Page 30 of Knottily Ever After (Crescent Lake Cozy Omegaverse #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ben

I was wrapping up the finishing touches on Violet’s tattoo design at my desk when there was a light rapping on my door.

Right on time.

I hop up and open it to find a smiling Violet looking up at me. Then her lips form an O, and her eyes widen as she leans in close to my face, rolling onto her toes to do so.

“Wow,” she breathes.

And I’m confused.

“What’s ‘wow’?”

She points at my face. “Glasses.”

Oh, shit. I forgot.

I swipe them from my face as she says, “Nonono!” her hands waving in the air.

I freeze, frames still in hand, and blink down at her.

“They’re super hot,” she whispers, looking awestruck.

Doubtful, I narrow my gaze on her and slide my thick black frames back onto my nose.

I’ve been farsighted since I was a kid, always needed reading glasses. Never heard the end of it in school.

But the look on Violet’s face, and the increase of her beautiful scent, tells me she isn’t lying. She likes my glasses.

Well, shit.

I step aside and let her into my room, which she looks around at a bit stiffly. Her breathing is shallow, which makes me question what’s going on with her. I watch her movements instead, gauging each one.

“I have my draft ready for you,” I say as I step around her and go to my desk, where I take the drawing pad and hand it to her. “Any changes you want, let me—”

“Oh my gods, it’s perfect!”

My brows rise in surprise, but also relief.

The simple design of four ornate crescent moons surrounded by filigree, all in a crescent shape to follow the line of her hip, was something I worked hard on for days, and fell in love with myself.

It represents Crescent Lake, just as she had asked, but the four crescents really symbolize our pack.

Violet does that thing again, hugging me tight around the middle because she’s so much shorter than me. And the way I adore having her body wrapped around mine should be illegal.

When she takes a deep inhale of my chest and shudders, I stiffen, body and cock. She sighs a hot breath through my shirt, slightly rubs her belly against my hardening dick with a moan.

I… can’t breathe. If I inhale her scent now, I will be done for. But, if I don’t, I’ll probably pass out.

“Uh, Violet…”

She jumps at the sound of my voice, her cheeks pink, fingers to her lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t apologize.” My voice is strained.

She swallows hard, steps back, voice careful as she returns my sketchbook to me. “I... wanted to ask you about something, if it’s okay?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“The other day, you were very sad when you came home.” Her brows draw, concern in her eyes that squeezes my heart. “Will you tell me why?”

My lips purse briefly, and I gesture for her to sit on the bed. As she does, I grab the chair at my desk and sit, facing her.

Where the fuck do I start? What’s too much?

“Take your time.” She says it with such gentle care, I find myself rubbing my sternum with my palm.

“So, I’m thirty now.” Odd way to start, but okay…

Violet stifles a smile.

“What?”

A little giggle. “You’re younger than me.”

My brow rises. “Does that matter to you?”

“Not at all.” She’s serious. “Does it matter to you?”

“Not at all,” I parrot, and she grins.

“I’m thirty-four,” she says dramatically. “Change your mind?”

A small smile plays on my lips. “Only four years? Nah.”

Now, she looks offended. “Are you saying you thought I was older than that?”

My grin crooks. “Even a year older than me makes you a cougar in my book.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she bursts into laughter. Her eyes shut tight, her body leans back with the force of her ha!, and all I can do is hang on every movement, warmth circulating through my body.

When she sits up straight again, she looks down, head shaking side to side. When she looks back up at me, the laughter is still in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I couldn’t resist.”

“You still have nothing to apologize for,” I assure her.

“So, you were saying, Mister Thirty-Year-Old?”

“Right.” I rub the side of my face with my palm.

“I was born here in Crescent Lake,” I tell her.

“I was twelve when my little brother, Adam, was born. It was the four of us for six years after that, until after I graduated high school and I went to UCLA.” My heart does that spasm I feel every time I think of it.

“When I came home during a break two years in, I found out my mom was sick.”

Violet’s brows rise, her lips part. “Oh, Ben…”

“I didn’t want to go back to school.” The memory draws an angry tone into my voice.

“I told my parents that I was going to stay and help them. But they really wanted me to graduate. Mom said that was the most important thing to her, and that she’d be fine.

” I breathe deep, trying to find calm, and instead, find Violet’s spring wildflower scent, and keep it in my lungs a moment.

“I graduated. Dad and Adam were there, Mom wasn’t.

” Pain, deep and searing, right down my sternum, and I fist my shirt there.

“We were driving back home together when we got the call.”

Violet’s fingers press to her lips, sorrow in those emerald eyes. And I hate that I’ve made her sad. But, selfishly, I hope that telling her this story will ease some of my pain.

“Mom died before we made it back,” I whisper.

“She was the cornerstone of our family. The loving, creative Omega.” I wince.

“We all were a wreck, but my dad was the worst. Adam was ten when Mom passed. I was twenty-two and a jobless BA grad with a minor in art history.” My head shakes at the memory.

“And my dad just stopped working. He’d sit in the living room or lay in his bed, like he was catatonic.

No drugs, no alcohol, just…” Squeeze in my chest. “He just gave up. Couldn’t live without Mom. Decided not to a year later.”

Violet remains calm, poised, reaches her hand out to me. When I take it, she tugs, and I’m pulled to sit beside her. She squeezes my hand.

“I was so pissed off, Violet,” I sigh. “I’d already gotten the job at Lloyd’s by then, but I couldn’t take care of Adam by myself, and we had no other family.

So, we discussed it, him and I, because I always treated him like a man, even at eleven.

And together, we decided he would go to a boarding school and come home every summer break. ”

“He must have done really well there, earning a scholarship.” Violet’s voice is soft, and she squeezes my hand again.

“Yeah,” I say. “He’s a really smart kid, Violet. I couldn’t be prouder of him. And I know Mom would be so proud.” I huff. “Even Dad would have been proud. Adam’s pursuing something more aligned with business.”

“Was your dad a businessman?”

I nod. “Yeah. We’d lived a really comfortable life on the east end of Crescent Lake, which is the more suburban part with good-sized houses.

Dad had been the breadwinner, though, and I wasn’t making nearly enough money to keep that house up.

It was paid off, but needed repairs, and the taxes were too much for me at the time.

And nearly all of Mom’s life insurance went to Adam’s schooling.

So, again, I talked to Adam and asked what he thought.

We decided to sell the house and split the money.

His half went into a trust fund for when he turns twenty-five.

” I have to laugh, head shaking. “The age was his idea. There didn’t even need to be a discussion about it.

” A deep breath. “And I was just about to sign the lease on an apartment close to Lloyd’s, when I met Vaughn and Quinn.

The way we clicked immediately, it was supernatural.

And we just knew. Even though both Quinn and I came from homes without packs. We just knew we were pack brothers.”

Violet has a small smile on her face now. “So, what did you do?” she coaxes.

My laugh is louder than I meant it. “I wound up moving in here,” I gesture around the room, “and that was about six years ago.”

“Wow,” she breathes, then sobers. “So, you were thinking of your parents the other day?”

I sigh. “In a way. Really, I was sad for the loss of a complete family, but then I saw you with my brothers, and it was just…” I swallow. “Overwhelming. Like, abnormally so.”

“Oh, Ben.” She turns on the bed and wraps her arms around my chest. There’s another waft of her perfume, and I still in her grasp at the same time she does. Then she buries her face in my shirt, inhaling deep. I silence a moan, lean back a bit, zipper becoming a threat.

“I have a confession,” she says, voice huskier than normal. Her perfume is all I can smell, that wildflower scent fogging my brain.

“Oh yeah?” I barely recognize my voice.

“Do you remember that day you came home and I told you I’d spilled something outside your door?”

Do I?

Oh, right. That chemical cleaner on the floor in the hall. When I freaked out.

It feels so far away now as I nod absently in confirmation.

“Well, I didn’t spill anything. Not like a drink or something.” She leans back to look up at my face.

Confusion mars my haze, and I tilt my head at her in question, brows furrowing.

“It was the morning after Quinn and I…” she trails off, swallows. She doesn’t need to continue. “The next morning, I realized my senses were stronger than before. I wanted to see how I reacted to all of your scents.”

My breath catches, lips part as I take air into my lungs through my mouth, trying to regain a level of control.

“I went to Quinn’s room first, because I already knew, you know? How I’d react to his scent.” She shifts on the bed. “Then I went to Vaughn’s room, and my knees gave out when I scented him.”

I am powerless.

“I crawled to your room, Ben. Hands and knees. I had to scent you in that hazed state.” She leans closer. “And do you know what happened? Why I had to clean the floor?”

I don’t want to guess. Don’t want to assume. I want her to tell me.

My head shakes side-to-side silently, no.

A lip nibble. “As soon as I smelled you, slick poured from my pussy. All over the floor.”

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe…

“I was so hot, so needy, I ran to my room and fucked myself. Again and again, Ben.” Her words are like air, her body so close her tits brush my arm.

I can’t help the growl that builds inside my chest. This beastly desire for my Omega, to fuck and claim and mark her. To please her. To feel her body against mine, flesh to flesh, to feast on her slick, bathe in her scent.

She places her hand on my sternum, steady and strong. “I want you, Ben. I need you.”