Page 143 of Knot So Social

I lick my tongue around the guard to confirm it’s still in place.

The security officer finishes patting down my thighs. “And open your mouth for me please, sir?” His brow furrows when he sees silicone. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a bond guard,” I cite from the package it came in. Over his shoulder, Willow hears and turns to look at me. I lock gazes with her as I say, “It’s to make sure I don’t bond her on the spot.”

I try to control myself, but the alpha desire rolls out, loading my words.

She shivers at the tonal pressure, eyes widening.

I drag my gaze back to the guard. I’m on dangerous ground, and it’s not because of three armed men in the room. “Are we finished here?”

He nods and steps back. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

I follow them out into the kitchen, but the moment I catch a glimmer of lightning through a window, I herd Willow back into her saferoom. “Wait here,” I order. “I’ll see them out.”

She stares at me for a moment, a question in her eyes.

I think I know what it is, but now’s not the moment. I drag myself away and walk the security officers out. They explain the call out’s covered by Willow’s monthly fee, but the broken window isn’t.

“I’ll get that fixed,” I promise, silently begging them to hurry up and leave. “And I’m sorry about the tackle. Are you all right?”

The man I threatened shrugs. “Part of the job. Glad it didn’t go any further though.”

“Same.” One word from my omega brought me to heel. I should be mortified, but instead it’s like I finally discovered my life’s calling.

When I eventually get the door closed behind the security team, I heave out a guttural breath. If I have my way, that contract will be cancelled in days. Willow doesn’t need them when she has me and Jerry.

Groaning, I lean my head on the door. And there lies the problem.

My heart already knows Willow’s a strong, independent woman who doesn’t want to rely on others. I can’t come into her life like a bulldozer trying to take over everything. But I’m not sure if I have the strength to be cautious.

Maybe if I bonded her, I wouldn’t feel so desperate, so afraid of her slipping through my fingers.

Willow’s back in her beanbag with Mr Shares draped across her lap. Jock’s on his side, pawing at their beanbag like this is some sort of game. I shake my head and close the heavy panic door, locking us in privacy and shadow once more.

Instead of settling beside her, I sit cross legged at the end of her beanbag and pull her feet into my lap.

While I’m still trying to work out what to say first, Willow speaks.

“I had a bond, once.”

My fingers twitch on her ankles.

“It was . . . one of the most awful experiences of my life.”

“Can I—” My voice breaks and I try again. “Can I ask why?”

Willow hugs her dog tighter.

“They were people I knew in high school. I presented a little late, so suddenly I was this big deal and the three of them were giving me attention. They called it love, but piece by piece they isolated me from everyone else. I had to be always at their beck and call. That’s an omega’s job, you know.” She laughs harshly, the distaste in her voice clear.

I dig my fingers into her foot, quickly turning the reflex into a massage.

Willow settles. “His name was Bryson. An alpha, but he seemed to have a stronger . . .” She twiddles her hand in the air. “ . . . vibe, I suppose you could say.”

Her gaze falls on me, liquid with emotion and shadowed by pain.

I have extra vibe these days too, since meeting her.