.”

“You’re a very large wolf who sneezed like a kitten.”

I lift my head and glare down at her.“You’re incredibly rude for a woman using me as a mattress.”

She smiles against my chest, and my heart does something disgusting.

I’m not built for this.For softness.For lying under the moon with a woman who can make me want to laugh and groan in the same breath.Want has always been simple before.Physical.Brief.Easy to walk away from.

Holly is none of those things.

She’s complicated in the way a locked door is complicated when you know there’s something precious on the other side.She’s sharp edges and warm hands.Fear and courage.Sarcasm and sugar.A survivor who insists she’s fine while carrying a wound deep enough to bleed through every joke.

And for some reason I still don’t understand, she’s here with me.Not claimed.Not bound.Just here.Choosing to stay.

That should be enough.And it is.But it also isn’t.

My body is hard enough to ache, and there’s no hiding it with her half-draped over me.Holly is pretending not to notice, which is sweet, generous, and absolutely a lie.

Her fingers pause near my hip, and my breath catches.She notices that too.

Her head lifts.Her brown eyes find mine in the moonlight, darker now, softer.The laughter fades, leaving something heavier behind.

“Holly,” I warn.

“I know.”