“Hey, baby,” I say, pressing my hand against the wall right above him as I lean over him. “What you got there?”
He looks up at me, a scowl instantly creasing his face. My grin broadens as I get a closer look. “Is that your punishment from Marilyn for getting all horny with me out on the ice?”
“Do you have to stand there? Can’t you just… fuck off?”
“Not when you’ve got your itty-bitty lunchbox. What’s in there?” I dip closer, pretending not to take a nice drag of his scent. Every time I scent him, it’s like a shot of pure energy buzzes through my system. He still doesn’t get why some of the guys randomly hug him to get a hit. I’d get addicted to his coffee if he let me.
My gaze jumps over the neat array of brightly cut fruit and vegetables, as well as what looks like a rolled-up omelet, different chunks of meat, small pies, and dips. It really is a nice spread.
“Damn, that looks good,” I purr to see if I can get a reaction out of him. “Are you in the mood for sharing?”
As I take another deep breath, I suddenly freeze. My hand slips from the wall, and I gasp, falling even closer, my forehead practically on his shoulder.
There’s a sweet scent curling up from the box, the scent that’s been driving me wild at night.
I’m edging closer, drawn to her maple syrup. How the hell is she here? Why is she connected to Timber? She didn’t reply when I asked her if she had another alpha, but…
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls next to my ear. I twist my head, realizing I’m bent double, my face level with his, close enough to kiss him if hot, hot fury didn’t beat off him.
Considering how broken he was the first and only time we kissed, it’s probably better to back off.
I quickly cover up how my heart is suddenly bursting with excitement as I reach over his shoulder to swipe a piece of omelet. He slaps my hand away, and I laugh as I pluck a little tart instead.
I have to keep calm, but there’s no way I could mistake her maple syrup for anything else.
Thumping onto the bench next to him, he hunches his huge shoulders as he picks up a celery stick with a frown. It’s honestly so cute the way he grumpily crunches it, and I watch him for a second before popping the whole tart in my mouth.
Need shudders straight through me, all the way from my tongue to my toes as the lightest sweep of maple syrup blends with the flavor of the tart. It’s like she’s stroking my tongue with the tip of her finger. I groan out loud as the taste spreads over my tongue.
Timber’s still glaring, and I grin as I swallow. But the second the tart hits my throat, I splutter like an idiot.
I’m gasping, hitting my chest to get the air back in my lungs, and he looks at me like I’m mad, which is totally right.
“Sorry,” I wheeze. “Wrong hole.”
There’s no way I’ve made a mistake. I had my tongue so far inside her that her taste is permanently etched in my mouth. I know when I’ve tasted my omega.
“Where did you get this?” I rasp, wiping my mouth with the back of my arm. I can’t suddenly go for the lunchbox and start chomping even though my cock is already responding.
His brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” Timber asks. “Is it really that bad?”
I shake my head instantly, trying to get my common sense back, because I can’t let my alpha side take over. If I give in, I’ll leap on Timber and lick up every last morsel in the box just to be close to her again.
“No, it’s… It’s amazing,” I say as I finally catch myself.
Every time I see him, there’s a swirl of guilt because I’m the one who broke his nose and took away his taste. But part of me still hopes he could sense her in some way.
I’ve been getting leagues ahead of myself by planning ways to introduce them and see if Timber reacts to Ollie, but it looks like they’re already beating me.
“You don’t look so good,” Timber says, peering at me. “Did something happen?”
Apart from my mouth watering, I half-hope he’ll look at my crotch to see how good I am down there.
I take another breath, and pleasure dances through me at the way their scents blend. Maybe Timber already knew her, maybe her taste was on him, maybe I can kiss him and lick up their blend of maple syrup and coffee, and live my new dream of being with them.
I scan the lunchbox to find where her scent is the strongest, and it’s definitely the cooked food. I can’t scent her on him at all, but it doesn’t mean she didn’t cook it. He could have bought it at a store, or a neighbor brought it over, or anything else that means Ollie is somehow in his life.
“Who made this for you?” I ask as I lick at the edge of another tart. I didn’t mean to do it, but the way Timber reacts, how he stiffens, how his eyes fix on my tongue, it makes me want to do it again and again.
