“Okay, what did you do?” He props his hands on his hips.
“I got his attention again.”
Interest flares in his eyes. “How?”
“I fell into his lap,” I sigh before pressing my lips together. Thomas calls for our attention, and it cuts off any response Chad may have had.
We're paired back into our bus groups to venture into the apple orchard. The tangy scent of fresh apples fill the air, mixing with the smell of warm cinnamon donuts. My favorite. Pair them with apple cider, and life’s perfect.
At least it would be if I was here without a film crew.
Hailey clings to Rafe like velcro the entire time. The other omegas grumble, and I can see them already planning the downfall of the model. Other than the cameras and the fake conversation, the weather’s perfect for today's outing.
Late summer with a touch of fall in the air. The sun shines down on us, brushing my skin like a soft caress, and I turn my face up to the welcoming warmth.
I put some distance between the group and myself, dropping to the back. Stopping, I eye a red and yellow apple, and my stomach grumbles. The man said we could eat as many as we wanted. Glancing around self-consciously, I pluck it from the tree. Using my shirt, I shine it like I used to do as a kid. Then I take a big, mouthwateringly bite.
It's so refreshing, a pleasure-filled moan slips out as my eyes fall shut. Flavor bursts over my taste buds, and I chew slowly and swallow, before opening my eyes.
A squeak of surprise parts my lips when I find Rafe within touching distance, his eyes fixed on me like he's a man dying of thirst in the desert, and I'm the oasis he's been searching for.
“Rafe,” I say, the air leaving my lungs like it never gave me life in the first place.
His arm raises as if in slow motion, and my whole body vibrates with the expectation of his touch before it arrives. His pointer finger ghosts over my lower lip to the corner of my mouth.
He licks his own lip, as his gaze burns the same trail his finger just took. “You have a little juice?—”
Then he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the digit between his lips. It feels as if he's just sucked my clit between his perfect lips instead, and my knees go weak in response.I'm not going to survive this show.
When I stare at him, probably looking like a fish out of water with my mouth hanging open, he grins the most rakish smile I've ever seen and steps back.
It's then I realize cameras are locked on us, and the other omegas are watching me with envy shining from their eyes. But none of that stops the butterflies in my stomach. Not even the open hostility flowing from Hailey.
Rafe reaches forward, tangling his fingers with mine. “Can I have a one-on-one with you?”
Words. What are words? I nod instead, when none escapes my throat. Another smile that makes me feel things I shouldn't, and then he's leading me away from the group to a picnic table in a field between all the trees. A cameraman follows closely behind, but I barely notice him with Rafe’s strong magnetic presence next to me.
Did I bump my head on the bus? It doesn’t matter because excitement bubbles inside of me. Maybe finding a pack is in the cards after all. Because I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m drawn to all three of them.
I perch on the warm wooden surface and face him, pulling my leg up to the bench, when he sits next to me.
“I'm glad we can talk for a minute,” he says, before lowering his voice so low I'm positive the camera would need to be in his face to hear him. “I know you're only here to paint me as a playboy in the hopes that they can show my reform. And even as tantalizing as I may find you or my pack might find you…I think you should quit the show and save yourself more embarrassment because we will never pick you.”
I blink at him, feeling as though he's slapped me. He watches me, his gaze doing a lap around my face, a flirty, fake smile on his lips for the cameras. Something in the depths of his eyes showing his wariness. He really thinks he can just tell me what to do?
I paste a smile on my face and drop my hand to his thigh. A spark of awareness shoots through my fingertips and up my arm. And I almost yank my fingers away. Instead, I run my palm over his leg and squeeze lightly.
Is he all muscle? Dang.Focus, Lilah.
“I'm not going anywhere,” I say, determination filling me. Who is he to tell me I should quit? I lean forward, making it look like we are flirting. “And honestly, pick anyone but me at the end.”
He sucks in a breath hearing the truth in my words. Or atleast I hope that’s what he hears. His jaw sets like he’s made some sort of internal decision. “I hope you can act like your sister can then.”
“You know—” my words are cut off, along with my air, when he leans forward and kisses me.
The taste of crisp apples and butterfingers explode on my taste buds as his tongue brushes mine, and my fingers reach up to tangle into his shirt, pulling him closer. I sink into the first kiss I've had since—I push the thought of my ex away—enjoying the way Rafe’s lips glide against mine.
Butterflies erupt in my belly again as he deepens the kiss, drawing a full body reaction from me, all the way down to my toes. I cling to his shoulders as our lips dance.
