“I feel like I’ve stepped into a magazine,” I admit.
He strides over to the sofa, picks up one of the cushions, throws it into the air, then grabs a handful of wrapped candy from a golden bowl on the coffee table before sprinkling them across its surface. A nervous giggle escapes my lips, and I instantly relax. I’ve always felt more at home with a little mess and chaos. Give me flour-dusted counters and mismatched patterns over meticulousness any day of the week.
“Better now?” He flashes me a lopsided grin that makes me perfume. There’s no escaping the smell of my arousal. His Adam’s apple bobs as he brushes a curl off my cheek. “I want you to be comfortable, Delilah.”
“I…” Words fail me when he leans in, and our eyes lock.
When his mouth meets mine for the first time, I completely forget where I am and what my own name is. My body sags as his gentle lips probe more intently. It’s not my first time being with an alpha. Granted, my first time being knotted was the result of a clumsy fumble in the cornfield next to my parents’ home, so the bar is set pretty low, but this kiss is… different.
My toes curl as he pulls me closer, crushing my breasts against his rock-hard chest. His fingers get lost in my hair before he pulls back for a second, nuzzling his nose against mine.
“Don’t stop.” I let out a needy whine before catching myself. Maybe he’ll think I’m rude and pushy? “Uh… please.”
“I won’t stop,” he promises, grabbing my ass and effortlessly scooping me up into the air. I’ve never been lifted like this before, causing me to automatically panic about being dropped, but he moves like I’m weightless. Although he’s slender, he’s packing serious muscle. I wrap my thighs around his middle, clinging on for dear life, as he carries me toward an adjoining room. “I’m not going anywhere, Delilah.”
Up close, I notice a few freckles over his nose and a faint smudge of eyeliner under his green eyes that makes the color pop even more. Most bonehead alphas are obsessed with the idea of being hyper-masculine and would never entertain the idea of wearing makeup, which makes James even more intriguing. He seems super comfortable in his skin, and that—along with the eyeliner—is totally doing it for me.
He kicks the door open with his foot, temporarily losing balance while I squeal.
“This is the nest,” he declares.
I momentarily take a break from staring at his gorgeous face. The nest is dimly lit by brass sconces and a flickering chandelier overhead, creating an intimate glow. Draping fabric hangs from the bed posts, and recessed alcoves in the walls are filled with almost as many cushions and blankets as you’d find in Nora’s Nest Nook. The space smells of nothing—hinting that it had a full scent neutralization since the last guests—which only amplifies the intensity of James’s chocolate, buttery aroma that floods the room.
“Is it okay?”
“This is…” I struggle to find the words as I breathe in his irresistible sweetness. This is the kind of comfort heaven that most omegas dream about. “Like something you see inNest Weekly.”
Nest Weeklyis a famous magazine that specializes in nest interior design. I used to spend my childhood makingscrapbooks with my mom’s old copies. In fact, I’m pretty sure this room may have even appeared in an issue before.
“I hope that’s a good thing.” He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and sucks gently before whispering, “I promised to take care of you, remember? I want to give you the best.”
How have I gone from baking class to spilling my cupcakes to an incredible mountainside lodge with, quite possibly, the sexiest guy I’ve ever met? I still can’t believe I’m here. It feels too good to be true, and I keep waiting for the moment when I’ll wake up.
He sets me down gently on the enormous bed in the middle of the room. There’s enough space for about ten hulking alphas to lie spread-eagled around me. Feeling tiny in this gargantuan space, panic rises in my chest.
“What is it?” James asks sharply.
“It’s just…” I run my hand over the silky duvet. My fingers feel like they’re gliding across water as the mattress stretches on endlessly. “Really big.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Too big?”
“A little.” I fist the sheets, hoping I won’t offend him. “Don’t get me wrong, this is beautiful. So, so beautiful! But I like my nest a little snugger.”
I don’t like the thought of a bed being a vast expanse with cold edges. I need to feel safe and sheltered.
James frowns, eyes scanning the space before landing on a corner under the rafters. The nook is small with a semi-circle window that looks out over the mountain range. “How about over there?”
Relief spreads through me, picturing us curled up while looking out over the snow-dusted pines on a bed of blankets. My heart does a somersault. Yep, that’ll be perfect.
“That’ll work.”
“Would you like to pick out some pillows and blankets?” He gestures to the shelves stacked with soft furnishings. “There’s plenty to choose from.”
Plenty is an understatement. They have everything from contouring cushions that are longer than me to waffle-knit blankets in every single material and shade imaginable. The shelves are arranged by color, and I instantly gravitate toward the autumnal section: dusty oranges, buttery yellows, and dazzling golds. I run my hands along the blankets to feel the textures, having to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from crying out as my stomach suddenly twists in pain.
James is at my side in a flash. “Hand me whatever you like. I’ll get everything set up. I want you to be comfortable.”
I pass him armfuls of soft furnishings. Brushed cotton pillows, thick mustard colored blankets, and so many cushions that I’m not sure how they’ll fit in the small space, but I want them anyway. Although the nest floor is made from a soft, springy material that’d be comfortable to lie on, James carefully places all my supplies around the walls and on the floor in our nook.
