My quick research foray resonated to the extent that afterward, I’d privately considered myself ace-spectrum, sex-neutral, and possibly demiromantic... after which, I didn’t give it much more thought. My instant attraction to Jez—not to mention my out-of-character invitation to have her come up to my hotel room—had been an aberration, I told myself.
Then, I’d walked into the pack house after Tony brought me home from the hospital, running straight into the unexpected wall of pheromones generated by Jez’s heat. One breath. That was all it took for every higher brain function inside my skull to route its blood supply directly to my dick.
For a terrible few moments, the single, overriding imperative driving me had been to barge upstairs, drag Heath off of my would-be murderer, and get myself knot-deep inside her willing body.
I’d been around omegas in heat before. In our line of work, it was unavoidable. However, I’d never been around ascent-matchedomega in heat. That fateful couple of minutes before Gage injected me with a dampener shot had rocked the foundations of a lifetime’s understanding of myself.
I hadn’t been in control.
I hadn’t beensane.
Additional research was clearly in order.
That research had turned up the label ‘philyrasexual,’ a term specifically describing alphas who only experienced sexual attraction when they were also scent-matched to the recipient.
And now, here we were.
The only person I’d ever found myself sexually attracted to was the same woman who’d nearly succeeded in murdering me... and who’d turned out to be an otherwise amazing person, if you could overlook that one tiny fact.
Now she was mated to my two packmates, and the three of them were currently curled up in a gorgeous nest with the adorable beta who’dalsobecome part of my pack. Tony had somehow wormed his way past thedemi- indemiromantic... and the net result was that I really,reallywanted to be in that nest with them, despite it being a terrible idea.
I gritted my teeth and pulled up the latest email from the law firm I’d hired to deal with the Paolo situation—making a concerted effort not to think about what might be happening inside Jez’s nest right now.
Paolo, who apparently wasn’t as stupid as one might infer from his horrific choice of mate, was demanding full immunity from prosecution in exchange for his testimony. I had a hunchthe others would have some strong feelings about that, after everything the little douchebag had done to them.
But the thing was, Paolo wasn’t going to traipse away after the trial and organize his own omega trafficking ring. Taking down Lorenzo Vozzina was more important than getting revenge against Vozzina’s simpering trophy omega.
If the feds are willing to go for it, I’m fine with that, I replied, before hitting send.
Resolutely not thinking about theotheromega I’d let off the legal hook recently, I turned to the pile of mail on my desk and opened the manila envelope sitting on top.
The following day, that caramel-coffee scented temptation in omega form sat across the same desk from me, as I went over her newly arrived legal documents with her.
“Birth certificate, social security card, Illinois REAL ID card, passport, mating certificate,” I said, fanning the items out in front of her. “These papers are enough to allow you to travel internationally, open bank or investment accounts, get a driver’s license, and receive government benefits—such as they are in this country.”
She looked a little shell-shocked. Uncertainty laced her scent. “So, I’m really Jessica now?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re still Jez to everyone here,” I told her, remembering what she’d told me once about her given name. “But Jezebel is gone forever, assuming you still want her to be.”
She was quiet for a long moment before speaking again.
“That name can rot in hell with my father,” she said eventually.
I nodded. “Then, may I say what a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance properly, Jessica Knockley, née Smith?” I stuck out my right hand unthinkingly as part of the joke.
She eyed it for a beat before taking it in hers and squeezing as we shook. Tingling heat rushed down my arm from the point of contact, and I barely managed to swallow my gasp. Jez didn’t manage to swallow hers, and we both pulled away as though we’d been burned. My dick twitched with interest, thickening uncomfortably against the seam of my trousers.
We stared at each other wide-eyed for the space of a heartbeat. I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Erm... anyway... I was thinking we could arrange driving lessons for you. I’m assuming you never had a chance to learn?”
Her mouth moved for a moment before words came out. “Uh... no. I never did.”
“Then we’ll get you lessons,” I said, cursing the growing ache between my legs. The faint scent of aroused slick rolling off Jez’s body only made things worse. “You, er, you should also start thinking about what kind of car you’d like to own.”
She blinked at me in bewilderment across the expanse of polished wood. “You’re going to buy me acar?”
“Well... yes?” I replied, equally bewildered. “Come to think of it, Tony needs a better one as well.”
Several emotions flickered across her face in quick succession. I couldn’t look away, although a hint of trepidation stole over me as a calculating glint entered her gaze.
