His eyes half-close and his breath shallows out as I finally let my body press fully into his. His scent explodes, betraying his need just as thoroughly as the pulse of desire across the bond.
“I have a different idea for tiring you out.”
The corner of his mouth curls into a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah? Don’t tell me you’re going to teach me backgammon.”
“Definitely not.” I scrunch my nose in distaste. “But it might involve your back, Omega.”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to because in the next second, before I can even prep for it, his lips are crashing against mine and his tongue is sweeping into my mouth. I guide his legs around my hips and then slowly climb both flights of stairs, not pausing for a second until the door to my room is closed and his back hits the middle of my mattress.
Twenty-Six
COLE
“This is the last one.”
Marcus sets the box at the foot of my bed and then straightens, looking around the room. It feels borderline asinine to have purchased brand new items for this room, but I wasn’t attached to most of the furnishings in my dads’ Seattle house—not enough to move them to the other side of the country, at least. The few items that made the cut traveled with me in the duffels yesterday. They’re dropped just to the side of the French doors on the exterior wall that leads to the sunken patio, waiting to be unpacked along with all of the items that were delivered today.
Megan glances up from where she’s pulling the plastic wrap from the new dresser and armoire filling up most of the wall across from the windows. I refused to let my dads pay for the white glove delivery despite their insistence. Instead, the company had delivered everything to the middle of the room, and the four of us have spent the last hour or so rearranging all the pieces until the room felt comfortable.
Now, my bed takes up most of the wall with the stairs, the dark walnut nightstands blending with the minimalist frame of the same wood. Both are three or so shades darker than the light oak floors. On the far wall, the largest size Luvsac available takes up most of the open floor, flanked by bookcases that reach nearly to the ceiling. Megan walks across the plush gray rug that defines my bed from the other half of the basement.
“What’s in that one?” she asks.
Marcus looks at the label on the last box.
“A sound system,” he says.
She nods. “I imagine you want it on the play half of the room?” She gestures toward the far wall and the still-empty bookshelves.
Marcus chuckles. “Hey, beds can be for play, too.”
My blush is fierce, but I don’t try to contradict him. I can feel his interest in making any part of this room forplaylike a spreading warmth under my sternum. He grunts as my own primitive response echoes through his blood, and then he grabs my arm and pulls me into him, wrapping a hand around my neck and pulling me close enough his lips touch mine. This kiss isn’t soft or hesitant like the one he gave me yesterday in front of the girls. No, this is hard and demanding like when he’d pressed me up against the wall last night.
My own apple scent swirls around us, blending with his nutmeg in a matter of seconds. It smells like fall in the best damn way.
“Not to be the cockblock of the century,” Megan says dryly, “but we’re on dinner duty tonight, and I just got the text that our order’s just about ready for pick-up down the street.”
Marcus sighs and pulls away. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are bright. The hard line of his dick presses into my hip. His lips slowly curve, showing off that single dimple. My scent grows stronger in a new wave.
With a shake of her head and roll of her eyes, Megan grabs Marcus’s elbow and pulls him away from me. I can’t help but laugh at his disgruntled huff. She winks as she leads him toward the stairs.
“We’ll be back in a bit,” she says.
Before she can get too far away, though, I grab her hand and press a kiss to her palm, remembering Marcus assuring me that no amount of time will be enough and letting it calm my nerves over doing all of this the wrong way. Her breath catches, and then her raspberry scent bleeds out from her.
She takes a half-step closer to me.
“If I don’t get him, neither do you, Megs,” Marcus says with feigned exasperation.
Megan sighs and pulls out of my light hold, following Marcus up the stairs.
“Guess I deserve that,” she says as she disappears.
A surge of happiness flows through the bond, and I laugh at them both.
Holy hell, I’m actually… happy. And hopeful. I turn away from the stairs, soaking in my new room—newnest.
Marcus’s sweatshirt lays in a heap near the foot of my bed where it must have fallen after he’d taken it off about ten minutes into moving all the furniture. Without thinking, I grab it and press it to my nose, inhaling his scent. It flows over me, washing through me like its own wave of refreshment. Instinct has me tucking it under one of my new pillows, hoarding it like I’m some kind of raccoon desperate for scents instead of food.
