I don’t understand what is going on except I feel something deep inside my chest, pulling me all these different directions. But those paths aren’t mine to follow, no matter how much I wish they were.
Out of the office, my thoughts twist, but this time a trickle of relief seeps through. I know leaving was the right choice—because if Brody could glimpse even a sliver of how free and happy I felt at the mere mention of their names, he’d make me suffer like never before. Maybe it’s because I’m leaving, giving in to the command locked inside my head, but it feels like Brody’s hammering influence dissipates.
I’m distracted, caught up in a hundred what-ifs, and I don’t realise Hendrix is behind me until I catch a glimpse of his imposing presence. Except that’s a lie. The truth is I felt him the second he was near. His presence wraps around me like a haven of protection, filling parts of me with warmth and light that had long since been dark and dormant.
Led by nothing but instinct, I spin around, cutting off Hendrix before he has the chance to slow his steps. But that was unintentional—because deep down, I wanted it to happen.
Hendrix is full of haunting beauty and breathtakingemotion, pulling me off course without so much as a single touch. We end up face-to-face in a nearby room.
There’s endless control in his shimmering green eyes—not the kind that dominates, but the kind that’s steady and unyielding. As if in this fleeting glimpse of whatever alternate universe we occupy, he’s giving me a choice. As naturally as breathing, I step making the space between us disappear. Our chests press together, and like the effect of his scent, a tremor runs through me, quaking as though thunder is roiling overhead.
Despite how tall Hendrix is, I barely come up to his shoulder, I don’t feel overshadowed. I feel sheltered.
And then he does touch me. He cups my chin and trails his thumb over my pulse. With a slight lift of his lips, he raises his eyebrows, as if he’s half-thrilled by the erratic beat of my heart. He presses on the spot again before leaning down and putting his lips to my ear without quite brushing against it.
I lean into the space, closing the distance between us. I might not have the words to properly express myself, but some things don’t need explaining.
His low, deep chuckle sends a sprinkle of tingles down my skin. The sound echoes in my thoughts, and I catch a snippet of it, locking it away to remember later.
I won’t need to though—because Hendrix was brutally clear in his words.
“You don’t need to speak to explain the very tangible connection we share, because I understand completely. But before I let you go, I do need to tell you a few things from my point of view.”
He draws in a deep breath, pulling my scent into his lungs. A low, rumbling purr accompanies his slow exhale before it shifts into something rougher, like a strangled moan. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and sparklinglight dances across my vision as I fall under the spell of his thunderstorm scent. This time, though, it’s different—less of the storm itself and more of its aftermath. Like petrichor, the time when the earth is saturated with rain, full of promise of new growth.
“I see you as mine. Even without properly touching you, I see you coming alive in front of me. There’s no argument in my mind—no doubts about what I’m doing. And for the record, I’m making it clear: I want you as mine. I’m chasing you hard, Simona. I want to know your deepest thoughts. I want to hear your breath quicken in delight. I want to watch you fall apart under me. This isn’t lust. You aren’t something I have to have just to say I did. I want you because I know,” he whispers the words quickly, but I don’t miss any of them. “You are everything I have been waiting for.”
I open my mouth to respond, but already he’s speaking. Saying things I needed explained without me asking. “I’m a grown man. An Alpha with years behind me. We may have missed the time that came before this, but from this point on? You get every day that lies ahead of us. You need time? I’ll give you time. You need space? You have it. But understand this—you are my Omega. I don’t care if you belong tohim. Stay his if you must, but know you are also mine. With that in mind, I do things differently than he does. From this point forward, you will not be without a security guard. Always. And what’s mine is yours.”
There’s a shuffle of movement, and he takes my bag from my hand. Lifting it so I can see, he slips a black Amex, a bundle of hundreds, and a phone into one of the discrete pockets.
I gasp, but he tips his head in question, a smug smile pulling his lips up. I suspect he thinks I’m overwhelmed by his generosity, and I am, but I’m also staggered by a crazy compulsion to feel his lips on mine.
I spring up, surprising him, but once he knows what I’m doing, everything else is forgotten. I hear a thud as my bag hits the floor, or it might have been my back as he sweeps me into his arms and holds me up against the door.
Hendrix doesn’t let me kiss him as if we were strangers, he kisses me like we have been lovers for centuries. Like lovers who are unapologetic in their hunger for each other.
His lips cover mine, his tongue licking along the edge, teasing but also demanding. Of course I open for him, but instead of deepening our kiss, his lips move quickly back to my ear.
“Such a good girl. So, fucking good, sweetheart,” he growls softly against my skin.
A whimper slips from my lips, an obvious ‘sir’. The word falls from me naturally and easily as breathing.
“You’re perfect,” he praises as he nips my scent gland.
His kiss was one thing, but his touch takes my breath away. The only way to describe the sensations, the release, is as if he’s flicked a switch, instantly bringing light to areas I thought would remain dark forever.
Excitement heats my blood, and he takes a pause to breathe me in, letting me hear all the layered sounds of his appreciation: fast breathing, a rumble like growl, a half-pained groan in encouragement.
“Perfume for me, coat every inch of my skin and all of my memories in your sweet scent. When I breathe, I want you in my lungs. When I talk, I want your taste, cookies and cream, in my mouth. And when I think of you, I want my cock so hard I can’t do anything but wrap my fist around it and feel the strength of our connection.”
A gentle press of his dominance and his words do their intended job, rippling past my defences, but unlike every time with Brody, Hendrix it is polar opposite. Natural and beautiful.
My head keeps spinning like I’m caught in the eye of a storm. And maybe that’s exactly what’s going on, a collision of sorts. A frantic thrill races up my spine as Hendrix’s lips drag from my ear back to my mouth, where he kisses me with the same intensity as his words. There is no way I can misconstrue anything.
“You asked me for time, and now you have it.”
I don’t fully understand what he means until I feel his hand around my wrist. I’m too captivated watching him to pay much attention to what he’s doing—until a sudden weight pulls my focus. His watch now hangs around my wrist, the leather strap and silver face resting loosely against my skin. It’s easy to see how often he wears it. It’s aged, and given the condition it’s in, it obviously meaningful to him.
