I thought he was avoiding me because his sister told him what happened at the restaurant, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about it. In fact, he’s been completely normal, for Luke, that is.
It’s only when we came to the market, and I watched him interact with people, that I realized I’ve only ever seen him in my house. Apart from the first time in Marilyn’s office, and he’d acted formally back then.
The worst thing is learning that the way he treats me isn’t actually anything special. He flirts with everyone he talks to, tells jokes, and laughs at theirs with the same sparkle in his eye he has for me. While he’s having fun chatting with people and exchanging stories, I stand behind him like some tagalong, getting more awkward and possessive with every new person we meet.
Luke says he’s only been visiting this market since he moved in with me, but every stall owner acts like an old friend, and each one of them meets him with a cheerful smile.
I honestly thought I was the only one he played with and teased. I definitely found it fucking annoying at first, and I thought he was deliberately leading me on. I assumed he was playing the same tricks as my ex-wife by getting me to fall for him and then using me.
But he’s just been acting like himself.
I’ve been so furious and so insanely wound up over him because of all the things he’s done to me, but it looks like it means nothing to him at all. And I don’t know how to take it…
Until now, when he’s leading me through the crowd of people. It seems like he’s heading to the edge of the market, but I can’t be sure. He walks confidently, not looking back, his body ramrod straight.
I’m begging my cock to stay the fuck down because my alpha side is rearing up. It honestly feels like I’m going to go into rut if he gives me one more silky smile.
I thought seeing him treat everyone the same was the worst part about coming to the market with him. That was until he started slicking, and I nearly tumbled to the ground.
It’s so fucking hard not to grab him and lift him so I can bury my face between his legs. I could taste him in the oatmeal, on my bed, and even in that drop of hot chocolate by his lip, but that was all direct contact, in one way or another.
In this sea of emptiness, where the last scent I remember was my own sweat and the tang of blood ten years ago, maple syrup curls from him like a mist.
As I trail behind him, it wafts off him like he’s signaling that he’s ready for his alpha.
When I bit into the pear, I swear I tasted traces of maple syrup, but the juice ran over my tongue so quickly that I couldn’t tell if I was imagining it.
Now? There’s no denying it.
I speed up, walking right behind him, so close I could hold him if it weren’t for these fucking bags. One deep inhale, and my knees shudder as his maple syrup grows stronger with every step.
He’s acting like nothing is happening, even though his scent is strong enough that alphas glance at him as we pass. I throwevery one of them a look that promises I’ll fucking end them if they even try to talk to him.
I won’t let anyone else near him when he’s slicking because of me.
I found out it’s common for identical twins to have matching scents, and for twins to scent match with the same people, which makes it even harder to separate Ollie and Luke. If that’s the case, does that mean Luke is Kane’s match as well?
Those thoughts have twisted my mind since I met Ollie. Even though I’m forcing the lie that I don’t want another mate, I’m also greedy enough to wonder if I can bond with two omegas.
I want to find another way to meet her without being direct about it. Telling Luke outright that I’m still thinking about his sister after sucking on his pear and making him slick is pretty sleazy.
I draw nearer, almost pressing myself against his back, making sure no one can come between us as I lean down.
“How far are we going?” I ask, my lips nearly brushing his ear. He flinches, and the way that the scent of his slick grows thicker has a small growl rumbling from me. If I let myself go, I’ll grab him and drag him off to the woodland on the other side of the market.
I know he hears it, and I love the way his shoulders tense like he’s trying to control himself. I hear his sharp inhale as he misses a step.
I’ve been so wound up about how he’s screwing with me, I didn’t stop to think about what kind of effect I have on him.
What would he do if I told him how badly I want to fuck him?
“Not much further now. I just want some honey, and then you can go back,” he says stiffly, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“I can?”
“Yes, there’s another errand I need to run, but it’s omegas only.”
The desire that had been winding through me is dampened. We’ve never actually talked about him being an omega. I just remember accusing him when I was drunk, but this is the first time he’s openly said it.
