THIRTY-SEVEN
Tony
HEATH WANTED ME. MYheart had been pounding with adrenaline, throughout our entire agonizing conversation after Jez and Gage had left—but now those three words were all I could think about.
He hadn’t just said that he wanted to keep sleeping with me. He’d said he wanted me to be their beta. There was so much to unpack with that. Things like the way it had felt to wake up in Gage’s arms, when I’d fallen asleep in Heath’s... or the fact that no one had talked to Knox, the pack leader, about this.
And then there was Jez.
But Jez wasn’t here right now. Whether she broke her mating bond with Heath, or whether she didn’t—all of those things were worries for the future, not the present.
“You mean it, though?” I asked, needing to hear Heath say it again. “You’d really want something like that?”
And the part that went unsaid.You’d really want... me?
His green eyes were tired and sad. “I don’t think either of us are very good at wanting things. Maybe it’s time to work on that.”
I should have come up with some kind of witty, devastating banter to toss back to him. Instead, the achy thickness in my throat bubbled up and spilled over in the form of tears. It wasn’thow I wanted him to see me. Those tears didn’t belong to the strong, independent person I needed to be.
Throwing myself at him and trying to stick my tongue down his throat seemed at the time like a completely rational way to keep him from noticing that I was sobbing. Then strong arms closed around me, holding me in place, and tears became the very last thing on my mind.
It made no sense whatsoever that my brain had randomly decided a year ago that Heath was thesafe one. I should have been terrified of male alphas. According to society, they embodied everything that had hurt me so badly as a child. Overwhelming physical strength. Out-of-control libido. Rabid possessiveness. Toxic masculinity.
Stereotypes were just stereotypes, though.
Heath slid a calloused hand up to cradle the back of my neck, using the light grip to gentle the kiss until we were no longer clashing teeth and bumping noses. I whimpered as he tilted my head back further and nipped his way from my lips, along my jaw, and down the length of my exposed neck. His soft beard tickled my skin.
“Shh,” he murmured against my throat. “Let me take care of you.” Another nip. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand the things you weren’t telling me.” Teeth scraped along my collarbone. “I’m sorry for all of it. So, so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I begged. “I don’t want sorry. I just don’t want to be alone anymore!”
That was no better than the tears had been. But the words had been building in my chest for so long, even if I hadn’t realized they were there. Now that they had a chance to escape into the real world—now that they had a chance to be heard—there was no stopping them.
Heath rested his forehead against my shoulder for a beat. “Then don’t be alone. Be with us.”
A shivery feeling took up residence in my bones at the idea I could say yes to this. The idea that I could actually get all the things I’d secretly desired, since Heath had swooped in and rescued me from the dead body in my apartment.
Before I could blurt out anything else embarrassing, Heath slid a finger along the open collar of the designer button-down shirt I was wearing.
“How much did this thing cost?” he asked, without lifting his head from my shoulder.
I swallowed noisily, my pulse picking up again. “Um... a lot?”
Hands eased me away by the shoulders until I was sitting upright, straddling Heath’s thighs.
“Pity,” he said, grasping the sleek maroon fabric and jerking the shirt open.
Thread ripped, buttons popping in every direction. A couple pinged against the walls; most of them disappeared silently into the rumpled bedding and couch cushions.
“Christ,” I gasped, blood rushing painfully to my dick
Heath spilled me backwards off his lap. I landed in a heap on the mattress where the four of us had been sleeping. He leaned over me, bracing a hand next to my ribs—his arm caging me in loosely.
“I’m sucking you off until you come in my mouth,” he said matter-of-factly. “Afterward, I’ll do anything you want, as long as it doesn’t hurt you. But first, I want to watch you come undone without any distractions.”
What did a person even say in response to something like that?
“Okay?” I managed.
