Chapter 3
Perry
He’s already looking at me.
That’s what I notice first. Before I see his mask, his shoulders, or how he stands, I realize he’s already facing me. It’s like he sensed me before I sensed him, or maybe we both did at once, turning toward each other as if drawn by the same pull.
His mask is shinier than some, but still blank.
No expression, no details, nothing to read.
Just a dark surface and eyes behind it, fixed on me.
He’s big—taller and broader than the one in the leather mask.
He stands completely still while everything around him moves with the music, the scents, and the crowd.
I should stop walking. I know I should, because I didn’t come here for this person. I came for the warm alpha with the leather mask and patient hands, who’s somewhere behind me, probably wondering what just happened. I should turn around. I should go back.
I keep walking.
Every step closer makes it worse. His scent grows stronger as I get nearer. My body reacts with a kind of hunger. I need more, I need to be closer. My skin is hot, my pants are ruined. I’m so hard that every step hurts, but I keep going because my body refuses to stop.
He moves. Finally, he comes toward me with a purpose that doesn’t seem like a choice. It’s as if we’re both being pulled by the same force. He doesn’t circle or show off like the other alphas I’ve seen here. He just closes the gap between us, like it’s something he has to do right now.
We meet in the middle of the floor. His hand touches my jaw and I flinch—not from pain, but because the contact is overwhelming.
The feel of his fingers on my face sends a shock through my whole body.
His hand is big and warm. His thumb presses into my jaw and tilts my face up, and I let him.
I’m shaking so much I can see it in my hands.
Up close, he smells intense—smoke, iron, and something raw I can’t name.
His scent fills my lungs and my heat surges again, another wave that makes my thighs slippery and my face burn with how obvious it is.
I’m completely undone in the middle of a crowded floor with this stranger’s hand on my face.
His other hand finds my hip and pulls me in.
I go because I have nowhere else to go, and my body is already pressing against him.
My chest is against his, my face tipped up into his palm.
The sound I make when his face nears my neck is new to me, deep and uncontrollable.
I’d be embarrassed if I had any embarrassment left, but I don’t.
All that’s left is want, heat, and his hands on me.
Someone touches my shoulder from behind.
Leather mask. I know it’s him before I turn because I can smell him, the cedar scent that ten minutes ago was the best thing in this room.
His hand is on my shoulder. He’s trying to pull me back toward him, not hard, not aggressive, just a confused attempt to reclaim the omega he thought was his for the night.
His fingers tighten, and there’s a question in his grip.
I can’t answer it. I can’t even turn around.
The black mask’s hand leaves my jaw and reaches past me.
I don’t see what he does, but I don’t think he touches the leather mask.
He just puts his hand out, palm flat, like stopping someone in a hallway, and whatever his scent does is enough.
The hand on my shoulder loosens and falls away.
Leather mask steps back, once, then twice, and the cedar scent fades under the stronger smoke and iron.
My body doesn’t miss it at all. I barely notice it’s gone.
But my brain notices. Underneath the heat, in the small part of me that’s still Perry and not just reacting, something twists.
That was my alpha. My plan. My safe, patient alpha who held me through a knot, got me water, and came back for me like I did for him.
And my body just let him go because this stranger with the black mask smelled better.
I don’t get to sit with that feeling because the black mask’s mouth is at my ear.
“I’ve got you.” Low, rough, barely a voice at all. Three words and I can feel them vibrate through his chest into mine.
His hands are moving. One on the back of my neck, gripping, and one sliding down to my lower back, pressing me against him so I can feel all of him, the heat and the hardness and the size of him through his clothes.
I’m grinding against him before I realize I’m doing it, my hips moving on their own, chasing friction and pressure and relief that isn’t coming because what I need isn’t friction, it’s him inside me, and my body knows that even if my brain is still trying to catch up.
He walks me backward toward the wall, toward one of the platforms at the edge of the floor.
My feet move where he guides them, and I realize I’ve lost my coordination.
The back of my knees hit the platform and I sit.
His hand on my shoulder pushes me down further until I’m lying back on the leather.
He’s over me, his weight between my legs.
My thoughts stop all at once, like someone flipped a switch.
The music and the scents are still there, and somewhere on this floor, the alpha I thought I wanted is watching as the one my body chose pins me down in front of everyone.
My last clear thought before I’m lost in it is: this is going to be so much worse than I planned.
His hands find the button on my pants. I arch up into him, and the wave takes me.