Page 64 of Slick Trip

“I’m okay,” I whispered. “But Jon, that was . . . that was a full-on Alpha moment!”

“Keep your voice down. We don’t need any more attention right now.”

“But it was amazing,” I said, grinning. “I loved it! You scared him so good.” I was practically bouncing on my heels.

“That’s not something you should be excited about.”

“I disagree,” I said. “I think this opens up a lot of opportunities for me.”

“Coop.”

“If anyone annoys me, I’ll just be like, ‘My Alpha will deal with you.’”

Jon shook his head. In my excitement, I chose to ignore the warning look he gave me.

“I’m not fighting people because you’re bored. And lower your voice,” he added, looking around the store like some risk-assessing, hot, super Alpha. I wanted him to claim me. Right now. Show the world I belonged to him. He would make it so good.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” I said louder, lifting my chin in provocation. “I don’t care if people know I’m an Ome—”

“Stop.”

My spine went rigid.

Jon didn’t shout. He didn’t even raise his voice. But the word hit me with the force of an actual weight. I opened my mouth to deliver a witty retort, to tell him he wasn’t the boss of my vocal cords, but the words died in my throat. I could have said them. I could feel the shape of the syllables, ready on my tongue, but saying them felt wrong, like trying to swim against a riptide. A wave of warmth washed over me when I stayed quiet.

It wasn’t claiming—it was dominance. It should have terrified me, but it just made me want him more. Jon was showing me exactly who was in control, and it wasn’t me. My pulse, which had been racing with excited adrenaline, slowed into an even rhythm.

“Let’s go.”

The quiet command lifted the hairs on my arms. It was as strange as my decision not to talk—I wanted to follow him. I didn’t roll my eyes or drag my feet. I didn’t ask about the groceries we left behind. I just let him take my hand and guide me toward the exit, my mind slipping into a terrifying, beautiful urge to be good for him.

We made it all the way to the car before my attitude finally fought its way back to the surface, gasping for air.

“What the hell?” I snapped.

Momentarily, Jon looked almost guilty. “You were risking your safety.”

I gestured wildly at my own chest. “I didn’t want to speak. I wanted to shut up. Why?”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve talked about this. You’re sensitive to my authority.”

“Authority?” I scoffed, though my face was burning and not just because of indignation. “I have zero respect for authority!”

Jon lifted his brow.

“That’s different!” I said hotly, blushing. “But just now, when you said stop, I felt as though if I said another word, I’d disappoint you. And my brain decided that was the worst thing that could possibly happen. So I chose to obey.”

“Yes, you chose to,” Jon said evenly. “I didn’t take that choice away. You wanted to obey.”

“Well, you probably used some weird Alpha magic!” I crossed my arms. “Not cool.”

“I know,” he murmured, stepping closer until the scent of him wrapped around me again, soothing me. “But there’s no such thing as Alpha magic. I don’t actually have that kind of power over you. But the way we’re wired, how our pheromones work, it kind of happens naturally. You’re coming out of your heat, and that makes you even more sensitive.”

We both looked at the back seat where I had piled all his clothes with the lilac blanket and the monkey.

The parking lot suddenly felt too open and exposed in the sunlight. I was desperate for Jon. I was just about to suggest I suck him off in the car, when the air tensed.

The cart guy was marching toward us, still cradling his wrist, but he wasn’t alone. Three emotional support assholes walked with him, each the size of a small mountain.