And Beckett would.
He’d be out of his clothes so fast, he’d be nothing but a blur of boots and breeches.
But Arden wasn’t going to suggest any such thing. Not because he didn’t want it. Having flipped through that eye-popping sketchbook of his, Beckett was keenly aware that his omega had a fascination with Beckett’s body. The lovingly drawn muscles, the shadows and the hollows.
It had been…
He let out a harsh puff of air. It had been something, that was for sure, to see himself as an object of curious, innocent desire.
Perhaps Jack saw him the same way. Minus the innocence. Nothing innocent about Jack. His alpha was as earthy and?—
Beckett stopped so suddenly the water sloshed over the rim of the bucket and splattered onto his boots and the polished wooden floor outside Arden’s chambers.
His…?
Hisalpha?
Jack wasn’t…Beckettwasan alpha, he didn’thavean…
His hand tightened on the handle of the bucket.
Godsdammit. Jack was his alpha.
Not only had Beckett gone and yielded, it was so easy, he hadn’t even noticed.
It didn’t feel wrong, was the thing. Recognising Jack as his alpha should have cut at the heart of who Beckett thought he was.
It didn’t.
It felt right.
Something hehadnoticed was Jack taking a lot longer than he’d said he would to join them.
Beckett knew why. For once, it wasn’t the Council. Jack was letting Beckett court Arden. Letting him gentle Arden, get him used to his presence. Get him used to being welcomed by Beckett rather than scurrying around thinking that Beckett was resenting him every second of the day.
Beckett appreciated it, but it was time Jack got a move on. In a week, ten days at most, Arden would have another heat.
Needless to say, their omega didn’t have a clue. Beckett did, and Jack needed to be here for it. Even though Beckett would most likely be the one taking Arden through it again, Jack needed to be here.
He didn’t knock on the door to Arden’s chamber; just turned the handle and went on in.
Arden was in his robe, kneeling on the floor by the steaming bathtub, swirling a hand dreamily through the hot water. He glanced up expectantly when Beckett came in, and there it was. The simple, happy smile that Beckett thought he’d never get from the shy man.
Beckett strode across the room and emptied the bucket into the bath. He reached down and took Arden’s small face between his hands, lifting it. He didn’t kiss him until Arden’s smile turned into a pout. Then he closed the distance between them and bit his plump lips gently.
“Come on.” Beckett stepped back and pulled Arden to his feet. He was as light and supple as a little ferret. “Get naked and hop in.”
Arden clutched the robe to his throat. “You have to turn your back first.”
“Not a chance, Your Grace. Are you going to make me strip you?”
Arden slapped out at him playfully. “Don’t you dare!”
“I’ve seen you naked.”
“In very specific circumstances, Beckett,” he said with a haughty sniff.
“Go on,” Beckett said. “Show me.”
