Chapter 29
Delay Before Gratification
CORIN
Johanna makes me wait all afternoon—and halfway through the evening before we get a chance to talk.
She delights in delay. Every time I approach, she whisks herself in another direction, first pleading the need to focus on business decisions while at the office, about which I can’t complain, since we’ve always done our best to keep work and home separate.
I wade through my own pile of work and keep away from her, despite aching at the distant sound of her voice on the other side of our shared office wall.
Yet, back at the house, she still manages to stay out of reach.
When I’m on one side of the kitchen preparing dinner, she’s on the other.
Instead of sitting next to each other at the table, she takes the far end.
She banishes me to the living room while cleaning up.
At last, with the dishwasher humming away in the distance, we’re both in the same room again; I try to sit next to her on the sofa in the living room, and she shifts to a chair opposite.
Worse, she enlists Anamaria’s help. My daughter oversees the dinner, places at the table, and assigns cleanup duties.
After tidying up, when Johanna claims a need to change into something more comfortable, Anamaria takes undue pleasure in blocking my way when I would’ve followed up the stairs.
Johanna returns in a soft, fuzzy bathrobe over a lacy, pink satin nightgown, showing flashes of leg as she settles back on the sofa.
Anamaria’s quick to settle sideways next to her, leaving no room for me as they chatter away about the possibilities of creating additional structured communities for older singles of any designation.
My patience is in shorter supply than it usual—but two can play at this game.
I match her more comfortable clothing by removing my button-down, leaving only my undershirt.
It’s thin enough that I feel a chill, except when I catch her casting glances my way, thinking I’m not looking.
Her scent also betrays interest, settling decidedly on the sweet side, though with a residual tang.
Anamaria’s laughing silently the whole time, her nose twitching as she scents Johanna then me, and vice-versa. She favors Johanna at the moment, but I know my daughter well enough to offer bait to redirect her.
“Did you enjoy your lunch date?” I ask Johanna in a carefully neutral tone.
She flushes, beautiful shades of pink to red covering her cheeks and spreading down her chest.
“Aunty Jo, you didn’t!” Not a question, a demand. Anamaria whirls and claps her hands in excitement. “Who was it? The delicious Dan? The nummy Nathan?”
I choke a little at the descriptions, glad I’m nowhere on that list. It’s clear she picked up on their interest the other day—hard for an omega to miss the way we all were perfuming, even if Johanna’s beta nose could barely catch any of it.
“It was just lunch with Dan,” Johanna says, casting a narrow-eyed glance my way.
“It’s never just ‘lunch’ when it’s with an old lover.” Anamaria wags a warning finger. “Where did he take you? Any stolen kisses? I need details!”
“He brought a picnic lunch that we ate in the conference room, and it was lovely.” Johanna’s gaze flashes my way as she ignores Anamaria’s second questions, the lack of denial a clear suggestion there were some kisses other than the ones with me.
“I enjoyed catching up with Dan while Corin ate with Nathan.”
My daughter’s focus switches to me; sadly, she’s bribable by both sides. “Dad! Are you dating too? Nathan? For an older alpha, he’s sort of hunky.”
There’s so much right and wrong in her words that I don’t know how to react. No use seeking rescue from Johanna. This is clearly payback for not warning her about lunch today, which was, admittedly, half an oversight—of course, only half, because I feared she’d bolt if she knew.
Johanna sits back and watches, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as Anamaria continues to gush.
“Seriously, Dad, you and he could be so hot together.”
I can’t hold back my shudder, even as I catch the gleam of amusement on Anamaria’s face.
Fortunately, her scent remains light, with only the usual undertone of omega musk.
She’s not turned on at all by Nathan or, worse, the idea of the two of us together.
She’s as bad a tease as Johanna, whom she probably picked up the tendency from.
“But really, Dad,” Anamaria says seriously, sitting straight and staring at me with an earnest expression that tugs on my heart strings, and she knows it. “I’m happy for you, and Bebe and Caity will be, too.”
The notion of Anamaria, at twenty-three, being a voice of age and wisdom has both me and Johanna trying to suppress a sudden burst of amusement. I clench my jaw to keep from chuckling and avoid catching Johanna’s gaze.
Anamaria presses her hands over her heart.
“Even so, we all know you’ve been alone a long time—since even before you split from Mom—so we’re behind you all the way, if you want to get it on with anyone.
” Her nose twitches and she squints at me.
“Just don’t give us any hot and heavy details, and keep the PDA to a minimum, okay? ”
“You refrain from giving me any details of your heats or liaisons, and I’m happy to do the same for you.
” We shake, but I hold her hand an extra moment.
“Also, if you’ll stop describing any potential or actual partners of mine as ‘hunky’ or ‘hot’ or similar terms, I’ll stop calling your usual swains ‘preening pigeons with feathers for brains,’ even if that’s what they are. ”
Much as I love my daughter, and much as I try to escape knowing too much about her sex life, it’s hard to ignore the extent to which she still prioritizes outer appearance, first and foremost in dating.
She makes a face and flounces out of the room.
I turn to Johanna, expecting to find her laughing.
Instead, she’s finally come near enough for me to touch, though I don’t, not yet.
Her arms are crossed over her chest, her head tilted to the side in a fashion that perfectly exposes her bare neck.
I might spend a moment or two noting how lovely it would look with a claiming bite—or three—but let that go the instant she speaks.
“Do you think Nathan’s hunky and hot?” Despite the teasing note in her voice, her eyes watch with an intent gleam.
“For me or for you?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Either. Both.”
“He’s physically attractive, but as important as that is, what’s inside matters more.” Especially after my youthful mistakes. “I don’t know him well enough yet.”
“What do your instincts say?” She inches closer. My skin prickles with her proximity, and I luxuriate in the warmth pouring off her.
I weigh my answer, taking a moment to slip a hand along her arm and stroke her shoulder. My alpha preens as she shivers and swallows hard.
“Anything between him and me will take time,” I say. “We’re alike enough that we may never be lovers.”
It’s hard to tell, of course, since he’s chary about showing dominance, but I suspect we’re so close that the line between fighting and fucking is razor thin.
If we ever truly fight, we may find ourselves fucking—whether or not we consciously choose it—but I’ve had enough dominance fights in my life already, and I suspect he gets more than enough in his job not to look for them in his private life.
The lines on Johanna’s brow suggest disappointment.
“We might become friends, packmates, even play fellows,” I offer, all true.
“Playfellows?” Of course, she’d hook on to that.
“He enjoyed watching you torment me.” My turn to tease her—for her eyes widen and her breath catches in her throat.
But in arousing her, I also snare myself.
I’d been too caught in her toying with me in my office, from the kisses to the gentle caress of my half-hard cock, to notice in the moment.
Nevertheless, I didn’t miss the heavy musk filling my office as she stalked away.
Both Nathan and Dan had enjoyed the sights and sounds.
Our four scents had merged into a thick wave of lust that pounded in my body over the dozen or so minutes it took the air purifiers to dissipate most of it.
A hint of my and Nathan’s scents remained for most of the afternoon.
For all the truths Nathan traded, he shared relatively little about his lost packmates.
Reading between the lines, though, he’d had two—a female alpha and a male beta—and though Johanna and I reverse the designations, he all but admitted enjoying watching us as much as his other lovers.
Voyeurism has never particularly turned me on. Yet, over the past hours, my brain prolonged the effects of her teasing by imagining how it would’ve looked and smelled if she’d done the same with Dan or Nathan while I stood by.
Maybe I’d be more interested in observing if feasting my eyes on people I knew, liked, loved, sharing physical affection with each other. Drink in Johanna’s joy in other ways. Luxuriate in her scent with just enough distance to watch the nuances of her pleasure.
Slipping close enough to sneak an arm around her waist, I admit, “I wouldn’t mind returning the favor.”
“Having him watch you torment me, or watching him and me?” Johanna’s voice remains calm, save for a slight hitch in the middle. Her fragrance strengthens, no sour tinge at all now—just full, bold, tangy sweetness.
“The first? Definitely. The second, at least enough times to test the appeal.” I brush a finger over her lips, then dip in for a kiss long enough to drink her short breaths as her lungs heave, making her breasts shift against my chest. Pulling back mere inches, close enough to touch noses, I ask “Is this payback enough yet?”
She cups my cheek, as she did earlier in the day, and pulls me down for a longer kiss. Her eyes sparkle as she draws away.
“Follow me and see.” Her shoulders and hips sway as she heads for the stairs.