Page 38 of Rejected Plus-Size Mate

She doesn’t listen, just shoves open the front door. She’s obviously pissed at me, and I can’t let her go to bed like this.

“Stop, please. We should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk!” she says, turning to me and crossing her arms. “I need to go out for a run. Are you coming or not?”

The memory of our last run streaks through me, a bolt of pleasure mixed with pain. I definitely want to go with her… and I know I really shouldn’t.

But I can’t resist.

“Sure,” I say, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice.

Leslie turns around sharply and goes out the back door, letting it hit the wall as she slams it open. I get out on the steps just in time to see her shed her clothes.

I’m struck for a moment, just watching her stride naked across the grass. Then Leslie pauses and glances over her shoulder. I feel like her eyes cut straight through me, as if she can see how turned on I am.

Why should I even try to hide it? I don’t want her to feel pressured, but I can’t escape the fact she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I tear my clothes off and hurry down the steps. Leslie turns around before I get fully undressed and shifts, running into the forest and making me chase her. Even though I know this is only going to strengthen my primal urges, I welcomethe strength and passion that flood through me as I take on the chase.

Leslie sets a hard pace, weaving and twisting between the trees, keeping me on my toes. I take each stride with renewed vigor, thriving on the challenge. Her sweet scent wafts ahead of me, enticing and irresistible. I don’t know if I want to catch her so I can feast on the source of that lovely aroma or keep chasing her to enjoy this delicious anticipation.

Who am I kidding? I know which one I want.

As I finally get close up to her flank, Leslie slows down and trots into a small clearing ringed by tall trees. She runs along a short way with her nose to the ground, then sits down, throws back her head, and howls.

My own voice joins hers, bursting from my chest, screaming from every inch of my bones. All my emotions—my longing, my love, and my regret—spiral from my soul in an explosion of melancholy sound.

As her howl dies down, Leslie turns and looks at me. Her silver-gray eyes shimmer, and she shifts, standing up slowly in the pale light.

I shift, too, wanting to walk over to her, but not knowing if I can control myself if I do. The anger in our last words to each other keeps ringing in my mind.

How can I reach her? How can I show her how much I care?

Suddenly, I notice the way she’s staring at me. Her eyes are wide and a little glassy. Her tongue has crept up to the corner of her lip.

Wait… is she checking me out?

“Leslie?” I say.

She keeps staring as if she hasn’t heard me. That’s when all the moments from the last week suddenly click together.

She’s just as turned on as I am! That’s why she’s been so distracted!

The realization shocks me. I take a deep breath, filling myself with her rich, intoxicating scent. I’ve been deliberately avoiding immersing myself too much in an attempt to prevent it from torturing me. Now that I’ve got a good dose of it, though, I can practically taste her arousal on my tongue.

My other senses tune into her, picking up the throb of her heartbeat and the swish of her breath. She’s getting excited, painfully so.

“Leslie?” I ask again.

She doesn’t hear me, and I take this as a very good sign.

“Hey, Leslie?”

“Yes! Hey, sorry. I was just thinking.”

I bet you were.

“I need to talk to you.”

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