15. Joel
Chapter fifteen
Joel
The air in the house clings to me as I walk in the door. Thick with mist from the diffuser, I catch several scents, as if Tracey couldn’t decide which one to use. Maybe because she missed me. It must’ve been lonely, spending the night here all by herself after our fight.
“Tracey?” I call, peeling off my boots.
I’ve missed her. The sleepover with Jeremy refreshed me but also made me remember why I fell in love. That’s why I knocked off work early, because I couldn’t wait any longer to reunite.
Tracey brings fun to my life. Set in my ways as I am, I wouldn’t get out much without her coaxing. Yeah, I gave up a few of my hobbies in the process, but relationships are about give and take.
Maybe she wasn’t the kindest in giving me the ultimatum but look at us about to reconcile now. She never meant what she said, those were simply words spoken in anger—because she’s stressed, and I didn’t put her needs first.
After my trip to the garden center yesterday, I spent hours thinking about plants, and I concluded we could remodel the backyard. It’d be a joint project, to spend more time together. And then we could get married there, under a flower-filled arch.
Or at least have the reception out the back, if Tracey wants a church wedding. I guess we still have a lot to plan, and maybe that’s why she’s getting jitters.
I stretch out my back and look around. Strange. Her car is in the garage, but she’s not here.
Buzzing sounds from our bedroom, so I push the door open. “You here?” I call. The mixed scents grow even more pungent in this space.
“Yeah, in here.”
I walk through to the bathroom where she has one foot up on the toilet lid, shaving her leg. Freshly showered, her semi-sheer robe leaves little of her sculpted ass to the imagination and I salivate thinking about what might be ahead for us.
“Hi,” I say, leaning on the doorframe.
She throws me a coy smile. “Hi yourself. You’re home early.”
I nod. “Yeah, I wanted to see you.”
She straightens up, revealing a black lacy corset that I don’t recall seeing before.
“Pretty,” I murmur, my dick and my heart both thrilling at the same time. “Is all that for me?”
Tracey smirks. “Get in the shower and I’ll think about it.”
“Only if you get in with me.”
She rolls her eyes but sets her electric razor down.
I surge forward, not caring that I’m covered in ceiling dust and dried paint fragments. She’s my heart, and I shouldn’t have yelled at her or stayed away.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair, tugging her to my chest.
She hesitates for a split second, then wraps her arms around my waist. I walk backward into the shower, turning the water on and not caring that it starts cold. It’s 97 degrees outside, and about to be even hotter in here.
Tracey shrieks at the cold water but I lock her against my chest, laughing. The fights, the adjustments, none of it matters when I have this woman. She’s the reason I work so hard, the reason I strive for more in life.
“You’re so cruel!” she sputters, beating her little fists on my chest.
“And you’re so beautiful. How’d I get this lucky?” I cup her face and lean down, the water warming as I seal my mouth to hers. She tastes of toothpaste and her own mild honeysuckle flavor. Plus, something greasier that might be her lunch.
She whimpers and wraps a hand around my neck, tugging my mouth back to hers greedily. The water soaks us, washing away my grime and coating her skin in a smooth film. I slide my hand down over her hip, playing with the drenched corset.
My cock grows, reaching for her and I set my leg between hers so she can feel it.
“I missed you,” I say.
Tracey laughs. “You, or your dick?”
“Both.” I grasp her hips and grind her gently over me. Her hands drift to my shoulders before she lowers herself, rubbing her scantily-clad pussy over my thigh.
“Shit,” I mutter, releasing her to drop my pants.
Just as keen, she peels off my high vis shirt and runs her hands through the soft hair peppering my chest. She leans in and sucks on my nipple, sending a powerful flush of heated blood scooting through my belly.
“Tracey, love,” I groan, gripping the roots of her hair to press her mouth harder to my skin. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
She mumbles around my nipple, reaching up to tweak the other.
My dick leaps and I strip the negligee off her shoulders. “Oh, fuck. Use me, sweetheart, like your own personal toy.”
She writhes onto my thigh and I reach around her, searching for a way to release her beautiful body from the corset. With a quick slap, she ends my quest, shifting my hand to between her legs instead. The gusset pops open as I release the tiny press studs there, baring her pussy to me.
I groan as I run a knuckle over her hairless lips. She’s already swollen for me.
“I need to get my cock inside you,” I rasp, massaging lightly.
She huffs, spraying water across my shoulder. “First things first, Joel.”
I know, I can’t rush her pleasure, but fuck if I don’t want to ruin her right now.
“Okay, babe.”
Tracey’s skin heats under my hand, fluttering lightly. I turn my wrist and press my finger up, searching for her clit. She moans and grips my shoulders tightly. I lean in and kiss her throat and under her ears, listening to her broken breathing for every hint of what she’s enjoying most.
Her pleasure becomes my entire focus, the throbbing in my balls a distant echo as I touch her everywhere I can reach. When she’s panting and writhing, I dip my finger between her pussy lips, her moans lubricating my soul.
“I missed you,” I say, kissing her hair. “All of you. Even your scent.”
Deeper I press, until she’s mewling in delight.
She’s so fucking wet inside, it’s possible she’s already come once.
Carefully I insert a second finger, rubbing until she’s clinging to me so tight her nails break my skin.
She tips her head back, eyes ablaze, and I get a third finger inside.
Then I fuck her with my hand until she’s sobbing and screaming, gushing across my palm like the sensitive woman she is.
“So fucking beautiful,” I mutter, watching her fall apart. I fist my cock and stroke, eager to be part of the action.
“N-not here,” she murmurs, leaning on me.
“Okay, sweetheart.” I flick the shower off and pick her up.
Tracey squeals and kicks her toes, making our slippery skin bump even more.
I carry her to the bed, snagging a towel along the way before I place her on the comforter.
The diffuser scent lies thick on the covers, soaking them with a layer of peppermint.
I’ll add her honeysuckle aroma to the mix, until she’s too exhausted to argue with me.
“Hurry,” she pants, still in the throes of her orgasms.
I growl softly, the alpha nature within not needing any encouragement. I spread her knees and line myself up, pressing in slowly. I fit easily, but I want to treasure this moment of our reunion.
“Joel!” she whines, hips rising with eagerness.
“All in good time,” I purr, trapping her wrists down on the sheets. “Let me enjoy this.”
She feels good, soft and warm inside. And so wet. Memories of an omega from long ago surface. Betas like Tracey don’t usually get that same spongy texture inside; but today it’s so good.
“Babe, what’s going on?” I croon, thrusting deeper just to test the plushness again. “Why do you feel so amazing?”
“Because you missed me, silly,” she says with a giggle.
“I did.” I thrust into her, sliding her body up the bed. “So much it’s driving me crazy.”
I want to pour out my heart to her and tell her all the things I thought about after she apologized, but I can barely form words with her soft skin under my hands and that befuddling smoke clouding the room.
I grunt and thrust again, chasing her sliding body. She groans and flails on the covers, looking for grip. One hand flies over her head, knocking the pillow.
“Tracey, you’re—”
Her fingers disturb something under the pillow, and her body spasms. Black lace peeks from under her hand.
“What did you get?” I ask with a chuckle, reaching over her to lift the pillow.
Half tucked under the sheet sits a pair of black lace underwear. Men’s underwear. A G-string to be precise, perfectly matching the design of her black corset. My blood runs cold, my erection dissolving in a heartbeat.
“What the fuck?” I wheeze.
“They’re a gift for you,” she blurts out. “But I wasn’t sure you’d like them.”
Her voice comes from a long way off as I bunch the scrap of cloth in my hand. The scent I’ve been catching on her, the one almost obliterated by the diffusers, explodes in my nose. I know what this is, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
My limp cock slips free of her hold, shock numbing every part of my body. Moisture catches on my fingertips from the lace.
“They’re used,” I murmur. “These things are fucking used.”
“No,” she says, eyes rolling with panic. “I was just rubbing them on myself, thinking of you.” Her honeysuckle aroma sours, turning old like compost.
“Lies!” I roar, stepping back from the bed. “You forget I’m an alpha. I can smell the lies in your fucking scent.”
Her expression morphs, from fear to anger. Lurching upright, she pulls herself to the head of the bed. “So what? You were gone, and I needed company. You’re such a fucking prude. People pack up all the time, you know.”
“When they discuss it and choose a packmate together! Not like this. Never like this!” My heart freefalls into a bottomless darkness. “Who is he?”
She shrugs. “A guy from work. You haven’t met him.”
“A guy?” I echo, rasping over each word. “Tracey, we’ve promised to marry each other.” I stagger until my back hits the wall. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She draws herself up, arms tight across her chest. “Well, I’ve decided I want more. It’s not like you’re well endowed, even if you are an alpha, and Beau gets two dicks, so why can’t I?”
“You . . . just . . . decided?”