Iron: Blue Collar Wolves #1 (Mating Season Collection) by Ronin Winters, Mating Season Collection
Authors: Ronin Winters, Mating Season Collection
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life. The big decisions, they’re on you. But I will say this. You’ve known your true mate since first grade. She’s gorgeous, she’s sexy as hell, for some reason she’s head over heels for your dumb ass, and you don’t even have to worry about breaking to her what we are – she knows.”
The crunch of boots as Steel stepped closer, and his alpha’s hand came down on Iron’s shoulder, fingers digging deep, anger mixing with compassion in that grip, some fucked-up meeting of warning and sympathy. “Your family situation sucked, and I’m sorry. You deserved better. But you using it to justify destroying everything possible and good in your life is fucking stupid, and I’m not going to back you on it, and I’m not going to sympathize with you over it. Some of us would sacrifice our souls to have it as good as you. Damn right, Bella’s too good for you. But she hasn’t figured it out in twenty years, and she’s never going to figure it out, because the one area that woman is dumb in is you . So get on your fucking knees to thank God for what He’s given you, then get your ass to her apartment and go down on your knees again for a different type of thanks. And claim your woman.”
Now the footsteps retreated, the heavy thuds sounded a little fainter with each step, the low swoosh of fabric signaled a jacket being put on. “Do what’s best, or do your fucked-up version of what’s best – I don’t care. But don’t come to me with this shit again, and don’t expect me to ever feel sorry for you after this if you make the unforgivable mistake of letting her go.” And the door slammed shut.
The whiskey bottle was empty. It landed with a heavy thud against the wall, and Iron pressed his head back against the bar.
All these years, worried, wrestling with questions and doubts, trying to do the right thing, and she knew. She’d always known.
Yeah, but she didn’t really know. That was the rub, wasn’t it? She knew about shifting and the pack, which, yeah, was huge, life-changing news sure. But what she didn’t know? The isolation. Living on the fringes. Always protecting yourself and the pack. Always keeping your head down. Never letting the spotlight fall on you.
Bella was made for the spotlight. Nothing shone brighter than she did. She was a force of will contained by sinful curves, and by loving her, mating her, he was going to damn her to the shadows.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He was too tired for this shit. He wanted home. A bed that smelled like Bella, where he could spend at least one last night surrounded by her scent. What he wanted…
Why the fuck did he even bother to want things? It never ended up happening anyway.
Tired and stooped like an old man, he made his way out of the bar, to his car and to home, and if he could sleep for the next seventy-two hours, that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Thought you’d never get back.”
Chapter Eight
‡
B ella was a living wet dream, gorgeous and sleepy-eyed, curled up on his chair like she belonged there, in tight jeans and a shirt that was falling off her shoulder, exposing the line of her throat where his mating bite would go.
He couldn’t deal with this. Not right now, after what happened at the bar. “Why are you here?” he asked as he hung up his coat, keeping his eyes from her.
Bella said nothing. After several moments of quiet, Iron’s resolve wavered, and he glanced back at her.
She was still sitting there, but once she had his attention again she stood and started unbuttoning her blouse.
“What are you doing?”
“What I should have done in high school.” Button by button, her shirt fell open, inch by delicious inch of her tanned skin coming into view bit by bit. “I was waiting for you to get over this stupid, pig-headed nobility thing you got going. I was wrong to wait instead of forcing the issue.”
“Stop that.” They were the last words he ever wanted to utter in this lifetime, but he forced them past his
The crunch of boots as Steel stepped closer, and his alpha’s hand came down on Iron’s shoulder, fingers digging deep, anger mixing with compassion in that grip, some fucked-up meeting of warning and sympathy. “Your family situation sucked, and I’m sorry. You deserved better. But you using it to justify destroying everything possible and good in your life is fucking stupid, and I’m not going to back you on it, and I’m not going to sympathize with you over it. Some of us would sacrifice our souls to have it as good as you. Damn right, Bella’s too good for you. But she hasn’t figured it out in twenty years, and she’s never going to figure it out, because the one area that woman is dumb in is you . So get on your fucking knees to thank God for what He’s given you, then get your ass to her apartment and go down on your knees again for a different type of thanks. And claim your woman.”
Now the footsteps retreated, the heavy thuds sounded a little fainter with each step, the low swoosh of fabric signaled a jacket being put on. “Do what’s best, or do your fucked-up version of what’s best – I don’t care. But don’t come to me with this shit again, and don’t expect me to ever feel sorry for you after this if you make the unforgivable mistake of letting her go.” And the door slammed shut.
The whiskey bottle was empty. It landed with a heavy thud against the wall, and Iron pressed his head back against the bar.
All these years, worried, wrestling with questions and doubts, trying to do the right thing, and she knew. She’d always known.
Yeah, but she didn’t really know. That was the rub, wasn’t it? She knew about shifting and the pack, which, yeah, was huge, life-changing news sure. But what she didn’t know? The isolation. Living on the fringes. Always protecting yourself and the pack. Always keeping your head down. Never letting the spotlight fall on you.
Bella was made for the spotlight. Nothing shone brighter than she did. She was a force of will contained by sinful curves, and by loving her, mating her, he was going to damn her to the shadows.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He was too tired for this shit. He wanted home. A bed that smelled like Bella, where he could spend at least one last night surrounded by her scent. What he wanted…
Why the fuck did he even bother to want things? It never ended up happening anyway.
Tired and stooped like an old man, he made his way out of the bar, to his car and to home, and if he could sleep for the next seventy-two hours, that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Thought you’d never get back.”
Chapter Eight
‡
B ella was a living wet dream, gorgeous and sleepy-eyed, curled up on his chair like she belonged there, in tight jeans and a shirt that was falling off her shoulder, exposing the line of her throat where his mating bite would go.
He couldn’t deal with this. Not right now, after what happened at the bar. “Why are you here?” he asked as he hung up his coat, keeping his eyes from her.
Bella said nothing. After several moments of quiet, Iron’s resolve wavered, and he glanced back at her.
She was still sitting there, but once she had his attention again she stood and started unbuttoning her blouse.
“What are you doing?”
“What I should have done in high school.” Button by button, her shirt fell open, inch by delicious inch of her tanned skin coming into view bit by bit. “I was waiting for you to get over this stupid, pig-headed nobility thing you got going. I was wrong to wait instead of forcing the issue.”
“Stop that.” They were the last words he ever wanted to utter in this lifetime, but he forced them past his
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