I can’t help but take deep, gulping breaths of his scent. Whoever this is, he’s clearly an alpha.
An alpha who smells freaking amazing, like the earth after rainfall. Petrichor.
I suck it down like oxygen, even as my breathing speeds up and I feel lightheaded. The hands resting on my arms rub up and down, gently soothing me, the alpha curving himself over me as whispered words brush my ear.
“Turn around, sweetheart. I need to see your face.”
There’s a familiar rasping undertone to his words, but I’m still lost in his scent. Spinning, I press myself into a broad chest, my nose seeking the touch of bare skin left open at the top of his dark shirt. My hands slide up, gripping the collar of his shirt as I breathe deeply, and his head drops to the crook of my neck as he breathes in.
“Fuck.”
His growl reverberates through my bones, settling deep in my chest with a harsh tug.
It’s want, it’s longing, it’s straight-up lust like I’ve never felt before in my life.
And as he moves back, for the first time in my life I let out a long, needy whine.
Holy shit.
Is this—no.
It can’t be.
But as my head clears and I yank myself back to stare into impossibly familiar, widened violet eyes, I know there’s no mistake.
Jax Cohen isn’t just my future alpha.
He’s my damn Soul Bonded.
7
JAX
The omega lifts her nose from my skin, her cheeks flushed as a low, drawn-out whine reverberates against my chest.
A sense of rightness settles over me as I slide my hand behind her back, my thumb stroking her skin through the satin of her top. Leaning in, I brush my nose along her neck, pulling her closer as she shudders. She’s mouthwatering, the waves coming from her skin reminding me of raspberry ripple ice cream, my favorite.
“Mate.” My voice is hoarse, the shock of the evening finally hitting home.
I came out for another standard gig, another night of playing to the same crowds at the same place. But this… I didn’t expect this.
She’s my Soul Bonded.
My hand clenches possessively against her as I pull her against me, drawing a startled mew from her throat. Turquoise eyes scan my face hesitantly as I take her in, from her short frame, barely reaching my chest, to her gloriously pink hair, loose curls tumbling to her waist.
And thosecurves.
Stunning.
Mine.
We explore each other in silence, our eyes roving over the other. As I open my mouth, a high-pitched squeal cuts through our moment.
“Oh myGod! Jax Cohen?”
The glazed look in her eyes evaporates, a hint of fear entering them. When I move to pull her in to me, I’m stopped by a hand on my arm. Looking around, I realize that there’s a small crowd forming, girls starting to push at each other to try and get closer.
Fuck. Clearly, my old baseball cap only covered me for so long. But I had to come out here, had to find out what was drawing my attention like a damn homing beacon.
