“Let’s get some sunscreen on that pretty skin, then we can relax.”
She tries to take the tube from me, but Itsk, holding it out of reach.
“You want to put it on for me?” she asks, seeming confused.
“I’ll use any excuse I have to take care of you.”
“Oh,” she says, blinking for a second as she takes that in. Then she grins up at me. “Yeah, okay. But only if I can do the same for you.”
My brave girl. She’s come so far in such a short time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Neveah
“Seriously, Vee,” Riley glowers at me from behind the counter in the gift shop. “You gotta stop, you’re driving me mad.”
I’ve been on edge all day. Accidentally barking at employees, micromanaging, pacing around like a caged lioness. But what am I supposed to do? My vulnerable omega is miles away, we haven’t bonded yet so I don’t know how she’s doing, and while I trust Brooks implicitly, the fact I can’t be by her side if she needs me is making my skin itch.
I need a distraction.
I stomp out of my office into the main area, but Riley has disappeared from where they were a moment ago. I sweep my gaze across the shop, finally spotting their slender frame exiting through the back door. I narrow my eyes, then stride after them.
I catch up easily, and somehow Riley doesn’t see me coming. They must be feeling off today, too. I reach out and collar a hand around his neck, pulling him back against my chest.
“Going somewhere, Sour Patch?”
His breath turns shallow and he freezes against me, sweet lemon spiking in the air around us.
“So what if I was,” he says.
“You really want to be snarky with me right now?”
Riley sets his shoulders and crosses his arms, not answering me.
Petulant beta.
“I see,” I say, anticipation thrumming through my blood. This is what I need. What we both need. “Go inside. I’ll be there in five minutes. I expect you to be ready and waiting for me when I get there.”
I squeeze his throat once for emphasis and he leans into me for a moment, then I let him go, nudging him toward our home. I lick my lips, watching him walk away until he rounds the bend, and then I stride after him.
I tsk, clicking my tongue against my teeth when I get to his bedroom. He’s sitting against the headboard, fully clothed, legs crossed at the ankle and a book in hand.
“Ohhhh, Riley,” I purr.
He tenses, but doesn’t look up from his book. His eyes aren’t moving, so I know he’s not actually reading it.
“I think someone is asking to be punished,” I say, walking slowly toward the bed.
One deliberate step, then another. His scent is strong, as it only is when he’s turned on.
“You have three seconds to put the book down and bend over.”
He deliberately turns a page, and I grin.
“Very well.”
I slowly slip the book from his hands, transferring it to the nightstand next to us. Then I wrap a hand around each of his ankles and yank him to the edge of the bed.
