Fur-Given(Furocious Lust Shorts Book 3)

By: Milly Taiden

ONE



Julie Durante glanced at her computer screen. So maybe she had a small obsession with her ex. Nobody needed to know. Rafe Sinclair had given her the most amazing months of her life. He’d also dumped her when she refused to commit. The news article she was reading showed a photo of Rafe and his two brothers going into a restaurant.

Her eyes ate up the vision of Rafe with his usual frown and super-serious features. Her friends didn’t know that he’d dumped Julie. They thought the opposite had taken place. The thing was that mating didn’t translate to love in Rafe’s book. For Julie, love didn’t equal mating. So she was more than happy refusing to mate until Rafe admitted his feelings for her. How could a man be so pig-headed?

She should be getting dressed for the ball, not sighing and wondering what the hell Rafe was up to. Most days she was good and kept her obsession with him in check. Then there were those times some society column had the three eligible bears on the front cover of the paper.

“What are you looking at?” Lizzie, her sister and roommate, asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, slamming the laptop closed with a bang.

“Too late. I saw your man in the photo. Why don’t you just go see him?” Lizzie asked. “It’s not like you can’t.”

Julie hopped to her feet and faced her sister. “He dared to break up with me when he was the one who couldn’t open up.”

“Um, he told you that if you didn’t commit he would. You didn’t commit. What did you think would happen?”

Julie growled. “I know I didn’t commit. I wasn’t going to sign up for a lifetime of him telling me he wanted me but refusing to admit his love.”

“Oh, please. You knew he loved you.”

She did. She had realized it from the first. His knowing was another story. He’d given her long hours of telling her how much he desired her, how much he loved her body, how he didn’t want any woman but her. Want. Great word. Not as good as love, though. That was the problem.

So when Rafe had told her he wanted her as his mate, to be in a long-term relationship with him and bear his children, she almost fainted from joy. Almost. Until she realized he had yet to admit to himself that he loved her. So she’d said no. She wasn’t going to give him the easy way out and allow him to use want as a replacement for love. She hadn’t counted on him being as hardheaded as her. He’d pushed her until she openly rejected him. Then came the breakup.

“I knew he loved me, yes. He didn’t seem to have any fucking clue.”

She marched to her bedroom and threw a closet door open, the wood banging against the wall. Now she had this stupid auction to deal with. Where the hell were her new gowns?

“Are you blind, Jules?” Lizzie asked, pointing at the rack next to the bed. Four ball gowns hung from it in clear plastic coverings. “You put the dresses out here.”

She glared at Lizzie and frowned at the options. Why did she let herself get caught up in the moment when it came to shopping? Whether it was shoes, handbags, or dresses, she could spend all her money buying more than she could wear.

“So pick one for me.” She pursed her lips. “The gold one is nice. Makes my skin look nice and healthy.”

“You need sex appeal…,” Lizzie said. “…that stuff you have in more doses than the regular woman.”

Julie grinned. “I do not.”

“Do so. You have got to be one of the few curvy women I know that will strut her stuff without giving a shit.” Lizzie smiled wide. “You’re my hero, big sis.”

Well, she did do that. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, and whoever was needed to look the fuck away. She was big. Curvy. Plumpy. Whatever the hell people wanted to call it, she was fine with it. She knew she’d never get another body, so why dislike the one she had? A woman was supposed to have curves. Julie just had more than the average woman. She was really big and really bold. And she was perfectly happy with that.

“Never mind that. Help me pick a dress. I’m going to be late, and it’s all stupid Rafe’s fault. Even though I haven’t been in the same room with him in almost a year, I can’t get the bastard out of my mind.”

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