Page 30 of Fourth Base with the Alpha

“I’m rusty,” I tell her.

“Nope,” she says, leaning her head back slightly against my chest.

Should I kiss her again? I want to kiss her again. But I’ve already kissed her twice out here in public and if I do it again, she’ll think I’m a creep, like every other alpha out here tonight who’s circling, waiting to pluck her from my arms.

The thought has a growl threatening to build in my throat and when someone taps me on the shoulder, I’m ready to almost snap their finger in half.

“Easy!” West laughs. “We were just coming to join you. But if you love birds want–”

“Oh, no.Acompáñanos1,” Isabella says, grabbing West’s omega by the hands and dragging her onto the floor.

In the next moment Layla’s there too and all three of them are swaying to the new song, rocking their hips and singing to the music.

“Fuck, isn’t that a pretty sight,” West mutters.

He hands me a bottle of beer and I take a long swig, unable to draw my eyes away from Isabella’s wriggling ass.

“She’s a really sweet girl, man. I’m genuinely happy for you.” West smacks me on the arm, and for once his words don’t irritate me. No, they gut me. Because yes she is sweet, but she isn’t mine.

Isabella catches us watching them and soon she’s dragging us onto the dancefloor and attempting to teach us all some complicated dance step that has the other women keeling over in fits of giggles.

We’re still dancing when the DJ announces the final song and the dance floor starts to empty.

“My feet hurt so much,” Isabella moans as the last song fades away. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to hobble out of here.” She pushes at my shoulder. “Go on, you go, get out of here. Save yourself, don’t worry about me. One of us has to make it out alive.”

I arch an eyebrow at her. “Take your shoes off, om– Cupcake.”

She screws up her face. “Eww, no the floor’s all sticky. I’d rather take my chances here overnight.”

I peer down at her as she wiggles her toes, grimacing in pain.

“In that case.” I reach down and scoop her up into my arms.

She squeals in that high-pitched manner that’s probably damaging my eardrums and pounds her fists against my chest.

“Hey!” she protests in jest. “You’re such a beast.”

“That I am.” I carry her through the empty ballroom, only a few members of the waiting staff left to see us pass. “It’s my viking blood. Why wait for a woman to hobble along behind you, when you can simply carry her away?”

“Should I be worried about your intentions, Mr Viking? Because you guys don’t exactly have very good reputations.”

I want to tell her that my intentions are not honorable, certainly my Goddamn thoughts aren’t when she’s at my mercy like this. But despite my so-called heritage, I’m not some raping and plundering warrior.

“Your honor is safe with me,señorita.”

She examines my face, her arms clasped around my neck. “Hmmm I think I believe you. You may look like a tiger but I think you have an inner pussycat, just dying to break free.”

“Nobody’s ever called me a pussycat, Cupcake.”

She yawns, snuggling against me as we reach the lobby.

“There’s always a first time for everything.”

I hesitate at the doors to the theater; a man with a broom eyes us from one side of the foyer and a drunk couple are squabbling in the center.

It’s late now and the crowds and journalists have probably dispersed. There’s always the danger someone’s still lurking out there with a phone or a camera though.

But isn’t that what we want? Someone to capture a moment like this? Have the world believe we are in love?