Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
SASHA
ANNUAL LUPTON FESTIVAL
Barb, Lacy, Cassandra Saunders, and I make sure we have all the supplies we need for the long day ahead at the festival. Fitch helps us load the box truck. Shockingly, Gavin is giving away free toys to kids who come to our booth.
I can’t wait to see if I can catch him smiling at the children.
Thirty minutes later, we arrive at the festival.
A large field has been turned into a sprawling carnival — a Ferris wheel throwing lazy shadows across the grass, strings of paper lanterns crisscrossing overhead, game booths painted in reds and golds that catch the early morning light.
Somewhere a carousel organ wheezes out an old tune under the thump of a country band tuning up on the main stage.
The ground is soft with churned-up hay and dust, and every few feet another vendor calls out over the crowd.
The smell of funnel cakes, fried Oreos, kettle corn, and corn dogs hits my nostrils all at once, thick and sweet and greasy in the best possible way.
“It smells so good,” I say, closing my eyes to breathe it in.
The ladies laugh.
“Do you go to festivals back home?” Lacy asks.
“When I was younger, I did. Since I’ve been an adult, I think I was so busy finding my way in the world, I forgot how to live carefree.”
“This town will be filled with a different band every week. Make sure you check out Viola’s fudge. It’s the best,” Barb adds.
“And the peach pie Lorraine Cannery bakes,” Cassandra says, her eyes rolling back with delight. “It’s absolutely mouthwatering.”
“I’ll definitely be sure to let go a little and enjoy the festival.”
I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes so I can people-watch better.
Thankfully, we’re in a large booth with a fan. Throughout the day we hand out tons of free toys to the kids. I thought the sheriff would be here by now.
I feel like I’m stalking him now. He brought me to work today. First, we had to stop by his cabin so he could shower and change clothes. I wish he’d share the job of watching me with someone else. I plan to talk to him about it later.
It’s four o’clock in the afternoon and the festival is in full swing. After we’ve locked our goods in totes under the table, the ladies and I say our goodbyes and set off in different directions. I sing along to a popular country song, watching a couple dance as the band performs.
“Hey, little lady.”
I peek at the man’s gray eyes and dark hair. He’s about five-ten.
“Are you enjoying the festival?”
I smile. “I am. How about you?”
“I’m having a great time.”
“Would you like to dance?” he asks.
A hand presses against my back. “No, she doesn’t want to dance.”
My mouth hangs open. “I’m sorry about the grumpy sheriff’s rudeness. Thanks for asking, but I’ll pass. Enjoy the festival.”
His smile rises and falls. “You too.”
Gavin still glares at him like he can’t take a hint.
“That was rude.”
“He needed to know you’re mine.”
I glance up at Gavin. “I’m not yours.”
He ignores my words and watches the band play.
Once the band’s set is done, Gavin leads me away from the concert area.
“Are you really enjoying yourself?”
“Yes.”
Did he think I was lying to the guy? Maybe he thinks small towns aren’t my vibe.
His hand curls possessively around the back of my neck.
Gavin’s touch sends a delicious shiver down my spine.
The townspeople stare and whisper.
“They’re staring like they’ve never seen you with a woman before.”
“It’s been so long, they forgot what I look like with a woman.”
I halt at a funnel cake station. We move into the line.
“Come home with me tonight,” he says aloud, not caring who hears him.
“No,” I whisper. “You can’t ask me that out loud; you’re my boss.”
I crane my neck to peer up at him. “Besides, I’d be tempted to go further this time.”
A wolfish grin curls his lips. “You’re already tempted.”
I laugh. “You don’t know that.”
“I’ve caught you daydreaming at your desk while watching my office when I was in a meeting.”
My brows lower. “So you spied on me on the security cameras.”
“It’s my station. So it’s not spying.”
I shake my head.
He releases my neck as we approach the window.
“Hey, Darryl, how’s it going?” Gavin asks.
“Busy,” he chuckles.
“That’s good to hear.”
“What can I get for you?” Darryl asks.
“Whatever my little omega wants.”
There’s that cocky smirk again.
“I’ll take a funnel cake,” I say.
Once I have my funnel cake, Gavin and I continue on. Beta after beta speaks to Gavin. They all have this twinkle in their eyes.
“Why do they look at you like they’re starstruck?”
“Since my omega ex walked out of my life and I won’t settle down with any of the omegas I was fucking.”
I cringe at the thought of Gavin having sex with them.
He continues. “They think I’d be happier with a beta.”
“Have you ever dated or had sex with a beta?”
“Once. In high school.”
“So even though an omega broke your heart.” I tear off a piece of my funnel cake and push it into his mouth.
What am I doing? We look like a couple.
“You still prefer omegas?”
“I guess it’s the alpha in me. I’d prefer my non-mate to be an omega.”
“Non-mate?”
“Neither you nor I want a mate. So you and I will be non-mates.”
As I turn over his words, he tugs my hand, leading me toward the house of mirrors.
I chew the last piece of powdery, doughy goodness and drop the empty plate into the trash bin.
“Everyone out,” the sheriff barks.
“I’m looking for a suspect,” he says as we move deeper into the mirrors that stretch our bodies into strange, rippling shapes — my legs shrinking to stumps in one panel, my torso wrenched into a wavering hourglass in the next, dozens of warped Sashas following us further into the maze.
The people scurry out of the building.
A tinge of excitement zings through me. “Who are we looking for?” I ask.
We reach the back of the building. A hundred fractured reflections of us stretch off in every direction under the dim overhead lights — his shoulders doubling, tripling, bending into impossible curves against the glass. Gavin pushes my back against the mirror.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to eat your pussy again. This time while I’m sober.” He drops on bended knee in all his heavy police gear, the leather of his utility belt creaking as he settles his weight.
“Do you think I don’t remember how you taste?”
“Gavin, I’ve been working all day. Even though I used cleaning wipes to keep myself fresh and dry, I probably taste like artificial freshness.”
He cups my ass through my powder-blue sundress, fingers pressing into the soft flesh and pulling me forward. “If you stop taking the scent suppressants that you aren’t supposed to take, I could smell you.”
If I do that, he’d be feral over me for sure.
“I don’t plan to stop taking them.”
He chuckles. “You will stop sooner than later.” There’s a fiery warning in his eyes as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and drags them down my thighs, past my knees, over my calves, and carefully over my silver sandals.
Gavin steadies my ankle as he helps me step out of them.
He brings the cotton fabric to his nose, presses it flat against his upper lip, and inhales slowly, his chest expanding.
“I love your natural scent, but I bet if I smelled your real scent, I’d be a happier man.”
He has no idea.
“Mr. Grumpy, a happy man? How does that work?”
“I’m a little less grumpy when I’m with you,” he says, pushing my dress up with both hands and bunching the flowy material against my torso, holding it there with one forearm so his other hand is free.
“Are you scared of my cock and knot?”
“A little. It’s huge,” I cry out as he leans in and drives his tongue directly into my entrance, a slow, deliberate curl that drags against my inner walls.
“Gavin,” I whisper.
He lifts my leg and settles it over his shoulder, turning his head slightly to press an open-mouthed kiss to my inner thigh before returning to my center.
“I need to taste all of you.” He spreads me open with two fingers and licks a long, flat stroke from my entrance to my clit, the full breadth of his tongue dragging over every fold.
“Sheriff, your tongue is wicked good.”
He chuckles against my pussy, the vibration buzzing straight through my clit and up my spine, and I nearly buckle. I grip his hair in both fists to stay upright, fingers twisting into the dark strands.
“We shouldn’t do this here. Someone could see us.”
My heart races a mile a minute.
“You won’t spend the night yet,” he says, pulling back just far enough to circle the flat of his tongue slowly around my clit, tracing a tight, deliberate orbit that never quite touches the center.
“Oh, shit.” I slap a hand over my mouth.
He seals his lips around my clit and sucks hard, his cheeks hollowing with the pull, and my hips jerk forward against his face.
The orgasm tears through me from the inside out, my thighs clamping around his head, my back arching off the mirror.
“I’m coming.” My eyes roll back and my head knocks against the glass.
He groans low in his throat and licks upward through the rush of slick that floods his mouth, his tongue working in long, hungry strokes to collect every drop. “Eating your pussy is the highlight of my fucking day.”
“I love the way your tongue feels on my pussy.”
“Is that so, non-mate?” He pulls back and looks up at me, lips wet, beard glistening, emerald eyes dark and half-lidded.
“Gavin, you’re going to turn me into a puddle if you keep sucking my clit like that.”
“Good.” He dips back in and seals his mouth over me again, sucking with slow, rhythmic pulls. “Give me more of your slick.” The words vibrate against my folds.
His emerald eyes stay locked on mine, hungry with need, watching my face come apart above him. “No one else will take care of my non-mate in a heat camp.”
I never told him I’d go to a heat camp, but I guess he just figured I would whenever I’d go into heat.
My fingers drift down to caress his bearded cheek, feeling the wet scratch of his stubble against my palm.