Page 31 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

When I hear him slam the bathroom door, I feel a mixture of relief and disappointment. My heart twists in my chest as I try to decide what I really want.

He’s just a guy. Of course he’s going to get turned on by us kissing or me being in front of him in a nightgown. It doesn’t mean he likes me—and I am not going to bed with someone I don’t love!

Even though I talk to myself as sternly as possible, my arousal doesn’t settle. As I get dressed, I can’t stop thinking about his hands on me, palms cupping my breasts while his thumbs stroke my nipples, his soft, slick lips and the rest of him as hard as stone.

Once I’m dressed, I take a few minutes to gather myself before heading down the hallway. I feel like I’ve prepared myself well for the day, but I’m not expecting to see Peter dressed smartly in new clothes.

I’m so shocked, I just stand in the kitchen doorway, staring. When he turns around and gives me a questioning look, I can’t move, let alone speak.

“What is it now?” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’m seriously beginning to wonder if you’re having some kind of nervous breakdown.”

“I’m okay,” I manage to sputter, trying to sound casual. “You just look different in your new clothes.”

“I got them from my brother,” he says. “I thought I should wear something decent if I’m going to town.”

I nod slowly, barely listening. Instead of loose, torn cargos, he’s wearing a neatly fitted pair of black slacks that show off his legs and tight butt. The long-sleeved collared shirt is a shade of dark gray that makes his red hair and green eyes look vibrant in comparison.

“Lucy!” he snaps. “What the fuck?”

“Okay!” I say quickly. “I didn’t expect you to go to any effort, that’s all. It’s really nice of you to take the time to make yourself presentable.”

“Nice of me?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “I’ll have you know, I’m not comfortable in the slightest. I hate clothes like this. I just didn’t want to spend the day listening to your nagging.”

A wave of anger flashes through me, but it only stokes the fire of my lust. “I don’t nag you.”

“Oh, really? You’re on my case all the time. Do you think I’m enjoying myself here? Because I’m not. I’m just trying to keep the situation as stress-free as possible.”

“Stress-free?” I answer, incredulous.

“Look, if you want to make a big deal about the clothes, then I’ll just put my gear back on!” His hands fly up to the collar of the shirt and his fingers slip open the first few buttons, exposing a strip of skin.

Fuck.

My eyes are following his hands, and I’ve forgotten where I am. He pauses, and it forces me to look back up into his eyes. Even though his expression is still hard, there’s a glint in his eye, and the beginning of a grin on his lips.

Wait… is he doing this on purpose?

We stare at each other for a moment, the tension in the room escalating to an unbearable level.

“What you’re wearing is fine,” I finally force the words through my throat. “Let’s just go.”

“As you wish,” he says with an ironic gesture that suggests chivalry.

How the hell am I going to get through the day with him looking like a smoldering sex symbol and standing next to me the whole time?

Chapter 10 - Peter

The drive to the bakery is excruciating. From the moment we get in the car, the silence deepens between us like the gulf of an uncrossable ocean.

I keep my arms folded across my chest as I glare out the window, refusing to look at Lucy. I’ve spent so much of my life doing whatever I want, whenever I want, that being forced into going to work with her feels worse than prison.

I keep my eyes fixed on the nearby mountains, dreaming of the moment I’ll be free and can disappear into them. Even though I’m wishing fervently that it comes soon, it looks like I’ve got a terrible problem standing in my way.

My wolf won’t leave her.

The feeling is horrific—like being ripped in two. There is panic singing under my skin, like billions of electric needles pricking me from the inside out, feeding into my blood and making me desperate to run as far from Lucy as I possibly can.

Meanwhile, my wolf whimpers softly, close to contentment, as my primal soul begs to curl up at her feet with my nose in her lap.

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