Chapter 22
The flustered look on Camille’s face at my suggestive words makes my cock pulse.
In an attempt to keep my cool, I jacked off in the shower as soon as I found out she was coming over.
Clearly not effective. The only reason I wasn’t hard the second I laid eyes on her again was because Dolly was being a little terror.
The omega looks breathtaking tonight. Yeah, she looked amazing coming on my cock and covered in my cum, but there’s something about the delicate dress that has me all worked up. The flowy fabric of the skirt is begging to be pooled up over her hips while I taste her.
Screw dinner, I want Camille.
You’d think I’m the one with the damn scent match with how into her I am. If this is how I’m feeling after a few minutes in Camille’s presence again, it’s a wonder that I didn’t come back to the house to find her bent over the kitchen island with Ambrose knot-deep inside her.
Camille’s rapid breaths draw my eye to the swell of her tits, which are generously displayed by the low neckline of her dress. My fingers twitch to reach up and cup them, remapping them with my touch until she cries out with need.
“Jackson…” Her hazel eyes sparkle as she looks up at me.
I lean in, mouth growing closer to hers until we’re breathing the same air. Her eyes flutter closed and her breath hitches as my lips brush against hers. It’s barely more than a whisper of a kiss, because as much as I want to kiss her senseless, I remember how much fun it was to tease her.
If I wasn’t so close, I would’ve missed the little whine she releases. She’s trying to keep it trapped inside her throat, like she wants to hide her need from me.
That won’t do.
I chuckle, bringing a hand up to cup her hip possessively. A jolt of energy zings through my system as her invigorating scent blooms around me, and my laugh turns to a groan as she presses up on her toes to chase my lips.
Dolly’s bark echoes down the hallway, startling Camille. She takes a step back from me with a breathy, nervous laugh.
The spell of her allure breaks, and sense—along Ambrose’s warning about taking things slow—rushes back to me.
I look past my arousal to focus on her body language, and almost wince when I see how anxious she is. Camille is turned on, and her omega seems eager to rekindle what we started during her heat, but she’s also uncomfortable.
Stop thinking with your dick and think with your heart, dumbass.
I want Camille in my life in all ways, not just for sex. In my gut, I already know I want her to be a part of our pack. The moment I saw Dahlia switch from protector mode to loving on Camille less than a few seconds after meeting her, it became crystal clear.
Dolly wouldn’t steer me wrong. She knows Camille fits.
Yes, I know basing my commitment to something so life-altering on my dog’s opinion is a little nuts.
Whatever.
There are worse reasons to decide someone fits with you. How is that any weirder than smelling someone and deciding you belong together?
I move back, giving Camille some space and flashing her a bright smile while silently begging my dick to calm the fuck down. “Damn, my manners really are awful. I get you alone for a minute and start acting like I’m starving for you. Which, to be fair, I am. But I want to do this right.”
Camille shakes her head, and she exhales like she’s trying to cool herself down too. “I get it. My omega is a total slut, apparently. Self-preservation and rationality be damned.” She huffs. “Ugh, it’s driving me crazy.”
“Think it would help if I made you come real quick to take the edge off? I could probably get it done in under five minutes.” It’s meant as a joke, but the second the words tumble out of my mouth, I worry she won’t take it that way and I’ve made her more uncomfortable.
Relief washes over me when Camille smiles and shakes her head again. “Under five? I forgot how cocky you are.”
I place my hands on my hips, striking a confident pose. “It’s not cocky if it’s true.”
Her laugh at my words ends in a snort, and I’ll be damned if that isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.
It’s now of the utmost importance that I hear it again.
“So that’s a no?”
Camille laughs harder. “Maybe later.”
A second passes and her eyes widen as she realizes what she said. “I mean, later as in another time. Not tonight! Unless… I’m going to be quiet now.”
“After dinner orgasms are a maybe. Got it.” I wink at her and she groans, but I can tell she finds me charming rather than annoying.
Thank fuck for that.
I level her with a serious look. “Come on, we’d better hurry up or Ambrose will think we’re misbehaving. Don’t want Daddy to get mad.”
She snort-laughs again in surprise at my deadpanned joke.
Yep. That’s definitely my new favorite sound.
Camille releases a soft moan that makes my dick swell as I stare at her plush lips wrapped around her fork.
My slack jaw snaps shut when Ambrose kicks me under the table. I glance over to find him glaring at me, and give him a sheepish smile.
The old man is keeping his cool a lot better than me, but he can’t hide the flush on his cheeks that shows the sound affected him too.
I adjust myself surreptitiously under the table, and turn my attention back to Camille as her eyes flutter open.
She grins at me. “Okay, I’m really glad I didn’t ask for something cooler.”
“Cooler? Like in temperature?” My brow furrows. “Is the food still too hot?”
“No, no, I mean something less basic. Mac and cheese isn’t really a sexy or cool favorite meal to have, but this is so delicious I don’t even care about seeming boring or unhealthy.
” She gathers more of the mac and cheese on her fork and brings it to her mouth, eyes closing with pleasure at the second bite.
There’s a swell of pride in my chest knowing she likes my cooking, which only makes my cock harder. I’ll cook her anything she wants.
“Screw that. Always ask for what you like,” I say, waving off her concerns. Yeah, the carb and dairy heavy meal will mess with my macros, but sometimes you have to live a little.
I glance down at the enormous portion I spooned out for myself. Or live a lot.
I may be intense about my gains and physique, but my usual guilt at not sticking to my meal plan is entirely absent tonight. All that matters is that Camille is happy, the food is delicious, and things are going well.
The relief at giving myself permission to enjoy the food is unexpected, but welcome.
It’s even better when I taste the dish for myself, and am instantly reminded how fucking good carbs and cheese and salt and butter taste together. I let out my own moan. “Shit, I think I might come.”
Ambrose shakes his head at my crass words. “For fuck’s sake, we’re trying to eat,” he mutters.
Camille giggles at both of us. “Guess mac and cheese is sexier than I thought.”
I shovel more into my mouth and nod, letting out a muffled sound of assent.
Ambrose glares at me, then turns his focus to Camille, clearly wanting to move on from this topic before I say anything else about having a food-induced orgasm. “So, how was the rest of your work day, Camille?”
She visibly winces at his question, and all the humor between us evaporates. Ambrose and I go stock still.
“What happened?” I ask, my words coming out rougher than intended, but all I can think about is finding the source of what at work made Camille react like that and taking care of it.
Her brow crinkles. “Oh, uh, nothing.” Her eyes drop to her plate. “Just your typical end of the week stress. Wanting the day to wrap up so it can be the weekend.”
It’s clearly a lie.
Ambrose gives Camille a soft smile, but I can practically feel the tension radiating off of him.
“We don’t know each other well, and it’s okay if you’re not comfortable discussing it, but I’m always happy to listen if something is bothering you.
” He glances over at me. “And Jackson is a decent listener when he’s interested in the subject.
Which he definitely is, because it involves you. ”
I grumble at his assessment, even though it’s accurate.
Camille’s eyes flick between us, clearly conflicted about bringing up whatever had her wincing like that.
Her plastered on smile falters and she sighs, then picks up her glass of wine to take a sip.
“My omega is making work really difficult,” she confesses, then lets out a humorless laugh.
“Well, she’s making everything hard, but work in particular is a total shitshow. ”
Ambrose frowns. “I can’t imagine how difficult of an adjustment this is for you, Camille. Are people giving you a hard time about your new designation? Are you getting the accommodations you need?”
Her brows pinch together. “No, no, it’s not that. No one, uh, has said anything about my designation. I’m just a mess, and my boss has been even harsher than usual, and everything feels so much harder than it did before.”
I hate how defeated she sounds. A fierce protectiveness rises within me. “Well, if anyone at work ever gives you a problem because you’re an omega, let them know your lawyer will be in touch.”
“My lawyer?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’ll get them sorted out.” I swore I’d never work in that soul-crushing field again when I quit the firm, but for Camille, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
Camille snorts and shakes her head, turning to Ambrose. “Wow, he’s even cockier than I thought, thinking he could pull off pretending to be my lawyer.”
A smug grin curves across my lips. “I wouldn’t need to pretend, gorgeous. I may not have practiced in while, but my license is still good.”
Her mouth falls open. “Wait, you’re seriously a lawyer?”
Ambrose nods. “For once, he’s not joking.”
“Hey! I can be serious,” I protest. I try to think of the last time that happened to give as an example, but draw a blank, and scowl when Ambrose laughs.
In truth, I don’t mind the ribbing at all seeing how it amuses Camille. I’ll happily be the butt of any joke to make her smile.
God, that makes me sound like such a simp. Though, I guess I joke about myself the same way to make River laugh, so maybe that’s just my default.
Camille reaches across the table to touch my hand, and my skin tingles pleasurably at the contact. “I believe you.” Her smile makes my stomach go all warm and gooey. “Is it rude for me to ask why you’re working as a heat minder and not a lawyer?”
I shake my head, smiling back at her. “Not rude. The whole point of tonight is to get to know each other. I stopped working as a lawyer because I needed a change. I didn’t go into the profession for the right reasons and it never was a good fit for me.
The only thing I miss about it is the income, because now I’m practically a freeloader. ”
There’s a sharp sting of inadequacy and guilt at admitting I don’t pull my weight for the pack. It’s embarrassing as fuck to admit that to the woman we’re trying to court.
Ambrose frowns. “You’re not a freeloader. That job was killing you, Jackson. If you hadn’t quit on your own, we would’ve found a way to get you fired. Anything to get you out of that cesspool.”
“Wait, what?” He’s never said anything about getting me fired before.
Camille’s eyes dart between us, watching the exchange.
I lower my voice so I sound calmer. “How would you have gotten me fired?”
“We thought about pretending that you stole Dahlia from your coworker. He was enough of a cutthroat asshole to have lied and gone along with it.”
I gape at him in disbelief, glancing over at my girl, who is currently burrowed under a blanket on her bed on the other side of the dining room.
“You stole your dog from your coworker?” Camille asks, brows shooting up.
“No! I didn’t.” I cross my arms and glare at the alpha beside me. “Dude, quit making me look bad,” I hiss.
Camille laughs. “She’s pretty cute. I wouldn’t blame you if you had.”
“She’s the cutest,” I agree. “But I didn’t steal her.
My shithead of a coworker wanted to put her down after she injured her back.
He should’ve known that was a common risk with dachshunds before he bought her.
The vet said that she could still have an active and happy life with the proper care and accommodations, but he didn’t want to bother.
I begged him to let me adopt her instead, and thankfully, he agreed. ”
I leave out the part where he called her too inconvenient now that she was “defective”.
This perfect, hilarious, wonderful treasure of a dog was “inconvenient”.
Fucking monster.
I barely resist the urge to go scoop Dolly up and give her kisses to reassure her she never has to deal with that jerk again, though I doubt she even remembers him.
“God, that’s awful. Some people don’t deserve to have pets.” Camille gives me a look so tender that I swear my heart skips a beat. “You’re an angel for saving her. She’s lucky to have you.”
I know she’s talking about Dahlia, but there’s something vulnerable in her tone that makes me think maybe she’s talking about herself a little, too.
“I’m the lucky one,” I say thickly. To my horror, tears well in my eyes.
Shit, I can’t cry on our first date!
Thankfully, the sound of the front door opening interrupts me. Dolly immediately perks up, letting out a soft bark with the blanket still draped over her head.
“Hey! Sorry I’m so late,” River calls from the entryway. “I tried to get here sooner, but I got caught up in a project I had to take over and then the bakery was out of all their cookies. Can you believe that? Who ever heard of running out of cookies?”
My packmate appears in the arched entryway to the dining area and freezes, his eyes going wide and mouth falling open as his eyes land on Camille.
The nervous smile she’d put on as she heard him approaching falters at his reaction to her presence.
“Dude, did you forget Camille was coming over?” I ask jokingly. “Or are you as stunned by how hot she is as we were?”
River’s mouth snaps shut and his expression shutters. “No. I didn’t forget.”
I reach down the bond to try to figure out what is up with his weird behavior, but he gives me nothing.
I don’t need a bond to know all the rapport we’ve been building with Camille since she arrived has vanished.
Dammit.
She gives River a tight smile, pushing her chair back to stand to greet him. “H-hi. I’m Camille.” She reaches a hand out and River stares at her like he’s never seen an omega before.
An incredibly long, awkward moment passes before he gives her hand a curt shake. “River.”
I shoot Ambrose a perplexed look, but he looks as confused as I am. River was anxious about meeting Camille, but this is beyond that.
What the fuck is going on?