Page 13 of Therefore

Chapter Eleven

Trystan

I never should’ve napped in his bed. But the past few days had finally caught up to me. The bed was there and…it smelled right.

It smelled of him .

Even now, a few hours of sleep and another knot later, I felt safe here. Usually, when I stayed the night with a partner, I never got any sleep. My instincts would be screaming at me to get out, run.

I’d never felt so rested, yet my mind refused to calm. I still had a job to do, and Emerson had got in the way of that twice already. I was running out of time.

The alpha in question rumbled behind me. “Go back to sleep, love. I can hear you thinking.”

“What? No, you can’t,” I grumbled into the pillow.

“Calling me a liar? You’re mean in the mornings.” He chuckled, tightening his arm around my waist as his knot pulsed inside me.

Gasping at the sensation filling me, I pressed back against him.

We’d been locked together for the past hour—after I’d woken up needing an early morning dose of alpha—but I still couldn’t get enough of feeling this full.

It was incredible. Each pulse of his cock triggered waves of pleasure in me. Totally worth being sore for a day.

Eventually, Emerson’s knot deflated, and he pulled out of me, kissing up my neck. “I believe I promised you breakfast.”

I grinned, carefully rolling over to face him. “You definitely did. I need a shower first, though. You might be the right amount of sweaty to still be lickable, but I think you’d prefer I leak two knots worth of cum in the shower instead of on your bedsheets.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Emerson chuckled, taking my face in his hands and lightly kissing my lips. “There should be an unopened toothbrush under the sink. Help yourself to whatever you need, and I’ll use the guest shower.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I feel like you might want to work up to using the bathtub you were tied up in.”

“Aww, look who got on board the thoughtful train.”

My arse received a playful warning slap, and I rolled back over to watch the door as Emerson left for the guest bathroom. Fuck, I really hadn’t properly appreciated how sexy he was until now. His waist to shoulders ratio alone was insane. No wonder he’d made me pass out when we first met.

After an awkward run to the bathroom and one of the greatest showers of my life—I could seriously get used to rich-people plumbing—I dressed in yesterday’s clothes and headed towards the kitchen.

It was strange to feel so at home in Emerson’s penthouse when I’d only really spent time in the bedroom and bathrooms. Maybe it was the way his scent naturally filled the space.

It was homely, and my inner omega was relaxed here.

I didn’t feel an innate need to keep my guard up at all times.

Following the sound of sizzling and the smell of fried foods in the air, I found Emerson at the stove, already working on breakfast. It was the most casual I’d ever seen him—except for when he was naked—in sweatpants with a tight white t-shirt and damp hair.

Looking at him like this, I wasn’t totally sure which I preferred.

Nope. Still preferred naked.

My stomach rumbled loudly, snapping me out of my fantasies and announcing my presence.

Emerson chuckled. “You have a lot of trouble sneaking up on me, don’t you?”

“Apparently,” I grumbled, leaning around him to admire his cooking. “Wow, you’re going all out for breakfast. This a regular thing for you?”

“Usually only on weekends for myself, but for you…” He shrugged. “Whenever you want it.”

“Using my stomach to get into my pants is low. Also, for future reference, I prefer pancakes over waffles.”

“Noted. I’m nearly done, so sit down. There’s orange juice on the counter.” Emerson turned to me, looking me up and down curiously. “Did you change out of your office clothes before coming over yesterday?”

“Obviously. I needed a shower after leaving your office. Plus, I hate wearing stuffy shirts like that.” I sat on a barstool and took a big gulp of orange juice. “Were you hoping to see me dressed in your clothes or something?”

A light blush crept up his cheeks. Got him. “Definitely not against it. I like our scents mixing. It’s relaxing, somehow. Know what I mean?”

“Sort of,” I lied, strangely annoyed that we’d had the same thought process.

“It’s been years since I’ve experienced scents and stuff, so it’s kind of new to me right now.

” I took another sip of juice and made a mental note to take a suppressant after eating.

There were a few stashed in my wallet for emergencies.

“Bee nearly talked me out of coming here, actually. They did say you were very professional for the ten minutes you bothered to sit in the meeting with them, though.”

Emerson cast me a side-eyed glance before turning his attention back to the eggs. “I decided that my colleague would be more appropriate for the case they brought to us.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” I nodded with mock-understanding. “And I’m sure that thought had nothing to do with someone creeping around your office at the time?”

“Of course not. I’m a professional.” He waved away the accusation with a spatula. “It was mere coincidence that leaving your friend in my colleague’s capable hands allowed me the opportunity to return to other pressing matters.”

“You’re such a lawyer.”

Reaching into the cupboards, Emerson started pulling out plates and cutlery. “Speaking of, do you want to discuss the elephant in the room while we eat or after?”

I shrugged. May as well get it over with. “Why wait? At least if we’re eating, you can’t seduce me for information again.”

His lips quirked in a half smirk as he plated the food. “You have such little faith in me.”

Not true. I knew, deep down, that if anyone could make a full English breakfast sexy enough for me to start spilling secrets, it was Emerson. But the longer I denied it, the longer I could avoid it.

Once he sat next to me, Emerson didn’t waste time getting started. “You said before that you never meet your clients, but I assume you’re aware of the case your target relates to, yes?”

“I know enough to find my target, but I never look up extra details. It makes it easier to get the job done without getting distracted.”

“Makes it easier to work for criminals, you mean?”

My jaw ticked. “I know you don’t approve, but has it ever occurred to you that I enjoy what I do?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Stealing?”

“Sneaking in unseen, or better yet, in plain fucking sight,” I explained, sitting back in my chair. “Getting what my client wants without anyone knowing I was ever there. Every job is its own puzzle that I have to solve.”

A grin spread across my face, and I thought back to when I first started thieving as a kid. A dare that turned into a hobby, then a method of survival. But even through those transitions, I still felt the same rush with each job.

Emerson watched me with a sad half smile. I wasn’t sure exactly how much Emerson knew of my past, but I, at least, wanted him to know who I was in the present, even if he didn’t approve of it.

After a moment, I added, “Not to mention I’m really good at it.”

He chuckled, lightening the mood. “I’m sure you are, despite the string of bad luck recently.”

“I put that down to a particularly annoying target rather than an issue of my own skill.”

“Spoken like a lawyer.”

We ate in silence for a minute. I don’t think either of us really wanted to have this conversation. But it wasn’t long until not even bacon could distract me from the tension anymore.

“I know I don’t have a moral leg to stand on, Emerson. It just isn’t as simple as good and bad—”

“Miranda Fisher sold omegas .” Emerson stared me down, the intensity of his eyes burning into me.

“The diary you’ve been attempting to steal is evidence in the case against her, further proof of where she planned to meet and deal in human lives.

For fuck’s sake, Trystan, if you hadn’t been hiding your status, you… ”

“I’d be one of her victims,” I finished for him, my jaw clenching. “Why do you think I’ve been taking suppressants for over a decade? I’m well aware of the dangers my status brings.”

He turned on the barstool to face me and placed a hand on my knee, squeezing gently. “So work with me to bring whoever hired you to justice.”

I shook my head. “My hands are tied here, Emerson. I can probably buy you an extra day or two with the diary, if that’ll help your case, but I need you to stay out of my way. This is something I have to do.”

He scoffed. “Even though you know you can do something to help?”

“It wouldn’t do any good!” I ran a hand through my hair, pulling at the strands before huffing out a breath. “One way or another, that book will be delivered to my client. If I’m not the one to retrieve it for them, that’ll mean Roman doesn’t have a use for me anymore.”

Emerson stared at me with fierce determination in his pale eyes, his hand holding my knee like a lifeline. “I can keep you safe, Trystan. You have to trust me.”

I almost believed him. The worst part was that I desperately wanted to do just that. I ached to lean into my omega instincts and depend on my alpha. Let him take control of the situation and do what was best for me. Be the one who was protected for a change.

Instead, I was trapped. Forced to make the worst decision, knowing what it would do. The decision that would prove him right about me and make him hate me. Still, it was the choice that would keep us both breathing at the end of it. That had to be worth something.