Page 5 of Autumn be His Wife (Alphas Fall Hard Collection #4)

“Is it good?” The question leaves me automatically, and I’m not even sure I actually want to know the answer. Rather, I kind of just want to keep watching him as he makes sure not to leave an ounce of stickiness behind.

While I thought the dessert was delicious when I ate it with my plastic fork, would it taste any better if it were his fingers pressing a piece to my lips?

Just imagining it has my blush spreading to my cheeks.

“Haven’t stopped by in a few weeks. Makes me want to swing by here soon with Eli.

The women there like to sneak him a little extra when they don’t think I’m looking.

” He grins, clueless to the mess that’s happening in my head.

“I could eat two full slices and try to return for more if I didn’t have great self-control. ”

I don’t think I can say the same thing for myself. When I see something I really want, even if I can’t have it, it won’t ever leave my mind. It’ll linger like a curse, haunting me.

Right now, I’m not feeling a sad longing like I had when I looked at all those delicious desserts. Rather, I’m feeling…impatient. It’s the strangest thing, and while I’m not sure what to do with these feelings, it claws less at me when I linger near him.

“Forest Grove has a lot of secret treasures throughout the streets. I’ll have to show you around.” He hums as he thinks about it. “If you’ve got a weakness for sweets, we’ll swing by Gourd for You. They’ve got pastries out of this world, too.”

He speaks like he expects me to remain by his side for more than today. Does he plan on letting me stay until I find who I’m looking for?

What happens if I just…stop looking? What if there’s a chance I already found who I wanted?

Biting the inside of my cheek, I don’t call him out for how he’s talking, but I soak in the future he’s painting.

Tossing the trash away, I follow him out of the clinic. “Hope that didn’t ruin your appetite for a future lunch?”

I’m sure this hunger I’m feeling will turn into my stomach rumbling any moment now.

“Not even close.” His chuckle fuels my tingles as we reach his truck. As he pulls the passenger side door open before I can, he leans against it. “We have a few stops first, but one of the ranches I tend has a mess hall. Pretty solid food. How does that sound?”

If he listens closely enough, he’s going to either hear how hard my heart is beating in my chest, or he’s going to hear the flapping of butterfly fingers banging around my rib cage.

“Sounds…really good.”

Too good to be true.

Ever since I hit this town, I’ve been hit with a kindness I’ve never known. Sometimes, I wonder if this has all been a dream. If it is, I never want to wake up.

He lifts his chin, motioning me to climb in.

Suddenly, what happened earlier pops back up in my head. Remembering how it felt to have his hands gripping my sides, his warmth soaking past my clothes…

“Can you help me?” Once more, I have no control over what comes out of my mouth. “It’s a tall truck. I can’t… I mean, I can , but—”

“Yeah.” He nods, the word coming out rough like he’s choking on it. If it’s something that makes him uncomfortable, then I don’t want—

He steps toward me without another word, his hands finding my sides like he’s already familiar with my body. As soon as he makes contact, my thoughts sizzle up into nothing but the realization that I enjoy his touch. Not in the appreciative sense.

He lifts me like I weigh nothing more than a feather, and it’s completely different than how it felt when he helped me down. Instinctively, my hands shoot out to grip his shoulders like my body is afraid of falling.

It’s understandable that he doesn’t expect my jerking limbs, but he doesn’t drop me, even when my thighs automatically hug his sides. Instead, he freezes.

It’s like I’m hugging a stiff tree, its trunk too thick.

We’re in public.

He stumbles only slightly, leaning forward. Thankfully, we don’t crash into the open cab. That would be far worse than him leaning more toward the closed door to the left.

The back door presses into my back as he steadies himself. It’s not the pinch of his brow that makes my heart crash hard, or the way his smile disappears.

It’s what I feel pressing against my inner thigh. What makes me realize what this something is that I’ve been feeling, especially when he adds a little more pressure, like he’s seeking relief from the same thing warming my body.

If he just lifts me a little higher and turns just slightly, he’ll touch me in a place that needs the most attention.

“Sorry.” Whispering the word, I realize it’s a lie. It comes out so wobbly, so breathless.

I’m not sorry one bit.

His eyes lower like he’s realizing what position we’re in before a whispered curse leaves his lips. Remembering how to move, he doesn’t do what I want. Instead, he twists and plops me down on the passenger side like the goal originally intended to be.

He doesn’t address what just happened, but he doesn’t need to.

Lowering my eyes, I can see it. The outline of what was just digging into my thigh. Oh.

We’re both feeling this way. Aroused.

Unlike me, who isn’t thinking clearly and just wants to relieve this growing pressure between my thighs, he puts some distance between us.

Our earlier conversation picks the perfect time to replay in my mind. He’s got great self-control when it comes to holding himself back.

But me? I’m helpless when it comes to staying away.