Page 146 of The Forgotten

When I was with Storm, I was too mad and anxious to really focus on anything but getting to work. I don’t have anything to distract me now, and I am perfuming like crazy. Slick is beginning to destroy my panties too.

I spent my entire shift trying to forget about these three alphas, and fate is shitting all over that.

The ride is both too short and too long once they pull into a restaurant that is open early for breakfast. Inhaling deeply, I swear I can smell the pancakes already, but there’s an undertone of leather and raspberries. It’s such an odd combination.

Lore is full of commands, deep grumbles, and action. I witnessed that first hand on the side of the highway, but I also noticed the way that he kept me from getting a cum shower from his men. That’s not to say that I’m going to accept that as a favor, because I doubt it was.

I just don’t understand what his deal is.

As soon as we’re sitting at the table, I gaze at them and ask exactly that. “Why won’t you just let me go? I don’t get it. I don’t fit into your lives.”

“You don’t have to fit anywhere because you’re fucking perfect,” Lore says almost absently. His eyes are on the menu, but his lips are hiding a smile. Ugh.

“You know?—”

“Yes, I do know what you mean,” he interrupts me. “How wet are your panties, baby?”

The waitress keeps me from snapping at him, and I find that I’m starving. I order pancakes, eggs, sausage and toast before also adding a cup of coffee. I’m going to need caffeine for this conversation or I’ll fall asleep against Storm’s shoulder.

Groaning, I drop my head exactly where I just threatened to. His scent of nutmeg and lavender do their best to relax me, and it’s difficult not to just melt into him.

“These night shifts are brutal,” he mutters, his bare fingers running through my hair. “Even the doctor thinks you’re killing yourself.”

“It’s short term,” I mutter, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Excuse me.”

I almost rip my own hair out where it's tangled in Storm’s fingers but I need to move. I blame my exhaustion on the warmth behind my eyes as I rush to the restroom to hide. There’s no one inside as I slam my back against the wall and close my eyes. My breaths get faster and faster, and I whine as I cover my face.

These anxiety attacks have been happening more rather than tapering off.

The bathroom door slams open and I shriek, dropping my hands as I watch Lore stalk inside and lock the door behind him.

“Why are you following me?” I ask, my voice cracking sharply.

“Because you’re stubborn,” he growls, crowding into my space. His hands cup my face as he drags his fingers through my tears, his blue eyes full of worry. “What does burning yourself out accomplish? We’re your mates, you should let us help you.”

“Ha. You have a great track record there. Why would I not trust you?” I snort. “No, I must be fucking crazy!”

“Shh, I didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters. “Don’t twist my words into something else, Princess.”

“Why do you call me that?” I sniff. Tears fall faster than the next, and Lore sighs.

“You have all this gorgeous hair, you remind me of one of those Disney princesses. Except, you don’t dress or act like one, so I guess it makes me want to spoil you like one,” he finally says.

My lips part in surprise, and Lore takes advantage of it by kissing me. His lips are soft and firm, and I find myself lifting onto my toes for more. Groaning, he deepens the kiss until his tongue is swiping across mine as he swallows my moans.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he rasps, his hand sliding under my long sleeved top to squeeze my breast. “I’m going to ask you again, and I will be very unhappy if you lie to me. How soaked are your panties after riding on the back of my bike?”

For a split second, I consider lying, but he pinches my nipple in warning. Whimpering, I writhe against the wall as I gasp, “They’re fucking destroyed. I think it’s just your bike. Anyone would get wet on the back of it.”

“Princess, that’s a partial lie,” he murmurs. “You’re the only one who’s ever been on the back of my bike.”

“What?” I breathe, whining as he shoves up my shirt and bra to begin sucking on my breasts.

“I need you to get on my level, Princess,” he says. “Fuck, I need to clean up your pussy. I don’t want anyone else to smell what’s mine.”

My eyes widen as I lick my lips tentatively. “What if I don’t believe I’m yours?”

“You will eventually,” he says, his hands moving to the button of my pants. “The only tears you should have are when you come around my cock or you’re choking on it. If there’s any other reason, that’s a conversation I want you to trust me with.”