“Did you listen when I explained to Corin and Johanna why I ensured you bit me rather than her?” A rill of his frustration hits me.
“Yes.”
“But did youreallytake it in?”
The answer must be obvious. Shame and my own frustration surely seep across the bond. Why can’t he just accept my apologies so we can move on?
“I could have held your arms and kept you away from Johanna without getting bit. Instead, Ichoseto let you bite me.”
Again we stop as rush hour trams take priority in the main lanes. He runs his fingers across the mark, a caress that echoes deep in me. “I bear as much responsibility as you. I could be apologizing for taking advantage of your moment of weakness to get a taste of what bonding with an alpha might offer me.”
For the umpteenth time, I drink in the man who piqued my interest—if against my wishes, since I’d come to the meetingroom to focus on Johanna—who keeps surprising me, who’s now tied to me closer than anyone since my lost loves. Whose midnight-forest aroma lingered in my house after he left last night, disturbing my sleep.
“You’re too honest for your own good,” I say. My alpha mostly rests now, after the earlier exertions, but rouses enough to agree, flooding me with a desire to protect him against a world that rarely rewards honesty.
“Perhaps.” He grins, evidently sensing my alpha’s interest across the bond. “Strikes me, you rather like it.”
“As long as you don’t expect the same from me,” I reply. Amusement trickles back along the bond. We’re sharing bits of everything back and forth. He’s new to bonding, and I’m out of practice with blocking fleeting feelings.
It’s justso damn goodto be connected to another person again.
“You mean it isn’t catching, after all?” Another rush of mirth, this time with a teasing slant.
“Not yet.” As we pass Johanna and Corin’s house, in search of a parking spot, I wag a finger at him. “And if you’re ever involved in a court case, don’t let me catch you volunteering information. Tell the truth—always—but only answer theexactquestion you’re asked.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that if it ever happens.” Dan slips the zipzap into a small rectangular space and shuts it off. What little heat seeped through the vents instantly vanishes, and the already-cold space gets chillier. The cats’ meows seem louder without the rattle of the tires over pavement half-drowning them out.
Time to get out—but leaving the zipzap means facing Johanna and Corin again. It was bad enoughin the first flush of embarrassment and guilt after my rational self regained control. Now, I’ve had time to remember more of what my alphadid, what itsoughtto do. I cringe at the memory of Johanna retreating down the hall, much less the endless minutes spent licking and sucking her neck—though, thankfully I managed not to bite. Still not sure how my rational self kept my alpha from that.
“Well? Shall we go in?” Dan asks.
I’m not a coward. I will face my sins. Though waiting a little longer beforehand would be nice.
“What’s wrong?” Dan turns to face me, goosebumps evident on his bare skin around the bite. Curiosity and concern trickle across the bond, along with a touch of impatience.
“I came to court Johanna earlier and took a giant step forward, only for my alpha to take two giant steps back.” I rub my arms, toes curling against the cold.
“How so?”
I swivel to mirror his posture. “You saw what I did, what I tried to do.”
“For a successful divorce and dissolution lawyer, you’re doing a lousy job of figuring out people’s motives.” Dan shakes his head, and more mirth mixes with impatience to thrill me. “Maybe you’re better at it when you’re not intimately involved?”
The suggestion stings, but he’s right enough; I’m relying on instincts more than logic at the moment, and my instincts swing like a pendulum between elation and despair. Perhaps I need an external perspective, and Dan has proven capable of insight, even as he avoids lies and half-truths. “What do you see to give me hope?”
“Compare everything that could have happened—and didn’t—to whatdid.” Dan starts ticking options off on his fingers. “Johanna could’ve locked herself in a bathroom and called for help from the Alpha Center or local peacekeeping station or waited for Corin and me. Instead, she stayed with you and gave you at least one blowjob while waiting.”
All true. Heat floods my body at memory of her mouth on me.
“At which point, I offered her several options.” Dan chuckles. “You evidently didn’t listen, lost in your alpha, but we could’ve tied you up and waited until your rut wore off. Or contacted a private doctor to call in a suppressor prescription. Instead, Johanna gave you another blowjob and let Corin knot her to help bring you out. Then, she and Corin invited us to come back and spend the weekend—two whole days and nights—with them figuring out where to go from here. To me, that shows she cares about you, even if she’s not ready for you to bite her.”
How much of the hope that follows the earlier warmth is mine versus his? Hope and happiness chase each other back and forth across the bond, mine feeding his feeding mine.
“So, ready to go in and face them?” he asks.
Turning, I frame his face with my cool hands. The tips of my fingers brush his hair, thumbs curving along his jawline. Meeting his gaze, I open the bond between us to its fullest extent and lean in close enough to taste the forest on his exhaled breaths. “I want you, as well as Johanna. All of me does.”
We both lean forward, mouths meeting and tongues dueling. His taste fires my blood, but the chill ensures that my body declines to respond. That, and my cock is already tired from two or more orgasms—there might have been another before Dan and Corin arrived.
