He glances down at the book in his hands like he forgot what he was reading and quickly tucks it behind his back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
But I don’t miss the way he wedges the book deep into the couch cushions. Oh no, there’s no way that I’m not finding out what it is.
I walk over to the couch and innocently sit next to the large Alpha. It’s an effort not to lean into the heat and security of his body and scent. Why he feels so instantly like home is a question I can’t answer.
“I figured you’d be more of a… YouTube guy.”
“I like to read. Is that so weird?” he says with a playful defensiveness.
I twist so I’m partially facing him and slowly move closer, intending to sink my hand into the spot where he hid the book. “No, a book is a good thing.”
He glances as my hand slinks lower. And closer. And he gives me a funny sideways look. “Oh, I get it. You think because I’m a guy who rides bulls and likes trucks that I can’t also like to read books.”
Actually, the thought that he likes to curl up with romance books gives me a rush of attraction. But I’m not telling him that.
“Well, maybe I’m shocked that it’s not about guns or trucks.”
Six more inches and I’ll have it. Distraction, I need a distraction.
I take my own socked foot and tentatively try to tickle the bottom of his, and it works. He instantly zeroes in on where our toes touch and dives for my foot—exactly the distraction I needed.
By the time he realizes what I’m doing, I have the spine of the book clasped in my fingers and out of his hiding place. And when I see the title, a weird warmth settles over me as I burst out laughing.
“Twilight?” The glorious absurdity is so good I almost pee my pants.
“Alright, laugh it up, chuckles. I dare you.”
It only makes me laugh harder. And it feels so good. I forget about APBRA, about Felton, about fake dating and apprenticeships. I just laugh, and all too soon he laughs right along with me, the way you do when you’re a kid, and someone gets the giggles, and you can’t stop.
I try to get myself under control, but as soon as our eyes meet, it starts all over again. I think I might die laughing until Ifeel myself being hauled up and onto his lap. And the buoyancy of the moment takes a decidedly different turn.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you laugh?”
With the force of a hurricane, my awareness of him shifts. His scent, his control, his strength. The feel of him underneath me. The only way to explain it is that my Omega decided to kick out the rational part of me and take matters into her own hands.
I can feel the shift in him, too. The heat in his skin, the need in his eyes, the promise in the way his lips part and his breath speeds up.
“Willa…?” The raspy way he says my name grabs my attention.
A boldness I didn’t know I had lights me up. Without breaking eye contact, I place my fingers on his lips and let them trace the hard lines of his face. Satisfaction races through me when he leans into my touch with an exhalation that holds a world of restraint.
His hands are everywhere all of a sudden. He pulls me tight against him, causing my hips to arch into his obvious hardness. And he is massive, the thin material of his joggers doing absolutely nothing to hide how big he is everywhere. When he thrusts lightly up, creating the most deliciously torturous friction, a whimper breaks out of me.
“Do that again, and you won’t be leaving here without having had me buried deep inside you.”
Another whimper that is almost a whine, so full of need it takes me by surprise. I’ve never made a sound like that, but fuck if I don’t love what it does to him.
He sends his hands under my soft sweater, and the coolness of his hands on my overheated skin makes me gasp.
“Fuck, you’re burning up, Willa.” The look he gives me is full of heat and a sudden spike of concern. “Are you okay?”
But I barely hear him. I’m drunk on how his skin feels, and I drop my cheek to his. I should have asked to scent mark him, but my rational brain has gone out to lunch.
His stubble makes me want to squirm, and I can’t stop my hips from arching and sliding against his rigid cock. Seeking what I know only an Alpha can give me.
When his hands grip my hips and stop the movements, a groan of frustration comes from deep in my chest.
“Willa, look at me, beautiful girl.”
