He laughs in my ear, the sound so incredibly sexy and full of his ego. “You can pretend all you like, but I’m gonna make sure you know you’re the only one who is slow to admit the truth. Each of my pack back in that nest we just left knows you’re ours too. I wouldn’t want to gang up on ya being so vulnerable and all, but I won’t lie to you, either.”
Our conversation comes to a weird pause as he walks out of my neighbors door, and over to mine. He waits for me to put in the entry code on the door lock.
I glare at him. As if I’m going to put my code in while he’s watching, but when I look, he’s already got his eyes closed. I get temporarily distracted by the smirk on his face. And how stunning he is.
“You need more? I’m more than happy to turn right around, and you can stare at my good looks for the rest of eternity if you like.”
My mouth drops open in shock, but he’s not finished. “You might be sore and broken, but orgasms have been proven to be healing. And since we made you come so hard, so many fucking times in Italy, I reckon we’d have you right as rain in a few hours.”
Though I was bone tired before, his BDE is like pure electricity. He makes me feel like I could run a marathon. He was like this in Genoa too.
With a simple touch, and a handful of dirty words, he has me there again. I see those memories almost as clearly as being in the nest of his Omega. The latter is like a bucket of ice water, zapping me of my energy again. It’s a reminder. The pain from my injuries flare back to life, and I make a weird noise.
Of course he flips everything upside down again. His teasing disappears in an instant, and his “needs” shift from sharing dirty pasts to acting like my Alpha. Even his deep chocolate scent changes, becoming less suggestive and more stabilizing.
“Come on, let’s get you inside. Put your code in. Can you do that for me?” His voice changes like his scent, and I’m a slave to it. Probably him, too, if truth be told.
There’s nothing I can do to hide the way my hand trembles or the loud groan of pain when I stretch too far. I can’t even find the energy to hide the code from him. I want to get inside and flush the fucking bug from inside my panties before curling up in a ball and dying.
“I can walk,” I argue.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he counters as his arms tighten. “How are you feeling now?
“Like shit,” I admit without meaning to.
I’m surprised he doesn’t start grilling me after what I said. He doesn’t walk faster, but he doesn’t let me get jostled by his steps either.
Caring. Looks great. Smells better. Amazing fun in bed. Yeah, this Alpha is dangerous. And it has nothing to do with his surname.
“You don’t want to know my name?” he asks, his question coinciding with us arriving at my bedroom.
Considerate too. Goddamn him.
Being slow and obvious, he lowers me to my feet, and I use the door as support, just in case. Once it’s clear I’m not going to crumble to the floor, he takes a step back.
I twist around, ready to tell him I’m good and he can go, but he’s right there, so close his breath tickles my lips.
“Go shower, but leave the doors open. I won’t come in, but I’m not going to let you shower without someone being here.”
“No. I’ll be fine,” I argue.
And I get what he’s saying. I know the protocol for checking on people who are taking strong medication after an injury, but I will be fine. I’ve been by myself for a long time, and I know myself better than anyone does.
I turn properly and stare him down. I wait, watching him closely while he figures out for himself that I mean what I say. Letting him in here is more than I would normally do, but that’s it. It simply doesn’t sit right that I’m here, and his packed Omega, who is just as injured as I am, is there. Plus, I can’t trust him not to snoop around.
Without explanation, he stomps away, and I release the breath I was holding. Even though he doesn’t walk straight out the door, detouring instead into my kitchen, I feel better. A tad sad, but that goes with the territory of pining after Alphas, and Betas, Omegas, too, that aren’t mine. Not that I’ve had much experience with that scenario.
In a few minutes, he’s back, and God knows where he pulled a freaking tray from, but he has. And not only that, he’s warmed a couple of the pre-made meals, as well as added packets of crisps and cookies, juice, water, a small pot of tea, a note with phone numbers written on it, a phone, and the medication.
“Wow, that’s a lot.”
Hepfftsme. “You haven’t been properly tended to if you think this is a lot. That pisses me the fuck off. You throw me out of your house, and now you’re telling me this is a lot… Not coping over here, Tally.”
My gaze drops from his. It’s instinctual, but he has such a pull over me, I doubt I’d have the ability to go against anything he said even if I was firing on all cylinders. On top of that, I can feel his emotions and have a desperate need to comfort him.
I exhale in defeat. “Please. Just go.”
“Look at me,” he says, as if to prove a point, and my eyes fly to his like homing pigeons. “We are a phone call away. Don’t be stubborn.”
