Page 38

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 against my jeans, but I ignore it. This is about her.

I press a kiss to her inner thigh before moving up to join her on the couch, pulling her into my arms. She curls against me, boneless and satisfied, her head resting on my chest.

"That was incredible," she murmurs.

"Yeah," I agree, understanding perfectly. I press a kiss to the top of her head, content to just hold her. "You taste fucking amazing. I could eat you every day for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert."

She gives a breathy chuckle that makes my jeans torture. "I wouldn't complain."

We stay like that for a while, her breathing gradually slowing. It's peaceful. Right.

"I could return the favor," she murmurs eventually, her hand sliding down my chest toward my belt.

"Trust me, that was my pleasure," I assure her. "But I definitely wouldn't turn that down."

Her smile is soft, almost shy. "You know, you're as good at eating pussy as you are hockey. A shame there's not a medal for it."

"Trust me, those sounds you make are better than any trophy on my shelf," I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She settles back against me, her body warm and pliant in my arms. Our lips meet again, and just as she slides down lower, teasing my belt buckle with her fingertips, her phone buzzes from somewhere in the apartment, breaking the moment.

She groans, burying her face against my chest. "Ignore that."

I'm more than happy to do just that, but she's barely got my jeans open when the phone buzzes again, ringing this time.

"Fuck," she mutters. "It's only set to ring if someone calls three times in a row."

"You'd better get that," I tell her, talking my cock down off the ledge.

She gives me an apologetic look, reluctantly extracting herself from my embrace.

She pads across the room to retrieve her phone from the kitchen counter, still gloriously bare from the waist down, her oversized sweater just barely covering her incredible ass.

The view is distracting, to say the least. I think this could start a whole new trend.

No pants, just a sweater. Men sure as hell wouldn't complain.

"Hey, what's up?" she asks, sounding surprisingly put together for a woman who was just gasping and writhing under my touch. Her expression falls flat. "Wait, she what ? How did she even get scissors into— both pigtails?!"

I wince. Sounds like Godfather the kindergarten edition.

"Okay, yeah, I can be there in ten," Lexie says, flustered as she moves around the room gathering her keys and wallet. "Bye."

"It's Jess," she confirms as soon as she's off. "Apparently, Taylor got into a fight with a little girl who was picking on another kid at craft time. Glue was sprayed. Pigtails were cut."

"Man, kindergarten sounds rougher than hockey," I tease, watching her with my arm draped over the back of the couch. "Anyone hurt?"

"Nothing a few bandaids won't fix," she says with a sigh. "But Adam is home sick, and Jessica needs a sitter while she runs down to the school."

"Of course," I say, understanding immediately. Family comes first. It's one of the things I admire about her. "Need a ride?"

She shakes her head, already moving toward the door. "Thanks, but it's just a few blocks. Can you do me a huge favor and lock up?"

"Sure, but I think, I think you forgot something."

"Oh, right," she says, rushing back to plant the most delicious kiss on my lips. It sucks the breath out of me and I return it, resisting the urge to dig my hands into her hair since I know she needs to leave and I won't be able to help messing it up.

When she breaks away, I stare at her, dazed. "That was one hell of a something," I say, a smile tugging at my lips. "But I was referring to your pants."

She looks down with a startled yelp and tugs her sweater down. "Oh my God!" She rushes into her bedroom and I can't help but chuckle as I hear her rummaging around in her drawers.

I stand, adjusting myself discreetly. The situation in my pants has calmed somewhat, but I'm still uncomfortably aware of it. But the memory of her coming apart under my tongue is worth any discomfort.

"Sorry about this," she says, emerging from her bedroom in those new jeans a different sweater, this one a soft lavender that brings out the warmth in her brown eyes. "Raincheck?"

"Of course," I say, standing to meet her by the door. "You name the time and place, I'm there."

She smiles, that genuine, warm smile that makes me feel warm and tingly in the best way. Then, to my surprise, she reaches down, her palm pressing against the front of my jeans where I'm still half-hard.

"Raincheck on this, too?" she repeats, her voice dropping to that husky register that immediately sends blood rushing south again.

I swallow hard, covering her hand with mine and giving it a gentle squeeze before reluctantly moving it away. "Now that's a given."

Her eyes darken slightly, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to my lips. As she pulls back, a mischievous glint appears in her gaze.

"Maybe one of your packmates can help with that in the meantime," she suggests with a playful smile.

I give an awkward laugh, caught completely off guard by the suggestion. "Oh, no, we, uh, don't do that," I stammer, feeling heat rise to my face.

She cocks her head to one side, genuine surprise crossing her features. "Really? You guys all seem to have such good chemistry. I just assumed you were together even before you found out you were an omega."

The comment feels like a splash of cold water to the face. My packmates? Like that? The idea is so foreign, so unexpected, that I'm not even sure how to respond.

Sure, we're close. Closer than most teammates. We live together, train together, share victories and defeats. There's a level of intimacy there that comes with being pack. The casual touches, the physical closeness that's as natural as breathing.

But sex? With Jax or Zayn or Dmitri or Aidan? The thought has never crossed my mind other than this whole thing starting out because I didn't want them looking at me like that.

… Has it?

With my new omega biology, it's crossing my mind a little more than I'd like.

I realize I've been silent too long when Lexie touches my arm gently, concern replacing the playfulness in her expression.

"Hey, I didn't mean to make things awkward," she says softly. "I just thought... well, a lot of packs have that kind of dynamic."

"No, it's fine," I assure her quickly, forcing a smile. "We're just not like that. We're teammates first, you know? Pack second."

She studies me for a moment, like she's trying to decide if I'm being honest with her or with myself. Then she rises on her tiptoes to press another quick kiss to my lips.

"I should go," she says. "Have a good day, okay?"

"You too," I reply, grateful for the change of subject. "Text me when you're free later?"

"Definitely." Her smile returns, warm and genuine, as she grabs her keys and heads for the door.

I follow her out, walking her to the end of the path like the gentleman my mother raised me to be, despite growing up with three rowdy adoptive brothers. Lexie waves and rounds the corner, and then I'm alone with my thoughts.

Dangerous territory, that.

I lock up, and the walk back to my truck is short but gives me just enough time for Lexie's casual comment to take root in my mind. By the time I slide behind the wheel, I'm seeing interactions with my packmates in a whole new light.

Or am I just projecting, seeing things that aren't there because of this new omega biology screwing with my head?

And how the hell is all this going to work when I finally do go into heat? No matter how much I might want to, I know I can't avoid it forever.