Page 31

Chapter

Twenty-Two

DARREN

I wake to unfamiliar softness beneath me and the subtle yet alluring scent of pumpkin spice filling my lungs. For a moment, I'm disoriented. This isn't my bed with its firm mattress and utilitarian sheets. This is softer, with a warmth pressed against my side that I'm not used to.

Then it all comes rushing back. Lexie. The park. Her apartment. The dining table and that pile of sweaters we desecrated.

I crack open an eye to find her curled against me, her reddish-brown hair spilling across my chest, one arm thrown over my torso.

Morning light spills through curtains she never fully closed last night, casting a warm glow over her sleeping form.

Her face is relaxed in sleep, those expressive brown eyes hidden, lips slightly parted.

She's beautiful. So beautiful it hurts just to look at her.

I've never woken up with a woman before. Not like this. My hookups have always been brief, efficient encounters that end with me returning to my own space. The pack house. My apartment before that. Always alone, always in control.

This is different.

Lexie stirs, her body stretching against mine in a way that immediately reminds certain parts of my anatomy that we're both still naked. I try to will away my body's response, not wanting to seem like some horny frat bro who can't control himself, but it's a losing battle.

Her eyes flutter open, confusion flickering across her features for a split second before recognition dawns. "Morning," she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," I reply, suddenly self-conscious. Is there a protocol for this? Should I have gotten dressed before she woke? Made coffee? "Sleep okay?"

She smiles, the expression soft and genuine in a way that makes my heart stutter. "Better than I have in months, actually." Her hand strokes down my chest, seemingly unaware of the effect it's having on me. "You?"

"Same." It's the truth. Despite the unfamiliar bed and the lingering awkwardness with my pack, I slept deeper than I have since before the concussion. Since before everything changed.

Lexie shifts, propping herself up on one elbow to look at me properly. The movement causes the sheet to slip, exposing the curve of her breast. My mouth goes dry at the sight.

"Hungry?" she asks, oblivious to my distraction. "I could make breakfast. I'm not much of a cook, but I can handle eggs and toast without burning down the building."

I consider the offer for approximately half a second before my gaze drops to her lips, then lower. "I'd rather eat you."

The words slip out before I can censor them. For a moment, I worry I've crossed a line. We barely know each other, after all, and what if she thinks last night was a mistake? But then her pupils dilate, her breath catching audibly.

"That's... quite an offer," she says, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. "Especially first thing in the morning."

I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her skin. "Is that a yes?"

Her answer is to lean down and press her lips to mine. The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but quickly deepens as I thread my fingers through her hair, pulling her closer.

I roll us so she's beneath me, breaking the kiss to trail my lips down her neck, across her collarbone. She arches into the contact, a soft sound escaping her that goes right to my cock.

I take my time, exploring her body with lips and tongue and hands. Learning what makes her gasp, what makes her dig her nails into my shoulders. By the time I reach the apex of her thighs, she's already squirming beneath me, her scent mixed with the unmistakable aroma of arousal.

I settle between her legs, hooking her thighs over my shoulders, and dive in like a man starved for pussy. The first taste of her is like nothing I've experienced before, decidedly the best taste that's ever graced my tongue. I groan against her, the vibration making her hips buck.

"Darren," she gasps, one hand fisting in my hair, the other clutching at the sheets. "God, that feels?—"

Her words dissolve into a moan as I focus my attention on the bundle of nerves at her center, alternating between gentle circles and firm pressure. Her gloriously thick thighs tighten around my head, her back arching off the bed.

I could do this for hours, I realize. Could spend all day learning the taste and texture of her, cataloging every sound she makes, every twitch and shudder. There's something primal and satisfying about reducing this beautiful, independent woman to incoherent pleasure.

Is this an omega thing? This desire to please, to provide pleasure? Or is it just a Lexie thing?

I don't have time to examine the thought because she's tensing beneath me, her body going rigid as she crests the wave. I work her through it, easing the pressure but not stopping completely until she tugs at my hair, oversensitive.

When I look up, her face is flushed, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as she catches her breath. The sight makes my cock throb almost painfully, but I ignore it, crawling back up her body to press a kiss to her mouth.

She responds eagerly, tasting herself on my lips. Her hand slides between us, wrapping around my length with a confidence that makes me groan.

"Your turn," she murmurs against my lips, but I shake my head.

"I want to be inside you," I admit, the words rough with need. "If that's okay."

Her answer is to guide me to her entrance, her legs wrapping around my waist as I push into her heat. The sensation is overwhelming. She's tight, wet, perfect. I have to pause once I'm fully seated, forehead pressed against hers as I fight for control.

"You feel amazing," I manage, voice strained.

She smiles, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "So do you. Now move."

"You're hot when you're bossy," I tell her, setting a rhythm that starts slow and deliberate but quickly builds as her hands roam my back, her hips rising to meet each thrust. There's none of the urgency of last night.

This is slower, more intimate somehow. My eyes never leave hers, watching as pleasure builds in those expressive depths.

When she comes again, it's with my name on her lips, her inner walls pulsing around me in a way that triggers my own release. I bury my face in her neck, breathing in her scent as I empty myself inside her, my hips jerking erratically.

For a long moment, we lie tangled together, sweaty and sated, her fingers weaving patterns across my back. I should move—I'm probably crushing her—but I can't bring myself to break the connection just yet.

"So," she says finally, a smile in her voice. "About that breakfast?"

I laugh, the sound rumbling through both our bodies. "Now who's hungry?"

“Well, I did just burn a lot of energy,” she points out, giving me a playful shove. "And as nice as this is, I need food and a shower."

Reluctantly, I withdraw, rolling to the side to let her up. She presses a quick kiss to my lips before slipping out of bed, giving me an excellent view of her retreating form as she heads for the bathroom.

"Join me?" she calls over her shoulder, and I'm up and following before she can even finish the question.

The shower is small, barely big enough for two people, especially when one of them is my size. But we make it work, trading lazy kisses under the spray as we wash each other. It's domestic in a way I've never experienced, intimate without being sexual.

At least, that's what I have to tell my cock to keep him in line.

I could get used to mornings like this.

The thought brings me up short. I'm getting ahead of myself, projecting a future onto something that's barely begun. But there's something about Lexie that feels right in a way nothing has since my presentation. Maybe even before that.

By the time we make it to the kitchen, me wrapped in a borrowed robe—her largest one still fits me like a damn dog costume, barely even covering the essentials—I'm ravenous. Breakfast is simple scrambled eggs and toast, but it's perfect.

"So," she says, settling across from me at the small kitchen table that isn't covered in inventory. "What happens now?"

The question hangs between us, loaded with all the thoughts that have been rattling around in the back of my mind.

What does happen now? I've spent weeks fighting against my new biology, against the changes in my pack dynamic, against the way the world suddenly sees me.

And now there's Lexie, this unexpected connection that feels both terrifying and right.

Terrifying because in the week she went MIA, all I could do was think about her. What I was missing out on.

"I don't know," I admit, because honesty seems like the only option. "I didn't exactly plan for any of this."

She nods, pushing eggs around her plate. "Me neither. I was all set to swear off dating completely after the insurance salesman incident."

"Wait, you never told me that story," I say, raising an eyebrow. "Please tell me it wasn't the same date you had to escape by climbing a window."

"One and the same," she says in a dry tone. "He brought brochures."

I groan. "You've gotta be kidding."

"And followed me out of the restaurant still trying to sell me a policy," she adds with a laugh. "I'm pretty sure he's still confused about what went wrong."

I snort. "And here I was worried I wasn't smooth."

"Oh, you're plenty smooth," she says, a glimmer in her eyes that makes my heart stutter.

We share a smile, but the underlying question remains. What happens now?

"I want to keep seeing you," I say finally, setting down my fork to meet her eyes directly. "I know it's complicated with the pack and... everything else. But I like you, Lexie. A lot."

The vulnerability in my voice surprises even me. I'm not used to laying my cards on the table like this. Hockey has taught me to play things close to the chest, to never show weakness. But something about Lexie makes me want to be honest, even if it means risking rejection.