The first one to approach me is Lothario. My shirt hits him in the face I toss it aside, and he catches my arm to stop me from proceeding without speaking. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his blue eyes searching mine.

“Nothing,” I reply irritably, trying to loose myself from his grasp while I still can.

“Not nothing. You’re upset.”

“I’m fine. Let go of me,” I say, a flicker of irritation crossing over my previously cemented expression.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk, just say—“

“Just drop it, damnit!” I snap, yanking my arm away and heading up the stairs. I’m sure he’s staring at me as I stomp up the stairs, and my heart squeezes a bit at my harsh treatment of someone who loves me so dearly. But I can’t feel sorry for hurting him and keep myself together, so I push my guilt aside to deal with it later.

I open the door to my room, slipping out of my pants and kicking them toward the laundry basket, and then pull my socks off. I stride across the room in my bra and underwear, headed for the bathroom. Raj comes sauntering out, and I sigh impatiently, waiting for him to get the hell out of my way so I can get in. He stays in the doorway, his expression unreadable as always. I keep myself under control though, shrugging negligently and moving to the dresser to find some sweats and a wifebeater. I need comfortable clothes to go vent some pent up aggravations with, and these will do. I stalk over to the bathroom, where Raj has wisely moved, and is studying me quietly.

I say nothing, going into the bathroom and doing my business quickly, and then pulling my riotous red waves into a ponytail so they won’t get in the way. I grab a face scrubbing cloth and vigorously scrub all my makeup off, taking out my frustration with my whole week, especially tonight, out on my skin.

“Pet, I don’t think rubbing your face raw will fix it,” he advises from the doorway.

I simply glare at him, dropping the rag into the sink before looking to see what damage I had inflicted on my poor face. The face staring back at me is red, bright red and stings just a bit, but the expression is the scariest thing. My face is a stony mask of indifference, right up to my eyes. I bow my head slightly, trying to keep balance before I lose it right here in front of the mirror.

“I’m going downstairs to work out,” I say flatly, pushing past him into the bedroom.

“Don’t,” he says, walking up to me and putting his hands on my shoulders. “Stay here with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, I bet I have something that’ll make you feel better,” he growls, pressing himself against my back intimately.

“I can’t,” I repeat, struggling to keep the mask in place. My fists tighten at my sides and I take a deep breath, praying I’m strong enough to hold back.

He moves to the armoire, opening it and shuffling through one the drawers. I hear the jangling of metal and close my eyes. He turns me around, his handsome facer smirking as he dangles a pair of cuffs on one finger and spins a paddle with the other hand. “Vent your frustration with me, baby. You’re so…hot when you’re mad. Makin me all quivery thinkin about it.”

“I can’t,” I repeat again, gritting my teeth against the flood of emotions threatening to break free.

He throws the equipment on the bed, a scowl coming over his face. “Why the bloody hell not?”

“Because I’m too angry,” I explain in a tight voice. “I can’t control myself. I could hurt you, and I don’t want to do that.”

“I’m asking you to, for God’s sakes!” he shoots back petulantly. “What’s gotten up your ass, anyways?”

“I just… *need* to hit something and it can’t be you. I’m not like that. I’d never handcuff someone and get out a weapon when I’m this volatile. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Why do you need to hit something so bad?” he asks quietly.

I feel my rigid control slipping as I look into his eyes; I feel the pull of my mate and I struggle, trying not to lose this battle of wills. “Because.”

He moves closer, until his body is a hair’s breadth away from me, and puts his hand on my cheek. “Why, baby?”

It’s all over as his skin touches mine. I know I’ve lost the balance I fought so hard to maintain all week and all night. “Because if I don’t hit something, I’ll have to cry. And hitting something is safer than that,” I whisper. A shudder runs through my body, and I succumb to the need that’s been plaguing for days. I start to shake with great heaving sobs, tears falling so rapidly that I can’t blink them away well enough to see. It’s all I can do to grab on to his shoulders to keep from falling.

He scoops me up in his arms, carrying me to the bed and laying beside me, cradling me in his arms. I curl into his embrace, twining my arms and legs with his so that we are touching from head to toe. His strength makes it easier for me to be weak, and I cry almost hysterically, my body wrenching all the sadness, hurt and anger from inside. He rubs my back soothingly, murmuring meaningless words of comfort into my hair.

When I finally quiet, he lifts my head from his chest and looks into my eyes. I am astonished at both my reflection in his eyes, and the pain it’s causing him. My face is red and swollen, and my eyes look raw. He sees my expression start to crumble again, and pulls my forehead to his neck, rocking me slightly. I sigh softly, feeling safe in his arms, even safe enough to let down the steely guards I put up to keep my emotions in check.

“Are you going to tell me what brought this on? Besides the stuff that happened earlier this week?” he asks softly.

“It’s really not important. Just some asshole at work,” I mumble self-consciously.

He chuckles, and tilts my head up to see my half smile. “It can’t be nothing if it caused this.”

“Just this hot shot new manager. Jumped on my ass about clean up. Really, it shouldn’t have bothered me this much,” I admit reluctantly.

“I see,” he says quietly. After a pause, he speaks again. “So this is mostly about the other thing then?”

I can hear the slight tinge of jealousy in his voice, and I smile slightly. “Well, a little bit, yeah. But mostly, the asshole. And crummy tips.”

“Bastards,” he mutters.

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet for another moment, and he sighs. “You know he didn’t mean to, right? I mean, even I know that…”

I know instinctively we’re not talking about my idiot manager, and the thought of Raj defending him suddenly makes me snicker. “You’re not supposed to say stuff like that, you know.”

“I know. Can I help it if I’m perfect?” he says, the smirk on his face growing by the second.

“Arrogant, aren’t we?”

“Always,” he replies, his eyes twinkling.

I sigh deeply as if contemplating something serious. I close my eyes for a moment and nod. “Yes, I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. Does that make it hurt less? No. Will it be better after some time? I hope so.”

He seems to accept that, and I tighten my hold on him, running my hands down his smooth back randomly. He groans as our bodies press together, and I giggle.

“How on Earth can you find my desirable when I’ve been snotting all over the pillow for a good fifteen minutes?” I ask incredulously.

His look burns me with its intensity as he replies. “You are always desirable to me, whether you’re grubby, mad, clean, crying, smiling, naked… I could go on forever. You’re my mate, baby. Mine. No matter what.”

His gruff admission touches me somewhere deep inside, and I press my lips to his, marveling as it goes from soft and questing to hard and demanding. I pull away to catch my breath, and he chuckles and rubs his nose against mine. I stare into his eyes, feeling my heart just about burst with love for this new member of my household.

He stares back for a few minutes, and then grins. “Can we please get the part where you cuff me to the bed now?”

My laughter is full and rich and echoes throughout the room, and he smiles at me fondly. I know at that moment that everything will be okay. I’ll deal with the idiot at work, tips will be better next week, and the hurt from earlier this week will fade with time. Until then, I have a clone to spank for as long as my heart desires. Life is good.