14. Fourteen - Rebel

fourteen - rebel

. . .

Lips ghost over my mate mark, calling me from the lazy haze of sleep. I squint as I'm blinded by the damn light, and there's a rock hard something poking me in the back. That's when I notice the arm that's wrapped around my midsection, one hand firmly planted, holding my left tit. My body feels like it's been run over by a truck.

The urge to pee rises up and screams that I'm in desperate need of a bathroom, but I'm currently enjoying the feel of this alpha, the one I most definitely shouldn't want here, wrapped around me. I'm in a cocoon of thickly muscled arms. It's clearly a massive appendage that's trying to stab my kidneys out from behind. Holy shit.

A lump clogs in my throat as I try to swallow. So, last night did actually happen. I thought it had just been another vivid dream. As I try to think back, I realize most of the events are foggy, and I can't seem to figure out why. My mouth has a sour taste as I try to wet it with my tongue, and my gag reflex hits hard.

Wiggling back, I rub my ass on his cock, feeling the prominent piercings that paint the underside of his shaft, and eliciting the deepest, sexiest moan I've ever heard. Now that I remember. Isn't it funny how our minds always remember the dumbest shit? I couldn't tell you, to save my life, what I had for breakfast yesterday, but I know the alpha currently naked in my bed has a Jacob's Ladder.

My brain is running a mile a minute as I try to remember what his name is. It's embarrassing that I'm clearly in an intimate position with this alpha, his scent is familiar, and he's marked me, but I know nothing else about him.

My head pounds the longer I lay here, so I unhappily pry myself out of his arms and stand, mildly wobbly on my feet as I make my way to the bathroom. I stumble a few times, but luckily, the hallway is narrow so I can grab both sides for support. Standing in front of the sink, I look at myself in the mirror. My hair's a mess. My makeup is smeared. The bite mark between my neck and shoulder is still a little pink. I reach up to touch it but think better of the idea halfway there.

What the hell happened last night? Confusion hinders the thoughts trying to break free from their confinement. I remember Nova dragging me to the party, meeting him, the chase… my eyes widen. Shit, that really did happen!

But then… nothing.

Like my memories have turned to ashes, only figments and remnants available.

I can't remember putting myself to bed, and I recognize now that I was more than likely drinking because the only time I feel this hungover the next day is when I get blackout drunk the night before. It's not a new concept to me. I learned to drink my way through life and feelings at a young age.

I once bought a one hundred dollar bottle of champagne just to pour it down the sink simply because I could. We had the money, so what did it matter?

When I move to open the shower door, a wince creases my face. I definitely had copious amounts of sex last night. Alpha/omega sex… not the safe beta sex that doesn't involve knots and stretching my pussy out to max capacity. Not that I'm complaining.

I should be freaking out more, right? Like… shouldn't panic be rising in my chest as I realize that I not only slept with a strange alpha, I let him mark me, too?

The only thing that terrifies me right now is the fact that I've been marked, which means I'm bonded. Did I mark him back? I'd think if it was mutual, I'd feel more of a bond, right? It just doesn't make sense, and my foggy brain can't seem to find its way out of the twists and turns my random thoughts take.

Turning the shower on, I step away from it so it can heat up the room. I do my business and finally pee, my bladder thanking me for finally taking notice. By the time I'm ready for the shower, the steam is rising out of the top of the shower and fogging up the mirror. Just how I like it.

I quickly wash my hair and do a once over with the body puff, trying to get all the creases and crevices. The scent of alpha and cum runs down the drain and is replaced by the sweet scent of apple pie. I've always liked the way I smell.

By the time I'm done with my shower, I've gained enough courage to go talk to the alpha who marked me and then slept naked in my bed all night. I need answers. I'm mated to a stranger.

Turning off the shower, I step out onto the bath rug and wrap a towel around my hair to soak up extra water and under my armpits to cover up my nudity. Not that it matters, since he's clearly seen me naked.

The door to Nova's room opens, and she strides out. She starts to say something, and then realizes I'm standing in front of her.

"What the hell happened last night, Rebel? You wanna tell me why you decided to do some really stupid shit?" She's giving me the mom look, the one that means business. An I'm-in-trouble kind of business.

"I don't know." I frown at her.

"What do you mean you don't know? Is he still here?" She storms back into her room and grabs the taser she keeps hidden in her desk. "I am going to zap that asshole in the fucking balls."

"Nova?"

"He marked you, Rebel. Given the fact that you don't seem to remember tells me that it probably wasn't consensual. And he won't mess with my bestie." She gently shoves me out of the way and goes blazing, taser gun drawn, into my room.

I follow behind her, half-worried she's going to use that thing. She's just crazy enough to consider it, and I'd like to maybe get to know my mate before he loses his giblets.

"Mother fucker. That inconsiderate bastard took off already. Marks you, and then is too cowardly to face you the morning after." My heart sinks as I step into the doorway of my room. It's then I notice the sheets on the floor and the yellow paper sitting in the middle of my desk.

Reaching down, I pick it up and read the note. It's a threat clear as day. "Did Brad do this?"

She shakes her head. "No, it seems like this was the work of someone else. By the way, we're doing a clean sweep of your room today. Lover boy has apparently had cameras up, filming you for god knows how long."

My brows furrow. "Wait, what?"

"Remember the night at the bar where you got drunk and couldn't remember how you got home? I told you some guy had offered to carry you so you wouldn't have to stumble down the street and be vulnerable?"

"Vaguely,"I say slowly.

"Well, he's our mystery alpha. Your new mate is the star goalie for the Hellbenders."

"Wait, the Hell… whaters?"

"Hellbenders. Columbus' NHL league? Ring a bell?"

My head moves from side-to-side. "I don't watch sports. It's not really my thing."

"Had you met him before last night?"

"Not that I remember. Did he…?" Her gaze drops.

I wrap my arms around my middle, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Nova, what are you saying?"

"Did he… I'd never accuse someone of this, let alone an athlete. I've heard the stories of puck bunnies who lie just to get a quick buck once they go pro, but…"

"No, I remember the fantasy game." My cheeks heat, thinking about the fear and exhilaration of knowing the alpha was hunting me, and that once he found me, he'd fuck me. No questions asked. So, technically, I did consent, right? Because I wanted the sex. I wanted the control of saying yes on my terms. That I know for sure. But did I consent to the marking? That part is a little foggy.

Plus, if he'd violated me, I'd know, right? Like, there would be some sort of evidence… bruising, tearing. All those things we typically hear about in those cases.

Granted, I saw a few bruises in the shower, but my pussy feels sore only, there is no pain.

Closing my eyes, I picture how incredibly sexy he looked in the moonlight and how scent drunk I got on him when I caught the first whiff of white chocolate fudge; one of my favorite things in the entire world. Go figure.

Paranoia starts to creep into my mind. Before, I didn't feel panic. I wasn't scared, but the more I think about things, the more I grow concerned. Why can't I remember? And was I really that drunk or did he drug me, too? Now she's got me questioning the alpha. The one I was all too happy to rub my ass up against this morning like a cat in heat.

Fuck, my heat…

It's coming up next month. What happens then? Will my new mate be here for me or will I need to go to the heat club? Worry churns my gut, and I can't let it go. "What happens next?"

I didn't realize that I'd said it out loud.

"I say we go see your mate. It appears that he has some explaining to do. They're probably at practice by now."

"They're?" I question.

"Tate and Gunnar. They both stayed over last night." A small weight lifts off my chest, and I grin at her.

I raise my eyebrow at her. "So, you've been holding out on me, and you've got your own alpha now?"

She rolls her eyes and giddily giggles. "No," she clears her throat, "it's not like that. I'm a beta, why would he want me?"

"Because if he doesn't want you, then he's a blind, damn, moron. Give yourself some grace, Nova. You may be only a beta, in your words, but I see my best friend. A loyal, hilarious, goofy, sometimes overly dramatic…"

"Hey," she says with a playful swat.

"But you're amazing… drama or not, and you deserve to be happy. If he doesn't make you happy, I would be more than amenable to using that little taser on his balls."

She laughs at me, and I can't help but giggle with her. "This is why we're friends. All right, you get dressed, and I'll meet you in the living room. We have a rogue goalie to hunt down and question." Her determination has me laughing again as I dip past her and into my closet.

I go to let my towel drop, but then remember the warning Nova gave me about the cameras. Are they all over the house or just in my room? Not wanting to take any chances, I grab my clothes and head back to the bathroom. Let's see how clever you are now that I know your secret, Tate…