I snort. That definitely sounds like my cereus.
The word slips into my mind before I can stop it, and I sigh. I’d coined the nickname in my head for her weeks ago, though I’ll never speak it aloud. It’s a genus of cactus, one of those random facts from a long-ago biology class that somehow stuck with me. They bloom at night. Rarely seen but breathtaking, if one is fortunate enough to view it, and there couldn’t be a better metaphor for the woman on my lap.
She grasps my hands and pulls them so they are cupping her breasts before she reaches up and tugs her hair free from the sleek bun, forcing me to swallow and remind myself that I’m a gentleman. If she were sober, I’d already be inside her.
As it stands, I’m grateful the blanket is still trapped between us, keeping my cock from its preferred location, though she seems determined to rectify that.
“Maaaark. Gimme,” she whines. With any other person in the world, I’d have called that an omega whine. My alpha responds like it is. The urge to give her whatever she wants, particularly if it includes my bite, fills me so quickly, it makes my teeth ache.
“No can do, little viper. I make it a point to only take consenting women to my bed, and you are not in any shape to do that right now.” I release her breasts and wrap my arms around her back, tugging her down beside me.
Ava pouts and strokes her fingernails over my bare chest and my abs. “I know you want me. I can feel how hard you are.”
I catch her wrist before she can slide it under the blanket and touch my cock. “I always want you, Ava,” I say earnestly. “You’re like a fucking drug. But right now, I think we’re just gonna cuddle for a bit. Let you sober up some, maybe then we can play, yeah?”
I know she’ll pass out long before that happens, but it seems to appease her, and she curls into my side. She tosses one long, lean leg over my hips.
“I was sad you weren’t there. And then I was mad I was sad,” she whispers, her voice getting husky and sleepy as she starts to relax.
I smirk. “I’m sad I wasn’t there too. That dress was wasted on anyone but me, and maybe I could have stopped you a few glasses of champagne earlier.”
“Mmmmm… pulled me into a closet like we do at the courthouse sometimes.” Her eyes start to drift closed, and I let myself press a gentle kiss to her temple.
“I would have. You’re beautiful and I can’t seem to resist you,” I respond quietly.
She doesn’t say anything, and a brief moment of listening confirms my suspicion. Her breathing has slowed and become regular. My little cereus is sound asleep.
I sigh, turning on my side so I can face her. I shift her leg enough to pull the blankets up over her body. I’ll move her to the guest room soon. I could lie to myself and say that I want the extra time to make sure she’s well and truly asleep, but I know it’s because I want to soak this up as much as I can. She’ll put her walls higher than ever in the morning, ashamed of letting me see her this vulnerable, and she’ll bolt. So for now, I’m going to pretend a little longer.
Chapter Thirteen
Ava
It feels like someone has wedged a jackhammer between my temples. I grimace and attempt to sit up, immediately regretting that choice as a sour wave of nausea rolls through me as the room tilts and spins.
“Oh, fuck,” I whine, squeezing my eyes shut and turning to bury my face into my pillow.
Only, it isn’t my pillow. The bedding is soft, but not my silk blend, and the mattress is smaller and firmer than mine at home. I inhale quickly, realizing that the room smells a little dusty, like it isn’t frequently used.
Panic claws the inside of my ribs, making it feel as though my lungs are in a vise. My breath comes in short bursts as Ipush myself upright too fast, vertigo knocking the air from me. My heart thunders as I try to make my brain put the pieces together.
I don’t know where I am.
I don’t knowwhat happened.
The uncertainty drags me into a flashback, and suddenly I’m back in the clinic during my last heat. The sharp, metallic burn of the synthetic spray in my nostrils that made my eyes water as it kicked in. Normally, it tricks your omega into compliance to ensure that the assigned alpha is a compatible match.
Except this time, it didn’t. The man in the room with me reeked of cloves and the chemical suppressant, and my omega had responded in kind. He’d smelledwrong.
The memory of his scent floods my nose as my present situation blends in my head with the memories from that day. I’d been lucid enough to tell him no, a rarity during a heat, but he hadn’t stopped. And the guards that were supposed to be paying attention to ensure that sort of thing didn’t happen had taken far too long to intervene. Bile licks up my throat as I remember the feel of his hands on my skin.
I squeeze my eyes shut, nails biting into my palms as I fight to separate then from now.It’s not the clinic. It’s not the same. You’re not there. You’re not there.
My body doesn’t believe me. My omega is shrieking inside me that I need to run. Find the alpha whose scent reminds me of the old leather-bound law books in my father’s study.
My throat is tight, lungs refusing to pull in enough air. I go through the steps my therapist taught me to calm a panic attack. Five things I can see, four things I can touch, etc. It’s only when I get to the things I can smell that my omega calms, because Icansmell him. Leather and bourbon surrounds me.
Mark.
