“My oldest sister,” he explains casually.
“Ah, well, we’re bonded. My bed or yours, it doesn’t really matter to me.” I drape the tie over my shoulders again. “If you need me, if you want my body or my scent, everything that I am is yours.”
The column of his throat moves with his heavy swallow before he crosses the room, taking my undone tie in his hands and adjusting it until it sits flat and formal against my Oxford. His fingers are long and graceful, his wrists thin—musician hands.
“Do you play an instrument?” The question tumbles out.
His eyes flash up to me. “Piano.”
“That wasn’t listed as one of your interests,” I say.
He shrugs. “I didn’t put it as one when filling out the Council’s paperwork for attending the gala.”
Before he can pull away, I grab his wrist and bring it to my lips, running them across the base of his palm. Interest flashes in his eyes, and arousal flows across the bond, but his apple scent doesn’t surround us. “Remind me to hide your scent blockers.”
His cheeks flush, and embarrassment replaces the arousal. I pull him closer until our hips bump, wrapping an arm around his waist and kissing just under his ear. Nutmeg bleeds out from me, surrounding us. Cole groans, low in his throat, nearly mournful.
“Marcus,” he whispers, desperation coloring his voice. “The car’s going to be here in only a few minutes.”
I only clutch him tighter, letting him feel my dick where it lays hard between us. He shudders as I pull the skin under his ear between my teeth hard enough to bruise, marking him. His desire rolls through our bond, stronger than before. His breathing is shaky, and his nails dig into my hips through the dress shirt. I palm his throat, tipping his head back. He complies without resistance, and I bask in the immediate capitulation to my urging. His eyes are hazy, full of need and want.
“Alpha.” Even his voice has gone low, nearly pouty. I can’t help but grin and grind against him. He responds in kind, his dick hard, too. God, do I want to lean him over the edge of my bed and knot him, send him to dinner with his dads covered in my cum. The vision jolts through me, and I grunt as my dick jumps.
A throat clears just before two raps sound against my open door. “Car’s here,” Megan says dryly. “Out of time.”
Cole’s eyes flutter closed as he swallows hard. I follow the movement of his throat, a wave of nutmeg blasting out from me. His laugh is breathless, almost disbelieving.
“I can’t believe I’m about to have dinner with my dads with the worst hard-on I’ve had in years,” he admits, his eyes still closed.
“I’ll knot you the moment we’re home to make up for it,” I promise.
His lips flick up, and happiness fills the bond.
The car takes us to an opulent, modern restaurant only a few blocks north of where the Council’s matching galas take place. A young man in a black vest and slacks opens the door to the car the moment it’s stopped along the curb, ushering us toward the glass and metal high-rise with a sweeping gesture of his hand. Cole steps out first and then turns, holding out his hand for Megan. I ease Charlotte out and then stretch my own legs, palming the small of Cole’s back.
He doesn’t hesitate, guiding us into the building after murmuring his thanks to the young man. It’s obvious he’s been here before. His strides are long and sure as he approaches the hostess standing about ten feet from the entrance, a tablet in her hands.
“How many tonight, sir?” she asks.
“Seven, but I believe the others are already here.”
She raises an eyebrow before glancing down at her tablet. “What’s the name?”
“Fallon.”
“Oh, yes, follow me.”
Though the main dining area isn’t overly crowded, she leads us to an alcove along the back wall mostly blocked by a half wall of frosted glass. Three men glance up as we come into view, stopping their conversation. Three sets of keen eyes look over us all. The man in the middle, his brown hair mostly gray on the sides, stares at me for a long half-minute. And then his eyes widen in recognition.
Cole clears his throat, breaking the heavy quiet. His nerves slither under my skin. They make me want to take him to the car and hide away, kiss him and touch him until all he feels is the warm glow of happiness I haven’t felt from him nearly enough. I dig my fingers into the waistband of his slacks.
“Dads, this is Pack Harper,” Cole’s voice cuts through the room. He holds up Charlotte’s hand as he introduces her. Megan waves as he moves on to her. When Cole introduces me, all three of the men freeze. And I know that they understand I’m the Alpha that bonded their son on accident.
Johnathan Fallon stands from his middle perch at the table, his face an unreadable, stoic mask. The others follow suit, following him around the table and then passing him, letting him fade toward the wall as they take over introductions.
Their suits are bespoke, hugging the lines of their bodies perfectly. As the second man, the one with blond hair worn longer than the others, a strand falling onto his forehead, holds out his hand in universal greeting, a watch flashes under the light. The brand is one I recognize. One that’s so expensive it could pay our mortgage for an entire year.
It’s been several years since I felt this out of place when handling the ultra-wealthy.
