“With honesty because of rule four or five or whatever we’re on?” I ask, arching a brow and feeling a little irritated that he’s ruined my moment with Johan. “No, I didn’t verbally ask him to touch me. But I touched him first.”
Something ticks in Lazarus’s jaw.
“No one has broken any rules,boss,” I go on, purposely calling him that since Noah mentioned he doesn’t like it. “In fact, if Johan wants to kiss me, he absolutely has my permission.”
Okay, that might be a bit far.
But I’m annoyed.
And I really didn’t like the way he stiffened and stopped purring because of Lazarus’s question. While I appreciate him checking in to make sure I’m okay, he should trust his second-in-command.
Yet clearly he doesn’t.
I stare Lazarus Ferraro down as I utter the words, “Please kiss me, Johan.”
He rumbles on top of me, his purr reigniting. “Was that enough begging for you, Laz?”
“No.” Lazarus grabs Johan and yanks him out of the bed so quickly that I yelp. “Sparring room.Now.”
Johan glares at him. “You’re going to make me deny our omega?”
“Yes, I am. Because she’s not asking for the right reasons. She just wants to piss me off. And I won’t let her use you to achieve her goal.”
My lips part. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not excused,” Lazarus bites back at me. “But you are.” Those three words are directed at his second.
I look at Johan, expecting him to tell Lazarus to go to hell. But then I catch the hint of sadness in his crystal eyes. It’s accompanied by a look of understanding.
Wait, he believes Lazarus?I realize. “Johan?—”
“It’s okay, little hacker,” he says, reaching for something on the nightstand.
His glasses, I think as he slips them onto his face. They don’t mask the emotions rolling through his features, though.
Regret.
Disappointment.
Acceptance.
That last one bothers me. Because I… I don’t want him toacceptwhat Lazarus said. Even if he was partially right. I was trying to piss him off. But I… I do want Johan to kiss me.
I think, anyway.
His purr soothed me all night.
And his scent… it’s intoxicating.
I actually think I want Johan to do a lot more than just kiss me. Which is terrifying because I shouldn’t want him. Or them. Or any of this.
I should want to go home.
Back to Widows Peak.
Where I’m safe and alone.
“I’ll be there in five minutes to spar,” Lazarus says, still glaring at me. “Go, Johan.”
