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It also pulls her cotton shorts straight up her round ass and I have to look at her neck before I embarrass myself.

Fuck, don’t look there. It’s smooth and biteable and perfect.

No biting strangers, Nate. You learned this in pre-K.

Every time she tries for the bolt, the shelving unit it’s on shifts, and my heart climbs into my throat. What if it tips and she gets hurt? Completely unaware of my meltdown, lithe fingers stroke the edge of the fabric, moving so lovingly I feel it along my cock. An unwanted andveryunexpected sensation.

Orgasms are a necessity I take care of in the shower, yet here I am, sporting a boner at a woman I’ve never met.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she mutters.

Agreed.

When she still can’t reach, she drops to her sneakered feet with an annoyed grunt. Round, yet delicately muscled arms shove her hair back and a wave of that sugary sweetness comes straight for me.

Yeah, those air filters are doing jack shit.

My mouth waters, pants tighter than ever. This woman is the best thing I’ve ever smelled.

Help her. Take her. Keep her.

What the actual fuck? The urges rippling through my brain are so foreign, I don’t even feel like myself anymore.

There’s a flash of memory, a moment right after I lost everything. Dez and Connor holding me back as we stare at the hospital waiting room’s destruction. Chairs broken like matchsticks; paintings pulled off the walls. An alpha on the cusp of presentation drowning in grief is a dangerous thing, and while I’m not that boy anymore, I have almost no experience controlling that side of me. What if I can’t stop myself? What if I hurt her?

My therapist’s words permeate the fear.

Acknowledge your feelings. No judgement, just acceptance.I’m unsettled. Confused. Turned on. Worried.

Good. Now, dig deeper.When I poke at the feeling in my chest, it’s similar to the one from that day, but instead of pain, this is…comfort. Need.

Safety.

This woman feels safer than anyone I’ve ever met. Maybe more than my pack.

Nurture that.I don’t know why I’m so invested in her, but I’m not going to freak out about it. I know a good thing when I see one.

She’s on her toes trying to reach the fabric again, and I can’t stop myself from moving. It’s when I’m close enough to get a fresh hit of that scent that I recognize the mistake. I’m 6’2 and with my work boots on, she’s probably a foot shorter. I don’t want to scare her, but she’s about to bring the whole damn row down on her head.

Hunching so I look smaller, I clear my throat. “Need some help?”

“No, thanks. I’m—oh, sit!” A glimpse of dark blue eyes and plump pink lips is all I get before the fabric tower slips.

I feel superhuman as I pull her into my grasp and away from the shit tumbling around us.

“Are you okay?” My hands slip on her skin, checking for injuries as she regains her balance.

“Fine.” When she tips her head back to look at me, another cloud of that perfect cotton candy sets my chest rumbling.

She tries to scuttle out of reach, but I can’t relinquish my grip on her waist when she’s so close and yet so far. “Stay.”

Forever. With me. Right here.

We can live in a fabric store, right?

“Sorry. Forgot to put on descenter before I came in,” she confesses, not looking at me.

I want her to. Need her eyes on my body like I need to breathe. “You smell incredible.”