With his arms stretched out overhead, his shirt lifts ever so slightly, and I see his smooth tan skin, and I really, really want to lick his exposed skin. But I’m sure that’s public indecency. Especially since I know once I start, I won’t stop.
I was never that sexually motivated? Even during heats, they were more painful than anything. I’d had sex with one person in high school and was with the Fallon Pack as soon as I graduated. With the Fallon Pack, I ran after two years with them, and I’m so grateful they thought withholding sex was a punishment for me.
Like they were the real prize.
But now I get it. I get the need, the desire. The Fallons were never the prize, but Havoc, Silas, and Thorne definitely are. A prize I wanted to claim more and more as each minute of the day went on.
I’m… actually excited for my heat? Being mated makes a difference. I have some—three someones—who I want to be there… I just need a place.
A nest.
That minor fact should have calmed me down like a water bucket pouring over my head, but it didn’t. It’s like my mind isn’t acknowledging it. It doesn’t sadden me as much as it did before. Maybe because I have a space, just not a space that is ready?
“Do you know what you want to eat?” Havoc asks as he checks the time on his watch. I smile as I tear my gaze from his chest to his equally beautiful face and shake my head no.
Well, I could eat him and be perfectly satisfied.
He stares into my eyes and smiles as if he knows what I’m thinking. My body moves before my mind, and I’m in his arms again and snuggling him as my hands slip under his shirt. His cool skin meets my hot hands, and I melt into him.
“You need food.” His voice is gruff, and I want so badly to reach down below his belt, but I won’t. I’m yearning to be a good girl for him.
Despite his words, he lifts me, and I cup his face and lean forward, meeting his lips with mine. His lips are narrow but feel so good against mine. My hands are in his hair and pull him impossibly close as I lift myself up and rub myself against his abdomen.
His skin is so edible under my lips, and I want to bite him all over again. He grips my ass as I moan, trying to touch him everywhere. I’m moving feverishly against him, and he lets my lips go with a pop and sets me down on the counter.
“We can’t here,” he murmurs, yet his hands don’t leave my hips. A whine is stuck in my throat, and I’m trying my best to stop it from coming out. What the hell is wrong with me? I got a bond, and now I don’t know how to be normal?
“You’re right. I wouldn’t be able to get the smell out before another customer comes in.” I run my hands over my head again, trying to smooth out my rampant emotions as Havoc steps back—one step. One step is all he takes, and I want to reach for him.
I don’t know if it’s the desperate omega in me, but he looks to be struggling too, and I’m glad I’m not the only one. He’s still so close, his eyes are steady on me, and I itch to climb him again. But I resist; I can be patient.
“Food,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Food.” He agrees. “I’m going across the street, right there.” He points to the taco truck outside the stadium.
I nod, telling him what I want and waiting for him to walk out the door before sliding off the counter. Standing behind my counter, I watch the time. It’s a little past noon and normal for the last four hours of my day. I open the store to walk-in customers, the window shoppers, but I think I should close. I’m not myself. Having turned into a horn dog, I shouldn’t be around customers. My body temperature is too high, and I can’t get Havoc or any of the guys off my mind. I was stumbling over my words all morning and just embarrassing myself in front of my clients.
I need a break.
Deciding to close, I flip my sign and turn off my open light. I left the door unlocked since Havoc is coming back with food; maybe food really will make me feel better.
Closing down the cash register, which didn’t even get used today, and cleaning off the counters, I make my way to my office to grab my keys when I hear the bell ring signaling Havoc is back.
“Hey, I decided to close. I’m not feeling well—” I freeze. I grip my keys, and my eyes are stuck on the intruder.
Jackson Fallon.
His blond hair is overgrown and greasy. He’s lost some muscle mass, but he’s still worlds stronger than me, and he knows it.
“What are you doing here?”
“What areyoudoing here, omega?” His voice sends chills down my back, and I do my best to appear unaffected.
I keep my eyes trained on him, though I itch to cast them downward as if that would protect me.
He steps forward, and I jump back, trying to hold out my hands, hoping he’d keep his distance.
“I live here. I’m bonded Jackson.” My words come out rushed. I’m trying to see if I can see Havoc outside, but I’m too far away. Maybe I can make a run for the back.
