Chapter 19 Seth #2
"Not in three weeks when you're in heat," River finishes. "That's smart, sweetheart. That's really smart."
She's affected. More than she's letting on. Pre-heat making her restless.
"I want..." She looks at me, and there's heat in her gaze mixed with something frantic.
"What do you want, sweetheart?" River's voice has gone low.
"I want Seth to take me on that Christmas lights date. Tonight."
"Yeah?" My pulse kicks.
"Yeah." Her scent blooms warmer, more insistent, but her voice has an edge of frustration. "I want—I need some time with just you. Please. And yes, I know I sound desperate. It's the pre-heat. I'm owning it."
"Okay." I'm already standing, already reaching for her hand. "Okay, sweetheart. Let's go."
She practically launches herself off the couch, her hand gripping mine tight.
"Go," River says, amused but concerned. "Call if you need anything."
Grayson stands, approval in his dark eyes. "Take care of her."
"Always," I promise.
The truck cab fills with her scent before we even leave River's driveway.
She's tucked against the passenger door, wrapped in my department jacket that's too big on her, but she's fidgeting. Restless. Her leg bouncing, fingers plucking at the jacket hem.
"You okay?" I ask quietly.
"No. Yes. I don't know." She laughs, but it sounds strained. "Everything feels too tight. Like my skin doesn't fit right. Is that normal? Or am I just losing my mind in a really uncomfortable way?"
"I think so. Pre-heat stuff." I pull onto Main Street. "Do you want me to take you home instead? If you're not feeling good—"
"No!" Too quick, too sharp. "Sorry. I just—I don't want to go home. I want this. I want you. Just..." She makes a frustrated sound. "Can we please talk about something other than how my body is betraying me? Because this is not how I planned our first real date to go."
I drive.
I take the turn toward the outskirts of town, where the streetlights fade and the forest presses close. The same route I took her that first night, when we almost kissed before the emergency call.
Main Street is lit up with Christmas lights now—they turned on two weeks ago, and Tessa's been adding more decorations everywhere. But I'm not taking her to see those.
We reach the overlook—barely a pulloff, really—where you can see all of Honeyridge Falls spread out below. Lights twinkling against the dark mountains. Snow dusting the peaks. The whole town glowing with Christmas decorations.
I park and kill the engine.
"Our spot," Bea says softly.
"Yeah." My heart stutters. She called it "our spot."
"Last time we were here, we almost—" She stops.
"Almost kissed. Before the emergency call." I risk looking at her. "I think about that a lot."
"Me too." Her voice is quiet. "What would have happened if the call hadn't come through?"
"I would have kissed you."
"Why didn't you? After?"
"Because I was terrified. Still am." I take a breath.
"Seth.” Her hand finds my arm.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm playing a part. Like everyone else got the manual for how to be a good alpha and I just got the anxiety."
"You're a great alpha," she says fiercely, and there's something raw in her voice. "You're kind and patient and you actually listen. Do you know how rare that is?"
"Bea—"
"I'm serious. Terrance never listened. He'd already decided what I needed before I opened my mouth. But you—" Her voice cracks slightly. "You ask. You check in. You make me feel safe without making me feel trapped."
"That's all I want. For you to feel safe."
"I do." She's quiet for a beat. "It's terrifying how safe you make me feel. How much I want—" She stops, shakes her head. "God, your scent. I can't think straight."
She turns to look at me. "You're not even looking at the view."
"I'm looking at you."
Her breath catches. "Seth—"
"I can't stop looking at you. You're so beautiful it hurts."
Her scent spikes—sharp and sweet and desperate. "You can't just say things like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because—" She's unbuckling, sliding across the bench seat. "Because it makes me want to do this."
She kisses me.
And I completely freeze.
Her lips are soft against mine, her hands coming up to frame my face, and my brain just—stops. Every thought evaporates. I can't remember how to move, how to breathe, how to do anything except sit here like a terrified statue.
She pulls back, concern flickering across her face. "Seth? Are you okay?"
"I—yeah—sorry—" The words tumble out. "I just—you surprised me—I didn't—"
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No!" Too loud. Too desperate. I clear my throat. "No. Please don't stop. I just—I'm not—I don't know what I'm doing."
Understanding softens her expression. "Hey. It's okay."
"It's not okay. You're—and I'm—" I run a hand through my hair. "I've kissed you exactly three times. Total. In my entire life. And I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with my hands or where to—I'm going to screw this up—"
"Seth." She cups my face, making me look at her. "Breathe."
I breathe. Sort of.
"There's no supposed to," she says softly, but there's an edge to her voice. Like she's barely holding onto control herself. "Just do what feels good."
"Everything feels good. That's the problem." My voice comes out strained. "You're sitting this close and you smell so good and I can't think straight and—"
She kisses me again. Harder this time, almost frantic, giving me no choice but to catch up. And this time I manage to kiss her back, my hands finding her waist because I have to touch her, have to hold onto something.
She tastes like cinnamon and apples and when she parts her lips on a soft gasp—nearly a whimper—I follow her lead, deepening the kiss. The air around us goes thick and sweet and—
Oh god. That's slick. I can smell her slick.
The realization makes me dizzy. Makes my jeans get painfully tight in about three seconds flat.
"Seth," she breathes against my mouth, and her voice is wrecked. "Can I—I want to get closer. Please. I need—"
"Yes." I'm nodding before I even process the question. "Whatever you want."
She's moving, climbing over the console—and I try to help by grabbing her waist but misjudge completely and end up with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her hip at the wrong angle. She half-trips, half-falls into my lap with an "oof" that's decidedly unsexy.
"Sorry—I've got you—wait—" I'm trying to steady her but my elbow hits the horn and it blares through the quiet overlook.
We both freeze.
Then she starts laughing—really laughing—her forehead pressed to my shoulder as her whole body shakes with it.
"Smooth, Monroe," I mutter, face burning.
"Stop." She's still giggling, lifting her head to look at me. "That was perfect."
"I just honked the horn and nearly dropped you."
"You tried to help. That's what matters." She settles properly into my lap now, her thighs on either side of mine. "See? Now we're good."
I make a sound that's definitely not dignified.
"Hi," she whispers, and despite everything there's something vulnerable in her eyes.
"Hi." My hands are shaking where they're gripping her waist. "This is—you're—I don't—"
"Just kiss me," she says, but it sounds like begging. "Please. I need—just kiss me."
So I do.
And it's overwhelming—her mouth soft and desperate, her body pressed against mine, her hands sliding into my hair and gripping almost too hard. My scent shifts without permission, going dark and woodsmoke-y.
She makes a pleased sound—almost a growl—and starts moving. Small rolls of her hips, finding a rhythm, and I try to focus on kissing her, on not thinking about how good it feels, on lasting more than ten seconds—
I can feel the dampness of her slick soaking through both our jeans, the sweet honey scent of it overwhelming every other thought. And oh god, my knot is starting to swell. I can feel it pressing against the denim, uncomfortable and insistent and completely out of my control.
But she shifts the angle and suddenly the friction is perfect and I'm gripping her waist trying to slow her down but she's not slowing, she's speeding up, grinding harder, more desperate—
"Seth—" Her voice breaks, goes high and breathy. Her eyes go wide. "Oh god, I can feel—is that your—"
She comes first.
Her whole body goes taut in my lap, a gasp catching in her throat as she trembles through it.
The feel of my knot swelling against her through the denim, the scent of her satisfaction exploding around us—sweet and thick and satisfied—and the sight of her, the feel of her pulsing against me, the sound of my name on her lips—
I'm gone.
"Bea—" I gasp against her mouth. "I'm going to—I can't—"
And I come hard and fast, completely out of control. In my jeans. After maybe two minutes of grinding while she's still shaking through her own orgasm.
Pleasure slams through me, wave after wave, my hands tightening on her waist as I fall apart.
It takes way too long to realize what just happened. That I just—that we barely even—and my knot is still swollen in my jeans, uncomfortable and obvious.
Oh god.
"I'm sorry." The words tumble out as soon as I can speak. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—that wasn't—two minutes—and my knot—I'm sorry—"
"Hey." She's pulling back, and I can't look at her. Still breathing hard, still trembling. "Seth, look at me."
"I can't." My face is on fire. Everything is burning. "I just—we barely—and I only lasted—"
"Seth." Her fingers under my chin, gentle but insistent. "Look at me."
I force myself to meet her eyes, bracing for disappointment.
But her expression is soft. Satisfied. Pupils still blown wide, a flush on her cheeks, breathing hard.
"Do you know how hot that was?" she says.
I blink. "What?"
"I'm serious." She's practically glowing. "I came, Seth. You made me come. In a truck. From grinding. That was—" She laughs breathlessly. "That was incredible."
"But I only lasted two minutes—"
"And I came in less than that." Her scent is thick with satisfaction.
"Pre-heat makes everything more intense.
And you—" She touches my face. "You were exactly what I needed.
Honest and desperate and so into me you couldn't hold back.
Your knot started swelling and I just—" She breaks off, flushed. "That was really hot."
"I—what—but I still only lasted two minutes—"
"So did I." She strokes my jaw. "Seth, we both came. Fast. Because we wanted each other that badly. How is that not amazing?"
"You're really okay with this?"
"I'm better than okay." She kisses me softly, still breathless. "I just came in your truck, Seth. I'm very okay with this."
"Are you okay?" I ask quietly. "You're shaking."
"Everything feels really intense right now. Your scent is everywhere and I don't want to leave this truck." Her voice is muffled against my neck. "God, listen to me. I sound insane."
"You sound like you're going into heat. It's okay."
"My heat's coming soon," she says. "I can feel it. Another few days, maybe. Everything's too much. This is my life now. Just walking around feeling like I'm going to crawl out of my skin. Super fun."
"We'll be ready. All three of us. Together."
"Promise?"
"Promise." I press a kiss to her temple. "You won't go through it alone."
She lifts her head to look at me. "Even though you're terrified?"
"Especially because I'm terrified." I manage a weak smile. "Means it matters."
She touches my face gently. "You're going to be amazing. Even if we both come in two minutes again."
"Bea—"
"What? I'm just saying, the bar is set at mutual orgasms. That's actually pretty good for a first time."
"We should head back," she says reluctantly. "Before my family sends out a search party. And you probably need to change before—" She glances down, biting her lip.
"Yeah." I'm definitely going to the station first. "Probably a good idea."
She climbs off my lap carefully, settling back into her seat. I immediately miss her weight, her warmth.
I start the engine with hands that are still slightly shaky. The drive back is quiet, her hand linked with mine across the console.
When I drop her at her parents' house, she lingers in the doorway.
"Seth?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." Her voice is soft. "For being exactly who you are. For not trying to be some smooth alpha who has all the moves. For being nervous and sweet and honest." She pauses. "And for making me come in your truck. That was new."
"Bea—"
"I'm serious!" But she's grinning now. "Best first date ever. Even with the horn incident."
"Glad the horn incident didn't ruin it."
"Are you kidding? That was my favorite part." She leans over and kisses me one more time. "You made me feel normal. Like maybe going into heat and losing my mind isn't the end of the world. Like you'll still be here even when I'm a disaster."
"Always," I promise. "Even when you're a disaster. Especially then."
She's out of the truck before I can respond, jogging up to her door. She turns back to wave, and even in the porch light I can see her smile.
I sit there for a long moment after she goes inside.
My phone buzzes.
Pack Chat
River: How'd it go?
I stare at the message. How do I even answer that?
Me: Good. Really good. She said she trusts us.
That's true. Everything else—the embarrassing parts—can stay between me and Bea.
Grayson: Her heat's close. Could be days.
River: Then we better be ready.
Me: We will be. Together.
I pull away from the curb, heading to the station to change.
My face is still hot thinking about what happened, but underneath the embarrassment is something else.
Happiness.
Because Bea saw me at my most awkward, most inexperienced, most pathetic—and she didn't laugh. Didn't judge.
She called it perfect.
And maybe—just maybe—this whole thing is going to work out after all.