Fate Picked Me, the Alpha Passed, and I Felt Nothing novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Against the Wall

I shut the shop door behind us, and I shot the bolt.

It was nine o'clock on Thursday night, and the only light was the lamp over the workbench.

Dray stood in the middle of the floor with his hands hanging, looking at me.

All day he had been careful.

He had been careful at the Pine Cup, careful in the truck, careful when I took his hand in front of Joss.

I was tired of careful.

"Take your coat off," I said.

He took it off and dropped it.

"Shirt."

He pulled it over his head.

"You've been holding back since Saturday," I said.

"I haven't."

"You have. Every time you touch me, you ask permission with your hands. I can feel it. You're afraid you'll break me."

His jaw worked. "I'm afraid I'll scare you."

"Dray."

"I'm bigger than you think. When it gets really."

"I'm not a small woman," I said. "And I'm not a fragile one."

I walked up and put both palms on his bare chest and shoved him back.

He took two steps and hit the wall.

It was the plain plank wall of my shop, the one where I hang my saws, and it shook under him.

A handsaw fell off its nail and clattered to the floor.

Neither of us looked at it.

"Stop being careful," I said. "Take me. I want all of it."

"Rue."

"Don't you want to?"

"God, yes."

"Then do it."

Something changed in his face.

I watched it happen.

His pale eyes went hot and wild, and his chest started to heave.

He took hold of my hips, spun me, and pinned me to the planks with his whole body.

I gasped.

The wall was rough against my back, and his hands were hard on my thighs, and he lifted me off the floor.

I wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Like this?" he growled.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"Yes. Like this."

He kissed me.

It was nothing like the careful kisses.

It was open and deep and starving, all teeth and tongue, and he swallowed the noise I made.

He ground against me, and I felt how hard he was through his jeans.

"Take them off," I said against his mouth.

He set me down just long enough to rip my overalls open.

The clips popped, and he yanked them down my legs and threw them across the shop.

I tore at his belt and got his jeans open, and then he had me up again, and my bare back was against the wood.

He didn't ask.

He lined himself up and drove into me in one long hard thrust, and I screamed.

It went through me like lightning.

"Yes," I cried. "God, yes, Dray. Like that."

"You're so tight," he groaned. "You're so fucking."

He didn't finish the sentence.

He pulled out and slammed back in, and the wall shook, and the hanging saws rattled on their nails.

My head hit the planks, and I didn't care.

I held his shoulders and dug my fingers in.

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