Bee Among the Clover (99 page)

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Authors: Fae Sutherland,Marguerite Labbe

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Gay, #General

BOOK: Bee Among the Clover
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R
OMAN awoke in the early morning to the sounds of someone movawoke in the early morning to the sounds of someone moving
about the room, keeping quiet. It was barely audible over Wulfgar’s snores in his ear, but he was a light sleeper. Aron was getting dressed with angry, jerky movements. Roman felt bad for the humiliation he knew Aron must
be experiencing. Wulfgar was very good at making points. At the same
time, Roman was angry for being made a pawn in the power struggle between them. It was easier to think of that than the upheaval Aron had
put him through last night.
He watched as Aron slipped out the door without looking back.
Roman understood the need for escape, even if it was just for a few hours, so he remained silent. Aron would have the sense to come back before Wulfgar was forced to search for him. His mind returned to the previous
night, the way Aron had cast the leash from him, how he had called him “darkling,” an ache starting in his chest. It had been almost impossible to
keep his emotions separate from the pleasure.
Aron set off a maelstrom in Roman, and he had yet to learn how to
control those emotions. They were raw and on the surface, and it seemed
every new situation only scraped at them, like an open wound that would not be left alone to close. He didn’t want to like Aron, and yet he knew
that if it weren’t for how Aron threatened his entire existence, he
would
like him. He could admit, now that he was alone, that he did. And he wanted Aron. As much as Roman hated it, he could not control that either. For the briefest moment, he thought he would give anything to touch Aron
when they were not under duress, when the pleasure and desire were real
and unmarred by Wulfgar’s presence.
Roman forced the thoughts from his mind and moved out from underneath Wulfgar’s arm. If he kept harping on his reaction to Aron, it
would drive him crazy. He rose, washed with the icy water in the bowl,
and got dressed before kneeling before the fire, stoking the embers to life.
“You’re upset with me,” Wulfgar stated in a voice heavy with sleep.

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