“Right?” I laugh, my fingers scratching over his jaw as he keeps biting it in frustration, “How the hell did that happen?”
“Wish I knew. I booked the place online, got a confirmation text and sent it to you.”
He looks tired and I trace the proof of his stress under his eyes, and as much as I want my heat with him and his bites on every part of me, it’s not the right time.
“Let me out,” I say, pushing a hand against his chest to get him to move.
“What are you doing?” he asks roughly, refusing to budge. “I see you making fucking decisions, Tris, and they should involve me too.”
“Yeah, but you’ll say you’re fine.”
“I am,” he snaps.
I rub his chest. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
I glance away from him for a second because whenever I look at King in the eyes, I also lose track of time and what I was going to say. “Don’t get pissed at me, but I want us to delay whatever amazing plans you had for me tonight.”
“No!”
“One night, King. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Why do you need one night then if it’s only ‘one night’,” he mimics, being a bit of a cunt.
“Because you and I will always be tight. From the day we met we both knew it. Your bite on my throat is something Iwant,not something Ineed. But right now, what I need is to just hangout, maybe a lazy fuck in front of the open fire while you feed me peeled grapes.”
He squints at me, a tiny smile on his lips. “How you know I got you grapes?”
“Because you would have done everything in your power to make this special.”
“So, we do this now.”
“No.”
“Give me a good reason,” he demands.
And at that exact moment, one of their bikes fires up, and a second or so later, Maverick tears off up the road I came in on. As he rides past, he looks at me and lets me know he’ll call me.
“That’s one reason,” I say once we’ve both watched Maverick disappear. “Reason two and three are lurking around here somewhere. Want me to go on? Because I can. The other things bubbling in my head are I want to hear about how Joker is, and then I want to watch you sleep, maybe even suck your cock while you’re out for a few hours.”
“How the fuck you think I’m going to sleep now!” he jokes but it falls flat because he can’t hide a tease of relief that saturates the space.
“We can do twenty-four hours, right…”
“And your heat?”
“A couple of tabs and I’ll be good.”
“They make you sick, killer, and that eats me.”
“Well, how about you eat me, while I eat those grapes you had and voila, problem solved,” I laugh before sobering up. “You know I’m right.”
He closes his eyes and I give him the time without pushing. I’ll save that for if I think I’m going to lose our not really argument. It takes him less time to agree than I thought possible.
“Killer, I’m pretty sure I don’t tell you enough how much I love you,” he says, being strangely sentimental.
King isn’t one of those Alphas who’s afraid of his feelings, but he definitely doesn’t write me poems or send roses. I get his love in so many other ways.
