7. Tristan
7
TRISTAN
“Why can I smell honeysuckle?” I ask Tarquin, lounging in the doorway of his office with my arms folded.
“Oh, good, you’re back. Did the Inter-Pack Parliament take your proposal?”
“They did. But don’t deflect. Why does our house smell of that delicious scent? You or, dare I even say it, Dec?”
“Neither,” he replies blandly. “Yet. Does it get to you?”
Does it get to me? My dick is straining against my pants. “It does,” I venture, wondering what the fuck is going on here, and moving forward to drop into the chair across from him. “Who is she?”
Tarquin’s eyes flick up to mine, that familiar coldness giving nothing away. “Her name is Synthia Fuller. She’s a temporary acquisition.”
“Temporary acquisition,” I repeat, eyes narrowed. “What kind of acquisition involves an omega whose scent is currently making my dick rage?”
“Precisely one that will take care of that raging dick… after I’ve had her first.”
“An escort?” I ask slowly.
“Yes. But a special one. Not someone I just picked up off the street.” He frowns and looks a bit shifty.
“How long is she staying?”
“Seven days.”
“Seven days?” I almost laugh. “For an escort? What’s so special about this one that you’re keeping her for a week?”
Tarquin’s expression remains impassive, but there’s something in his eyes I can’t quite read. “I have my reasons.”
“Which are?”
“None of your business, Tristan.” His tone is final, but I know my prime alpha too well. There’s more to this than he’s letting on.
I lean back in the chair, studying him. “How much did you pay her?”
A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. “A million pounds.”
I choke on air. “A million? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Half now, half upon completion of our arrangement.”
“Jesus Christ.” I run my hand through my hair. “What exactly are you buying for that kind of money? Her organs?”
Tarquin’s eyes flash dangerously. “Her time. Her body. Her complete surrender, and her purr.”
Something in his voice makes my skin prickle. I’ve known Tarquin since we were children, and I’ve never heard him speak about any omega this way before.
“Where is she now?” I ask, trying to sound casual despite the lingering scent of honeysuckle making my alpha instincts stir.
“Upstairs. Third door on the right.” Tarquin’s pen scratches against the paper as he signs a document. “And before you get any ideas, she doesn’t know you and Dec will be sharing her. I want to keep it that way until I tell her I want to watch you fuck her. I want to see her response. I want to see if she fights me or surrenders to my requests. I want to test her, push her boundaries until there is nothing left but her complete submission.”
Taking that in, I nod slowly. “Okay. But how long do we wait until you hand her over?”
His gaze meets mine. “She’s really getting to you.”
Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my knees as I stare back at him. “Like no one else. That scent… it’s mine. How. Long?”
“A day, maybe two.”
“Two?” I spit out. “No. You can’t withhold her…” I trail off, knowing he is fucking with me. “A day. No more.”
“Think about all the things you will make her do to you in that time. I want to see both you and Declan make her work for this money.”
It takes me all of two seconds to imagine every single position I want to put her in while I fuck her senseless, tasting her slick, breathing in that scent, knotting inside her and having her… purr.
“Where is Dec anyway?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the honeysuckle scent that seems to be getting stronger by the minute.
“Upstairs with his orders to stay out of her way… for now.” Tarquin doesn’t look up as he continues signing papers. “Which means you have approximately twenty-four hours to control yourself before he is let off his leash and complicates matters.”
I snort. “Complicates matters? That’s putting it mildly.”
Declan has always been the most intense of our pack. Where Tarquin is cold calculation and I prefer seduction, Dec operates on pure, savage instinct. An omega paid to surrender completely will be like throwing petrol on a fire.
“Does she know what she’s really getting into?” I can’t help but ask.
Tarquin finally sets his pen down and meets my gaze directly. “She thinks she does.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“She’s not some innocent, Tristan. She’s a professional. And she’s desperate enough to accept my terms without much negotiation.” A shadow crosses his face. “Though she did have the audacity to demand to see proof of the money before signing anything.”
I laugh. “Smart girl.”
“Hmm.” Tarquin is less than impressed that she doesn’t trust him, but I find I’m liking this mysterious omega more and more. She is baiting him without even realising it. She is unique in that way. It’s going to be fun to see where this all ends up in seven days’ time.
“I’ll see you later,” I murmur as I stand up. I’ll play by Tarquin’s rules for now. But if he doesn’t give me that honeysuckle omega tomorrow, I will take her. The knot at the base of my cock throbs as I follow the scent up the stairs, almost hoping to run into her.
Unfortunately, I don’t.
I slip into my room and flick the TV on quietly as background noise. The silence drowns me. I sit back on the bed and close my eyes, letting the scent surround me as I wait not-so patiently to meet this enigma before I defile her in ways she can only dream about.