Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
VIOLET
T wo soft knocks pull me from sleep.
“Violet, you okay?” Faedra’s soft voice filters through the door.
An arm tightens around my waist and a body tenses against my back.
Last night washes over me, one long memory that has my body singing with arousal and yet aching in all the right places at the same time. Jasper’s lips press into my neck, his quiet chuckle a vibration against my skin.
“I’m fine,” I call out, not wanting to figure out how to get enough clothing on before it becomes suspiciously awkward for my best friend.
There’s a long pause. “Does this mean we’re not getting breakfast together?”
Oh shit. I’d forgotten in the midst of figuring out all the baggage with Jasper last night that I’d promised to go out this morning with Faedra. I sit up, cursing, and Jasper fucking laughs , not even trying for subtlety. I smack his arm, leveling him with a glare, but he doesn’t even look embarrassed, his grin wide and his posture relaxed as he rolls onto his back.
I can hear Faedra laughing through the door now, too. “I’ll see you later, Vi. Have fun.”
“Sounds good,” I say, trying for at least a modicum of dignity.
I’ve never once brought a hook-up back to our place. The fact that it’s happening now, only a few days before final move out, is incredibly ironic. At least it was with one of my matched pack and not a random stranger, right?
The front door closes a minute later, and then I’m turning toward Jasper, tossing my pillow at him as he laughs again, the sound so bright and full it pulls a smile from me, too.
“You didn’t have to make it so obvious,” I say.
He shrugs and sits up, the blanket dropping dangerously low on his hips.
“Faedra’s not oblivious,” he murmurs. “When you weren’t awake and ready to go, I’m sure she figured out I stayed.”
I tilt my head. “How do you know that would be what clued her in?”
He rolls his eyes. “Because you are the most punctual person I’ve ever met. If you’re the one running late, then there’s something wrong, either with the situation or your outfit.” He tilts his head toward the door. “And if I know that after not seeing you for four years, then I guarantee your best friend does, too.”
My cheeks heat, and he laughs again, reaching for me. His lips are soft, and I sink into him, letting him distract me from, well, everything else. The blanket falls lower, and holy crap I want to suck his dick. It lays hard and long against his hip, large enough that my fingers struggle to close around it. He stutters a gasp as I touch him, licking my lips in that universally understood question.
He groans and nods.
The moment I have my lips around the head, my tongue flicking across the top, his hands bury in my hair, tight enough I know his unspoken question. I pop off, letting my lips smack, and his hips thrust up.
“Let me enjoy it,” I say, smirking, and he groans.
He drops his head back, letting his hands fall from my hair. “Fuck, I knew I’d regret that last night.”
It takes another half an hour before we’re dressed and figuring out breakfast in the living room. He taps something into his phone.
“You have a kitchenette but not a private bathroom?” he asks, running his hands through his hair as he drops onto the couch. I scoff and grab a mug from the cabinet before turning on the electric kettle.
“It’s literally two doors down,” I say, pulling out my French Press.
Jasper laughs. “Not the point. How are we supposed to have hot morning-after sex if the bathroom isn’t private?”
My blood heats at the casual question, and I spin around, grabbing the counter to keep from getting dizzy. That small smirk is back, a relaxed feel about him I haven’t seen since the video call last week. Something soft and foreign bubbles in my chest at his trusting me enough to let down his defenses.
“Well, it’s not something I’ve had to worry about up to this point,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s something you just adapt to. And this one is the least busy of them in the building. It’s not really any worse than sharing a bathroom with roommates.”
His gaze flicks up to mine, surprise lighting them.
“What?” I glance down at the simple set of leggings and hoodie I threw on after we finally managed to drag ourselves out of my room half an hour ago. “Is there something wrong with my clothes?”
“Your outfit is fine, love,” Jasper says. When I glance back up at him, my brows furrowed, he’s halfway across the small room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “What do you mean you haven’t had to worry about a date of yours needing to use the shared bathroom?”
“That’s not what I said,” I mutter, my cheeks flaring with heat.
I turn away from him and mess with the coffee, pouring the water even though it’s not quite boiling. His hand is soft but unrelenting as he cups my chin and forces me to look over at him, his body a wall of heat at my side. His eyes are intense, the easy laughter gone from them, their blue depths searching me so thoroughly I’m nearly positive he can see all the way to my fucking soul.
“You never brought someone back here?” The question is quiet but fervent.
I blow out my breath and try to break his hold. We might have found common ground last night, but this is too much for me to reveal in a single twenty-four hour period, no matter who he might be to me. His hold tightens, his hand slipping from my chin to my throat, his thumb and finger finding the small spots where my blood heats faster than I can control. His eyebrow rises as my scent explodes around us, betraying my arousal, but I force myself to remain impassive.
When the silence stretches between us, he crowds me into the counter, seamlessly moving us until his hips press into my belly.
“I’ll give you a truth for a truth,” he murmurs. Lightning shoots down my fucking spine, my knees weakening at the rasp of arousal in his voice and his dick pressing into me.
“You first, then,” I whisper.
He nods. “I haven’t touched a woman. Not since you.”
My surprise is even stronger than my arousal, rushing through me in one great wave.
“What?” I can’t keep the question from falling from my lips.
He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tightening the smallest bit on my pulse points. Fuck me. Honeysuckle grows stronger around us both, and he smiles, his eyes lighting with a mischievousness I’ve never seen before. When the hell did he learn to do things like this ?
“Tell me, Violet,” he murmurs, dropping until our lips barely brush. “You never brought someone here?”
I shake my head, my body trembling under his touch. “N-no.”
Fuck me. Even my voice shakes.
He breathes deeply for a heartbeat, his eyes fluttering closed. “Why?”
“You first,” I mutter.
“Because every time I tried, all I could think and feel and hear was you, and it was too painful.” His response is immediate. Pain weaves through his voice, so strong, it’s nearly palpable. “You were the last woman I touched. And will be the last one I ever touch again.”
I force myself to swallow, trying to clear the lump in my throat, trying to remember how to talk. Something that feels terrifyingly close to love spreads through my chest until I’m struggling to breathe past it. He drops his hand, running his fingers along my arm until he takes my hand in his confident grasp.
He doesn’t say anything, the silence stretching between us.
“It was never worth someone seeing them with me and then having to deal with my mom,” I admit softly. His mouth brackets with tension, but he doesn’t interrupt me. “There wasn’t ever a person that I felt was it for me. And letting them into my nest was too intimate.”
He groans, low and nearly mournful, and then his lips are on mine and he’s lifting me onto the counter. He steps between my legs, letting his free hand bury in my hair as he runs his tongue along my bottom lip.
“Move in,” he whispers as he pulls away, palming my knees, his chest shuddering with his breathing.
I force another swallow and glance away from him. Logically, I know it’s the best idea. Move out is this weekend, and I really don’t want to have to make that stupid apology that my mom will require for me to access enough money to live on my own in this city. But moving in means giving up a certain amount of control, of having a harder time accessing an escape route if Dominic decides to fight the match.
Will he fight the match? With Jasper and Rylan both approving of it?
Jasper’s gaze grows worried, his lips twisting into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Just that voice,” I manage to whisper. He nods and kisses my forehead, his lips soft and warm.
My eyes catch on the silver chain of his necklace. I trace it before I can think better of it. The pendant pulls free of his shirt collar, falling onto the fabric, and my breath catches in my throat.
It’s a small silver Omega symbol, simple and elegant. No flashy stones, no over-the-top secondary pendants to detract from it. I twist it in my fingers, and a small engraving catches the light. I lean forward, trying to read what it says. Jasper’s hand tightens on me as he runs one palm down my thigh and around my hip. His heart beats so fast, I can see it in his throat.
Until the end of time .
“This was it?” I ask.
He nods, his throat rippling with a swallow. “I don’t really know why I kept it. Or why I wore it.”
“I get that,” I say. I tuck the necklace under his shirt again before running my hands up his neck and twisting my fingers into his hair. “I don’t know why I kept the letter, either. Or your sweatshirt.”
“That’s where it fucking was,” he mutters, a corner of his lips flicking up. “I thought I’d lost my mind when I moved and couldn’t freaking find it.”
My laugh is small, but at least it’s there. “All right.”
He tightens his hold on my hip.
“Move out is this weekend. I can’t do it any time before Friday because of being an RA.”
His kiss is softer this time, more exploratory, but my blood heats just the same. “I’ll work it out with Rylan. You don’t have to worry about any of it, all right?”
Before I can nod, there’s a hard knock at the door.
I mutter a curse and drop from the counter, adjusting my shirt and my hair before opening the door. The same Council intern from last week stands in the threshold, a small envelope in his hand, the same tie tack keeping his tie in place. He doesn’t look quite as uncomfortable this time.
“Miss Fallon,” he says, handing me the envelope. “Same as the last time. If you’d like to file a counter motion to prevent this from happening again, I’ve included my number and can walk you through the steps.”
I murmur a thanks and close the door, trying to ignore Jasper’s strong body behind me.
“What’s that?” he asks, his voice going low and dangerous in a way I’ve never heard from him before.
I rip open the envelope and sigh, holding out the motion without a word of explanation. His frown is deep, his snarl nearly as violent as an Alpha’s.
“What the fuck is wrong with her? How did she even find out?”
I shrug. “I told you how she feels about Betas being in packs.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not me this time.” He holds up the paper so I can read the official reason listed on her motion to have me reassigned again.
Concerns over the safety of the family regarding Dominic Montegue neé Gallo.
My eyebrow ticks up. “What’s so concerning over his family? Are they drug dealers or something?”
It wasn’t the vibe I’d gotten from him, neither in the packet of information or the video call. If anything, he reminded me of the Old Money families my mother practically kissed ass to. Jasper shakes his head.
“He’s part of the mafia,” he says.
Well, that’s certainly not what I expected.