Page 18 of Bonded By Christmas

“What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it easier to transfer pheromones skin-to-skin?”

I blink and blink some more. “Do you think I get naked with every alpha who comes in to soak up pheromones?”

“Honestly?” He shrugs. “I do my best not to think about anything you do with other men.”

Wow.

He is the king of confusing signals.

Still, this is my job.

It’s my responsibility to get a handle on things.

“Okay, let’s do this. Your appointment time is running.” I grab his hand and guide him around the coffee table, but I stop in my tracks when I can’t decide if I should head to the couch or the bed. “Couch or the treatment table?”

“You mean the bed?” Wilder asks, sounding amused.

When I was hired, my manager told me they wanted us to call it a treatment table when speaking to clients. It’s supposed to make what we do sound more official or something. I don’t know. It looks very bed-like to me too.

“Just pick one,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“I can’t choose because I don’t know what my options are. What exactly will we be doing on either medium?”

I snort. “You should have been a politician. Whatever. I’ll pick for you. Sit on the treatment table. You can lean up against the pillows. Just make sure you give me enough room to kneel over you. Basically, don’t stick too close to the edge.”

Chapter Eight

Wilder

Kicking off my shoes, I climb onto thetreatment table. Treatment table, my ass. It’s a bed, and I hate every second Lacey has spent here with other alphas.

Grim is fine.

I’m the one who sent him to see her, after all. At least I know he’ll take care of her. There was also a small amount of hope that the two of them would click. He’s one of two people I trust implicitly, meaning he’s an ideal candidate for a packmateifthey just so happened to mesh.

Grim is tight-lipped about what he and Lacey do during their appointments, but the man never smiles unless he’s talking about her. That tells me that my darling little stepsister won him over during the last two months.

I lean back against the pillows, quirking an eyebrow to ask,what now?

She raises a finger and spins around, grabbing her soda. She takes a long swig, and I can’t tell if she’s nervous or if she’s punishing me.

If it’s the second, it’s not like I can blame her. The night we met, I could tell how compatible we were. That didn’t mean Icould do a damn thing about it, but I’m willing to let her torture me a little for the perceived slight.

Lacey places the bottle down on the coffee table and turns to face me, wiping her hands off on her pajama pants. It’s a cute set. It reminds me of something my mom would have worn around the house during winter.

Lacey somehow manages to pull off the simple set in a way that evokes completely different emotions.

She’s got her hair pulled up in a messy bun, and her lithe neck is about all the skin she’s showing.

That makes it hard to understand how my mouth is watering just by looking at her.

She edges closer, and her facial expression indicates she’s slightly afraid.

A lazy smile crosses my face. “I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

She scoffs. “That won’t be a problem.”