“Let me,” he murmurs, easing the fabric over my head.
He tosses it onto the counter, and his palms slide across my bare torso, drawing a shiver from me as his fingertips trace each rib as if he’s memorizing my body through touch alone. When his thumbs find my nipples, I can’t stifle the soft gasp that escapes my lips, my head tilting back as heat blooms beneath my skin.
His fingers trace the curve of my collarbone before they drift down to circle my navel, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “I’ve missed this.”
My stomach flips because I’ve missed him, too, and it terrifies me. “If you were lonely, you could’ve picked up any omega off the street.”
Rowan’s hands freeze on my skin. “Are you trying to piss me off right now?”
I shrink back, caught.
His jaw hardens. “There are no other omegas. Not for me. And there had best be no other Alphas for you.”
My pulse leaps at the claim, and my mouth opens to protest, but no words escape. I tell myself it’s because I need his goodwill to keep Lena safe, but it’s a lie I can’t force myself to believe.
His expression softens as he traces the edge of my nape guard, then lowers his head. His teeth scrape the plastic, testing its give. When he pulls back, his nose wrinkles in distaste.
“Cheap,” he mutters, running his tongue over his front teeth as if trying to remove the flavor. “I’ll buy you a better one. Premium leather. Better for biting.”
My spine stiffens beneath his touch. “You’ve done enough already.”
Rowan’s jaw tightens, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “I want to do more. If you’ll let me.”
The words hang between us, loaded with too many emotions I’m not equipped to deal with right now, if ever. My body sways, fatigue overpowering adrenaline as the events of the day crash through my system.
“Shower while I order food,” Rowan says, stepping back with reluctance. “Afterward, we can enjoy ourselves in a real bed for once.”
My body responds, heat coiling in my hips as my ass clenches.
The debt counter in my head doesn’t stop.
It just changes currency.
12
The mattress gives beneath my weight as I perch on the edge of Rowan’s bed. His sheets still carry a unique blend of expensive laundry detergent and his pheromones, a combination that fills my lungs with each breath I take.
I run my palm over the cool fabric, my broken cuticles catching on the silky material. Rowan had taken a call after dinner and had to step out, leaving Lena and me alone in his space.
My baby sister had been all too eager to return to her room to take a long bath, leaving me to clean up the food containers from the Thai place, then retreat to Rowan’s bedroom.
That was almost two hours ago.
I stand and pace the length of the room, my sock-covered feet silent on the plush carpet. The clock on the nightstand reads ten forty-seven. My fingers trail along the edge of his dresser, where I had placed the bowl Lena made me, its pieces glued back together as best as I was able.
My clothes now hang in the closet alongside his far nicer possessions, and my hole-filled socks rest next to his, some still in the package.
I didn’t bring enough to occupy me for long, which left my thoughts circling into places best not to dwell on for too long.
Through the cracked door, footsteps approach from down the hallway, a steady stride that I’ve already begun to recognize as his. My pulse quickens, and I wipe my palms on my threadbare sweatpants.
The door opens without a knock, and Rowan fills the frame, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the hallway. He’s removed his button-up shirt, leaving only a black undershirt that stretches across his chest and highlights the muscles in his arms.
“Thought you might be asleep already,” he says, closing the door behind him, and the minimal noise from the rest of the apartment silences.
My mouth goes dry as I watch him cross theroom, and I sink to my knees in the center of the carpet, positioning myself in his path.
Rowan stops, his nostrils flaring as his breathing changes rhythm. “Well. Hello to you, too.”
