Emily
“Ugh. Ugh. Ugh .” I roll over to grab my ringing phone, fumbling with the buttons as I try to pry my eyes open. “Hello?”
“Are you still sleeping?” Derek croaks in my ear, sounding concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Hold on. I need to pee.” It’s an overshare, but as I haul myself upright, I’m too busy staggering through the obstacle course of Jacob’s toys to think up a better cover story. Plus, I ache all over, and now that I’m no longer glued to the sticky couch, my skin feels hot and itchy. When I reach the bathroom, I wave out the lingering shower steam and peer at myself in the mirror. “Ugh. I look like I slept under a bush. On a highway. Next to roadkill.”
Derek’s laugh has a crackling edge that makes me wince. “I hope I didn’t give you this cold, Em. It’s really kicking my butt.”
“Our first couple’s gift,” I hum, digging my toothbrush out of the clutter on the sink.
“I hope I can do better than that.” He pauses to cough into a tissue, the grinding in his chest painful to hear. It’s clearly a chicken noodle soup with dumplings kind of cold and I say, “I’m coming over tonight, even if I have to wear a HAZMAT suit.”
He waits while I brush, rinse, and spit, but that itchy feeling under my skin is just getting worse. “Derek, I really need a shower. Can I call you on the way to work?”
“So, you’re going back? It was a good day, then?”
Is that how I’d describe it? Exciting, stressful, confusing, surprising… I’d love to be able to tell him all about it in a few easy words, but it’s definitely a conversation I need to have face-to-face. “A lot happened. But I had a coffee break with Clark, and he told me all about his amazing pack. He sounds really happy.”
“That’s great.” There’s a clear note of relief in his voice, and I smile as I prop the phone on the counter and strip off my PJs. It’s nice having him check in with me, even if our physical relationship is under quarantine right now. “I wasn’t sure what you were walking into, to be honest, so I’m glad it was just an ordinary workday.”
I pause, wincing as I peel away my sleep shorts. I didn’t want to wake the rest of the house by showering when I got in, and I realise I’m still sticky from last night.
When I flung myself in an alpha’s lap and dry-humped him until I nearly came…
“Um, Derek, I really need to go.”
“Sure, Em. Stay in touch, okay? And take some vitamins, just in case.”
I mumble something reassuring before ending the call, then roll my sleep shorts into a tight ball and take a hesitant sniff. I rear back, staring at the crumpled fabric. Shit. They smell like I spritzed myself with eau de orgy… I’m not sure if they’re redeemable, but I shove them into the bottom of the hamper, making a mental note to fish them out and wash them before my mum decides it’s laundry day.
I ease into the shower, thankful for once that the water pressure is almost non-existent as it patters on my sensitive skin. Grabbing the body wash off the shelf, I huff in frustration to find it’s empty. We have a system that when we’re running low on something, we write it on the kitchen chalkboard, only sometimes the funds aren’t there before the chalk wears off. Such is the life of living paycheck to paycheck.
With a sigh, I pry the last sliver of soap off the dish and try to work it into a lather. First thing I’m going to splurge on when I get paid is a set of fancy bath products, like the ones at Derek’s. Although, by then, I’ll probably have moved in with him, so maybe I’ll just put them in a gift basket for Dee and Mum.
I shiver as I run the meagre soap over my chest, my nipples pebbling under my palms. I’ve always been curvy, but as I cup my breasts, they feel heavier, the skin somehow both softer and tighter. As I brush my nipples with my thumbs, a bolt of awareness shoots down my spine, and I bite back a moan at the way it settles between my legs.
What the hell?
Is this withdrawal symptoms from missing Derek, or did Creed put me under a spell?
Memories of last night fill my mind, and I shift on my feet, my head tipping back under the spray.
Thick thighs, eyes as black as onyx, and hands that stroke over my hips like they’re cupping something precious…
A moan slips from my lips as I circle both breasts, lightly pinching my nipples. They’re so sensitive, I hiss at the contact, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I tease them until they’re throbbing, then slip a hand down my belly and between my legs. I’m tingling all over, but as I slide a finger inside my folds, it’s like I’ve touched an electric wire. My thighs clench, a rush of images playing through my mind. Derek is there, on his knees for me like he was in the library, but strong arms hold me upright, while a soft mouth plunders mine. I can smell honey and musk, cinnamon and sandalwood. When I close my eyes, the soft lips suck on my aching nipples, while a warm tongue pushes into my wet heat. I imagine it’s Creed right behind me, his hands gripping my hips. I can feel his hard cock against my lower back, and when I rock against him, I’m so warm and open he nearly slides in…
My thumb barely touches my clit before lightning zaps up my spine and I’m gasping through a wild climax.
I cling to the shower curtain, my thighs shaking with the aftershocks.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Since dating Derek, I’ve had a lot of fun times in the shower, but never alone, and always at his place. Not that my boyfriend was the only one on my mind this time. I get the attraction of Creed – of his whole pack, if I’m being honest – but getting off to fantasies about them is insane. Not only are they work colleagues, but there’s Soren to consider. How would he feel if he knew I was lusting after his mate? Their relationship is complicated enough without me trying to horn my way in. Do I seriously need to remind my libido that I’m there to help him heal , not to drive him further up his depressing, glass walls?
Flushing with shame, I snatch my sister’s paramedic-issue descenter off the shelf and pour out a generous handful. Wincing at the sterile scent, I quickly rub it all over, using the last of the tepid water to rinse myself off. When I give a cautious sniff, all I can smell is a chalky bleach odour and the faintest hint of mint toothpaste.
Satisfied, I climb out, but as I pat myself dry, I hear the radio click on in my sister’s room. The paper-thin walls do little to soundproof the apartment, and I almost slip on the wet tile as the breakfast announcer starts the 9 a.m. news bulletin.
“Shit!” Am I really already an hour late for work? I swipe my phone and stare in horror at the screen. How the hell did I sleep through the chaos known as the Nash family’s morning routine?
Muttering curses under my breath, I dash into my mum’s room, only to find her bed empty and a cold cup of tea on her nightstand. I currently share her wardrobe, and as I rake through her clothes, I silently beg for a professional outfit to leap out at me. Since my mum has never worked a day in her life, I have to settle for a pair of black trousers. They’re tight over the hips and thighs, but beggars definitely can’t be choosers, and I snatch the nearest shirt off its hanger. It’s pink and silky, with a deep V neckline and pearl buttons, and I scoff as I try to jam it back into the packed wardrobe.
Only… It really is soft. And the colour is so pretty…
I slip it on, then turn and study my reflection in Mum’s full-length mirror. My cheeks are flushed from the shower, and with my hair starting to curl on my shoulders, I can’t tell if the contrast of deep red and delicate pink is attractive or alarming. Do I look like an overcooked sausage coming out of its skin, or a woman who just pleasured herself in the shower and then wrapped herself in silk? All I know for certain is that the way the fabric clings to my curves makes me tingle all over.
Ah, screw it. It might not win any awards for office attire, but since I’ll probably be fired for tardiness, does it really matter what I wear as they march me out the door?
Twisting my damp hair into a makeshift bun, I hurry back to the living room in search of my purse. It’s not slung across the coffee table, like usual, and another glance at my phone has me cursing at the time. Forget about buying new body wash, I’m going to have to raid my emergency funds for an Uber…
I don’t know if I smell him or hear him first, that low, hypnotic rumble cloaked in the scent of pure wolf. Crossing the room, I brace myself as I step into the kitchen, but it’s still a shock to see my sister sitting across the table from Finn Visser.
They’re drinking tea, and my nephew is sitting between them, gazing up at my boss like he hung the moon.
“Hi, everyone.” There’s no disguising the nervous edge to my voice, so I force a cheery smile. “What’s going on? Are we having brunch?”
“No school today, Aunt Em!”
“It’s a teacher development day,” Claudia says in a clipped tone, her fingers drumming on mum’s linen tablecloth, “so Jacob’s home with me.”
“Oh. Right.” I give my nephew a smile, but it’s very hard not to fidget under Finn’s stare. It’s like having a wild animal stalk you into a corner, only to then rub against your legs, and I move restlessly from foot to foot. “And mum? Is she about?”
“Spa day with Mrs. Evans.”
“Right.” She’s a neighbor who does budget manicures. Mum says she’s a terrible gossip, but she always has a bottle of wine in the fridge, and you can hear them cackling like kookaburras once the chardonnay starts flowing. “Okay. Well, I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m ready now…”
“No apology needed,” Finn says in that wolfy rumble, his grey eyes tilting my way. All I can think of is soft, velvety fur , and I jump a little when he adds, “You had a late night.”
“I did…” He doesn’t sound like he’s annoyed, but is there something else in his gaze? Does he know what I did with Creed when he dropped me home? I can feel my cheeks burning, which are probably clashing horrifically with the pink blouse… Do I have time to nip away and change? “Um. We should probably get going.”
“Are you going in the Batman car, Aunty Em?”
I blink at Jacob, but Claudia is staring at Finn with her unimpressed eyes. “We were coming back from the park when Mr. Visser pulled up. What kind of car is that again?” My sister has forgotten more about cars than I’ve learned about bees, so I’m not surprised when she supplies the answer herself. “A special edition Lambo, right? What does something like that retail for?”
“Stupid money,” Finn admits. “I bought it for the Human-Machine Interface.”
“I can see how that would work for you,” Dee murmurs as I shuffle my feet, the itch roaring back under my skin. I can almost taste the pheromones bouncing across the table between them, and I squirm with relief when Jacob pipes up, “Can I go in the Lambo, too?”
“It’s a workday for grownups, Jake,” my sister replies, steering him back to his juice box and crackers. “If Aunt Em’s job pans out, maybe you can have a ride another time.”
Jacob has heard that enough to know his chances aren’t good and his little face drops in disappointment.
“What about helicopters?”
Jacob’s eyes grow as wide as twin moons as he looks up at Finn. “Do you have a chopper? Like in the movies?”
“Mmmm.” My boss smiles at me, as shocking and fleeting as a summer lightning storm. “Your aunt’s not the only one who likes things with wings.”
“Choppers have rotors , not wings.” Jacob’s face falls again. “Batman would know that.”
“Go play in the living room, Jake,” Claudia says quickly, then casts me a tight look. “I need to talk to you tonight. Will you be home late again?”
I gulp and study my sister’s face, but it’s like trying to decipher stone. “I have to take Derek some soup, but I'll be quick.”
Claudia suddenly pulls me into a one-arm hug, her mouth close to my ear. “If you need me to stop this, I’ll try.”
“Don’t worry.” I whisper back, giving her shoulder an awkward pat. “I’m fine.”
“Then why do you smell like you fell into a bleach bottle?”
I pull away with a grimace, avoiding her eyes as I snag my purse from the back of her chair. Finn is perfectly polite as he thanks her for the tea, but my sister watches us leave with a scowl. I hurry down the stairs, so conscious of Finn on my heels that I miss a step. I throw out a hand to catch the railing, and when I’m encircled in a strong arm, the sound that comes out of me could only be called a whimper.
“ Calm .” It’s a purr in my ear, as warm and comforting as the chest I’m leaning against. “I've got you.”
“Sorry.” I’m still clinging to him, but he doesn’t seem to care as he steers us out of the building and through the scrap of front garden. The sun feels extra bright, but I shiver as he opens the creaky gate. I lift a hand to my eyes, but he’s already there, shielding my face where it’s nestled against his chest. “I didn't sleep well,” I mumble.
“You’ll feel better soon.”
I’m sure I will, especially if he keeps purring in my ear like that.
No, that’s the wrong way to think. This is my boss . And an off-the-charts powerful alpha. I don’t cling to men like this, or whimper when they pull away to get their car keys out of their pocket…
“Just a few more steps.”
God, he sounds like Dee trying to get Jacob to walk to the bus stop.
“I just need a coffee, and I’ll bounce right back.” I try to inject some enthusiasm into my voice, but when we reach the verge, my stomach dips as I take in the luxury sportscar. Jacob is right, it belongs in the realm of superheroes with its sweeping side panels and sharp rear wings. It’s beautiful – like a hornet on shiny chrome wheels – but it’s also too small to be hiding a hulking alpha.
“No Creed?” I realise how forlorn I sound, and rush to add, “It’s just, he likes to drive, doesn’t he?”
“He does. And he wanted to be here, believe me.”
I just nod as the doors open – unfurling smoothly into the air – and Finn places me on the seat. It’s like sitting at the control deck of a space shuttle and I wish I was clear-headed enough to enjoy it. Maybe if Jacob gets his ride, I can have another turn, too.
“Your sister hasn’t heard from her packmate?”
I jerk out of my daze, squinting at Finn in the driver’s seat. “She talked about Abel?”
He shakes his head. We’re already moving, but it’s such a smooth ride, it feels like we’re floating over clouds. “I looked her up. I was curious to see what the army knew.”
“And?”
“Not a lot. He’s still classified as Absent Without Leave. But I have connections I can use. See what the real story is, if you think it would help your sister move on.”
I blink at him, trying to picture what that would look like. Claudia is so deeply embedded in her grief, I’m not sure if she’s even thought about life beyond her broken pack. “If you found something, could you tell me first? I would hate for her to be hurt all over again.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” I’m not sure when I took his hand, but he gives it a squeeze and I relax back into the seat. It really is like floating, and it takes a lot of effort to turn my head to watch him. He’s wearing black jeans and a hoodie, a faded logo on the front. If it wasn’t for his beautiful face and obvious dominance, he’d probably be mistaken for a car jacker. “Who are you, Finn Visser?”
He slants me a glance. “I’ve wondered the same thing about you, Nash.”
“Seriously? I’m very boring.” I know I’m staring at his lips but can’t make myself look away. He’s fascinating when he’s just staring through the windscreen, but I’m pretty sure I’ll say anything for another of those lightning-fast smiles. “I went into a pet shop and asked for twelve bees. The shopkeeper counted out thirteen and handed them over. I told him he gave me one too many, but he just shook his head and said, ‘That last one is a freebie.’”
Finn’s lashes flutter, soft as wings, and then his mouth crooks up. “That joke’s definitely a keeper.”
I laugh, and as cinnamon and cedar swirls around me, I pinch my wrist to make sure this is real. Finn is still smiling, but something moves in his eyes as he watches me. Not lightning but a hurricane, stormy black sliding over the muted grey, while the car fills with the scent of ash and hot metal.
I know that scent, and I cringe away, but he grabs my wrist, his eyes burning into mine. “, did your walking corpse of an ex do this to you?”