Chapter 14
LUCA
“Impossible is one word for your scent,” I murmur, adjusting my grip on the wheel as the truck tears along the road with the ocean flashing blue to our left. “Cruel is another.”
“So dramatic,” Adelaide says as she turns in the passenger seat and faces me, giving me her full attention in a way that nearly ruins me.
Her scent has already taken over the cab, sweet peony threaded with dark chocolate and warm Omega, and every breath I drag in goes straight through my bloodstream like a drug.
One day. That’s all it’s taken for my body to decide she belongs in my space.
“Anyway, North was okay with us taking his truck?” she asks, one brow arching.
“We share it all the time, and it’s mine for the day. Besides, I figure we’ll need it for all your shopping.” I grin her way.
She laughs as she tucks her hair behind her ear, trying for casual, but the air in the cab says otherwise.
Her scent deepens again, and my jaw tightens.
She sits there so innocently in her tiny white skirt, tight T-shirt with a palm tree on it, and sneakers, and I can’t stop staring at those stunning legs.
“You always this cocky?” she asks, though there’s amusement in her voice now, a spark she isn’t bothering to hide.
“Only when I’m trying not to lose my mind in a confined space,” I tell her.
Her lips twitch. “Bit over the top.”
I let out a rough laugh. “You’re my Omega scent match in the passenger seat. I’m being massively understated.”
Her smile doesn’t vanish, but it goes soft at the edges. Her fingers trail over the seam of the seat belt at her waist. “So this is biology?” she asks, and her tone is light, but there’s curiosity under it. Wariness too. “That’s your excuse?”
“Nah.” I keep my gaze on the road. “It’s a fact. My whole system clocked you the second you got near us. Every Alpha part of me went straight from interested to territorial in about five seconds. That doesn’t happen around just any Omega.”
She goes quiet for a moment, then says, “That sounds inconvenient.”
I grin. “For me? Extremely.”
“For me too, actually,” she mutters, almost under her breath.
That pulls my attention sideways for half a second. “Yeah?”
She leans back against the seat, pretending she’s at ease. “You three walk into a room, and the air changes. That’s not exactly subtle.”
Warm satisfaction curls through me, dark and male and far too pleased by that confession. “Good,” I say.
Her head turns. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” My voice drops. “Means it’s not all in my head.”
Color rises in her cheeks. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
The truck roars over a stretch of uneven road, and she braces a hand against the door.
Her sweet scent slides through the cab and settles under my skin until I’m gripping the wheel enough to feel it in my forearms. She stares at them, admiring, and on purpose I grip the wheel tighter so my muscles harden, those veins popping out a bit to really impress her.
She’s still admiring them, and I love every second of it. A slow smile drags at my mouth. “You know I can smell your arousal, right?”
Her head snaps toward me with that stare that implores me to shut the hell up.
Christ, that does me in far worse than the scent. I shift in my seat, trying to ease the pressure building under my jeans without drawing attention to it. No chance. She notices everything.
Her gaze flicks down and then back up, and now she’s the one smiling. “Having a hard time?” she asks sweetly.
I bark a quiet laugh.
“You started it.” Her lips part. Then she glances out the window for a moment, at the water, the palms, the clean line of morning stretching ahead of us, but I can feel her thinking.
It’s in the sharp little breaths she keeps trying to hide and the way she presses those creamy thighs together like that might solve a damn thing.
“I’ve known you for five minutes, and every instinct I’ve got is already rearranging itself around you,” I say. “That’s not me losing control but me fighting for it.”
Her expression is softer now. “And you’re winning?” she asks.
I smile, but there’s no humor in it this time. “Barely.”
She moves in her seat, yet her gaze never leaves me.
Fuck. I drag in another breath, and her scent floods my lungs all over again. Sweet, warm, Omega. Mine, mine, mine, some ugly possessive part of me insists, and I shove that urge down where it belongs.
“So, what,” she says, voice steadier than the heat curling through the cab, “I’m supposed to be impressed by your self-control?”
“No.” I cut her a brief glance, then face the road again. “You’re supposed to appreciate the effort.”
She laughs, and this time it’s brighter, teasing its way through the tension without easing any of it. “I’m not sure I do.”
“Then you’re ungrateful.”
She shakes her head, smiling despite herself.
I keep going, because at this point, restraint feels like a technicality.
“You want the truth? Sitting this close to you feels like torture. Every inhale is you. My body’s been keyed up since the second you climbed in, and it’s taking an obscene amount of discipline not to pull over and find out whether you taste as good as you smell. ”
She seems to forget to answer, and that alone is enough to send a dark pulse of satisfaction through me.
A blush rises under her skin, and she drops her gaze to her hands like she suddenly finds them fascinating. One thumb rubs over the other, and maybe I’ve hit too close to home.
I take the turn into town and ease the truck onto the quieter street, exhaling slowly through my nose.
The buildings start to replace the coastline, little shops and parked cars and people moving through their morning, all of them blissfully unaware that I’m one deep breath away from hauling an Omega into my lap.
“For the record,” I say, quieter now, “I can behave.”
She glances at me, amusement back in place, and laughs. Then her smile fades. “And if I ask for more?”
The words slide into the cab and stay there. My pulse kicks hard once, so I don’t answer immediately. I pull up to the lights, the engine idling under us, the red glow washing the cab in a low, suspended kind of tension.
Then I turn my head and meet her eyes properly.
“If you asked,” I say, voice low and steady and full of everything I’ve been holding back, “I’d give you exactly what your body’s been asking for since you got near us.
Because I have an idea how hard it is.” I emphasize the word while she rolls her eyes, but her gaze drops to my groin and stays.
“You weren’t exaggerating,” she adds.
“I never do when it comes to size.”
“Most men who say that are liars,” he quips quickly.
“And?”
A slow grin spreads across her face. “What would you do if I reached over right now to find out?”
My heart thunders. “I’m sorry?”
“So I can check for myself.”
“Oh, I heard you. I’m verifying.”
Her eyes narrow in my direction, her hand resting on the center console. “Do you trust me?”
“Right now, in this truck, with that question?” I glance at her once, a thrill zipping down my back. “Sure.”
She turns in her seat, angling toward me, and I lean back into the door slightly because I need to see how far this goes and also because if she gets closer, I’m going to try to not drive us off the road. I adore how she’s always up for a challenge to prove herself.
“You think I won’t,” she says.
“I think you’ll do exactly what you want to, and I’ll deal with the consequences.”
“That’s very evolved of you.” She tugs at her seat belt to loosen it. Then her fingers touch the inside of my thigh, and I breathe quicker. Her touch is light, barely there, tracing a line upward, and I feel it through the denim.
“You’re going to get us killed,” I say very calmly.
The corner of her mouth pulls. She traces upward and over the length of my cock, and my jaw clenches. Fuck!
I don’t want her to stop now or ever. And now I need to keep driving just to see how far she’ll take this.
“You’re so much bigger than I thought,” she says, almost to herself.
“I told you I don’t exaggerate.”
She squeezes me and I groan, my pulse drumming in my veins, my cock desperate for release.
“You could tell me to stop,” she almost purrs.
“Yep.”
“But you’re not.” Her grin is so evil, loving this moment of torture.
“Correct.”
She works at my belt suddenly, and I let her. With one hand on the wheel, the road ahead empty and sun-bright, I am keeping this truck between the lines through sheer force of will. The button on my jeans comes open. Then the zipper.
She parts the denim and pulls down my boxers, and I hiss a breath in through my teeth. “Oh,” she says, with the specific quality of someone revising an estimate as she stares down at my huge, now-free cock. “Okay.”
“You’re welcome,” I manage.
“You’re so much more—”
“I know.”
“I was going to say confident.”
“Sure you were.” I’m gripping the wheel with both hands now, and the road is going to need my full attention. However, she wraps her fingers around me, and my full attention is not available.
She strokes me once, slowly, watching my face.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask.
“So much. And you?”
“Fuck yeah.” My hips want to move, but I don’t let them. “You’re trying to make us crash.”
“I’m barely doing anything.”
Her grip tightens, and I breathe the word out: “Christ.”
Her hand moves lower, slow, exploratory, and when she cradles my balls fully, I growl, the sound deep and guttural in my chest. She glances up and grins as if she’s won a game she invented thirty seconds ago. Her hand goes back to my shaft and suffocates it. I’m gasping for air… “Fuck, Adelaide.”
She reaches behind her and lengthens her seat belt again, then her head drops into my lap.
“Oh, fuck.”
Her lips press over my tip, so warm and wet, and then she takes me deeper, and every coherent thought I have exits the vehicle without looking back.