Chapter 32
Soft, pillowy lips press to mine, and it’s like the world suddenly feels right. The pressure on my shoulders lifts the tiniest bit, relieved by her energetic response to a request she should deny.
I cave to the instincts writhing inside of me. One hand slips to the back of her neck, pulling her tighter against me. My tongue licks across her lips before dipping inside, savoring the faint taste of her mixed with the remnants of her afternoon coffee.
From the moment I walked into her apartment last May, I knew she would be mine. It is only my trauma and fear that have kept me from diving in headfirst.
Neither of us is ready to claim the other. We need time to grow together and rebuild our frayed trust. Baby steps will lead us there. Dates, honesty, small moments of intimacy. Growth takes time, patience.
The scrape of Bea’s nails along my scalp has a groan rattling up my chest. I’ve been hard ever since the elevator doors opened and I saw her. The peachy, pleated jumpsuit she wore to work clings to her hips and ass in the most delightful way.
Bea gasps, and I pull back, pressing our foreheads together so our breath mingles. Drowning in her midnight blue eyes is my favorite hobby. Here, trapped beneath her waves, the voices crowding my head are quiet.
“I’m yours whenever you are ready,” she whispers against my lips.
I swallow thickly and nod, letting her slip her hand back in mine and pull me to my feet. Tethered to her calm, I could float in eternity so long as she was by my side. I don’t know how I didn’t realize the effect she has on me sooner.
Well, that’s not true. Stubbornness. That’s what led us here. My inability to see what is right in front of me, even when everyone else was pointing it out.
“I’m sorry. For pushing you away. For running instead of facing our connection. I’ve wronged you. Made you doubt my intentions. All things I will make up for. I promise.” I dig into my jacket and pull out the small stuffed axolotl I picked out for her.
She beams, holding it against her chest. Her hand wraps in mine, and she walks us back to the main part of the park where the food trucks are. A teasing smile tilts her lips when she glances back at me over her shoulder. “You can’t take me on a date without feeding me.”
We wait in line quietly discussing what we want to order.
A chilly breeze blows through the park. She huddles into herself, pulling her sweater tighter around her chest, so I step forward, pressing my chest to her back and bundling her into my arms. Her body fits perfectly against mine.
Her head rests on my shoulder when I wrap my arms around her.
I take advantage of our closeness and allow myself to scent mark her, stroking my jaw against hers. Delight blazes in her eyes, teeth digging into her bottom lip. My fingers free the abused flesh before we step up to the counter, enjoying the way she shudders against me.
Tonight, we can enjoy the comfort we find in each other. Tomorrow, when the doubt seeps in, that’s when the real work begins.
Time flies in easy conversation and incredible food. Soon, the sun is well below the horizon. The sky above us a dark cloud obscured by the blinding lights of New York City. I’m reluctant to take Bea home. Unwilling to burst this bubble.
“Are you moving into Shiloh’s?” she asks, glancing up at me from beneath long lashes.
Grinding my teeth, I try to answer her without sounding like an asshole. My reaction is answer enough, and I watch as she deflates, becoming guarded against me again.
“Eventually, I will,” I rush out, but the damage has already been done.
Bea stands, gathering her trash and walking it to a nearby can. I trudge along behind her, shoving my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching for her.
Outside my Jeep, I crowd her against the passenger door. Careful not to touch her, so she knows my words aren’t a result of the electrifying pull between us.
“I meant every word I said tonight, brat, but I’m not ready to live with you. Knowing you were in the same house, only rooms away, would test my self-control in a way I’m not ready for. If I snapped and went into a rut and bonded you, we would both regret it.”
Her lips pinch tight, turning down at the corners into a frown. I know my reluctance still hurts her. Amplifies her doubts. All I can do is prove myself to her. To show up every day and put in the work to fix both our relationship and myself.
“One phone call, and I’ll be there if you need me. Please give me the time to overcome my fear of hurting you.” My voice cracks, eyes begging her for this moment of faith in me. When she relents, body melting against the door, I breathe a soft sigh of relief.
“Alright. I understand why you are concerned. Being around you and not wearing your mark… It’s difficult. I’ll try to be patient. Though I cannot make any promises after my heat hits.”
The thought of Bea in heat has fire flickering through my blood. So pliant, begging for our knots and cum.
Fuck, I need to get her home before I bend her over the seat and fuck her right here.
Reaching beside her, I pop the door open. She ducks under my arm and clambers inside, letting me step up to buckle her in.
In the driver’s seat, I turn the heat to full blast and let it warm up. Traffic isn’t nearly as bad on the way back to Starburgh, but it still takes a while. I give her control of the radio and spend the drive smothering a smile as she sings along to every song in Candy Courage’s discography.
Moments like this, where she is unencumbered and utterly herself, are the ones that test my control the most. How can I hold back when she’s so damn perfect?
When we pull up to the curb outside her apartment, Creed and Ridley meet us on the sidewalk. They sweep her into their arms, kissing her senseless and smothering her in their scents. I roll my eyes and flip them both off behind her back. Jackasses.
“Porter needs you in his office.” I glance up from the cot I am napping on to see a recruit nervously standing in the doorway.
I may have gained a reputation for being an unbearable asshole since I started working out of the FCDA building.
Not that their opinions are anything new.
People around me have felt the same for most of my adult life.
I suppose if the shoe fits…
“Thanks.”
He scurries away, leaving me to head upstairs to see what the director of the FCDA needs. Hopefully, he has a new lead on Marcus’ whereabouts. After he left that threat on Bea’s porch, Creed and I tore all of his hideouts apart, but, like the rat he is, he evaded us.
Without knocking, I push open Porter’s door. Creed is already inside, as are Donovan and Dromir. I greet the former with a polite nod, then glare at the latter. I still haven’t forgiven him for convincing my former charge, Omen, to face her father when she was already on death’s doorstep.
“Porter.”
“Ah, Ferguson. Good. Let’s dive in. We received word from the Stoneward Detention Center that Peter Harrison was found dead in his holding cell at one o’clock this morning. Early reports are claiming natural causes, but we won’t know more until the coroner has finished their examination.”
“Motherfucker,” I curse. There is no way that coward took his own life. He valued his well-being above almost everything else.
“Who do we suspect was actually behind his death?” Creed asks, fists clenched, where his arms crossed over his chest.
Harrison was a healthy, middle-aged Beta who knew too much about the anti-designation and breeding rings plaguing our country not to have a target on his back. The question now is who would have him taken out, and what they were preventing him from revealing?
“Creed, I know you’re on desk and training duty, but I would like to pull you in on this. You and Ferguson can head up to Stoneward today and put boots on the ground. Someone at that facility knows something. Find them and uncover the truth before it gets buried any further.”
We both nod and head out, stopping by the bunk room to grab gear. “I guess I’m stuck with your grumpy ass again,” Creed jokes as he straps his gun to his belt.
I grunt in response, scowling when he bursts into laughter. His hand is heavy when it slaps against my shoulder. “I’ll drive.”
Of course, he will. Like he would ever pass up an opportunity to take his car out on the highway. We’ll be lucky if we get to Stoneward without being pulled over for speeding. If the ride weren’t so smooth in the sleek car, I would make him take my Jeep instead.
“So,” he steers us onto the highway, headed south toward New Jersey, where the detention center is located. “Heard you finally pulled your head out of your ass.”
Glaring at the side of his big head, I don’t respond. He doesn’t care that I’m ignoring him; he barrels forward.
“It’s about damn time. She needs you, and I think you need her more.” Our speed picks up when he hits a stretch with less traffic, weaving between cars with practiced ease. “The way her pussy feels when she’s coming on your knot… Fucking rapturous. If anything can cure your assholism, it’s her.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grumble, trying not to think about knotting Bea. I do not need to have a hard-on for the three-hour drive.
Creed laughs again, the sound loud in the small space. “Seriously, though,” he sobers, “we’re all glad you’re trying to fix this. Fate put you in my kitten’s life for a reason.”
Rolling my eyes, I stare out the window and watch the world fly by. Fate doesn’t always lay our paths with good intentions. If they did, nasty shit wouldn’t tear packs apart.
Thick black plastic lines the inside of the barbed wire-topped fences running the length of the perimeter of the detention center, preventing passersby from seeing the inmates within.
Creed does all the talking as we gain access to the building, meeting with the center’s warden, who leads us to Harrison’s cell.