Chapter Eight – Redd
The others didn’t tell me they were going to make excuses to leave the apartment and thereby leave me alone with Dulcie practically the moment she arrived.
We have all the food we need to cook her dinner tonight, plus cook her three full meals tomorrow.
We’d planned, since we’d moved in here a few days early.
I know why they did it, of course. I’m not stupid.
This omega is my scent match, and yet I’m still…
out of it. Awkward. Uneasy. I’m eager and happy to have her here, don’t get me wrong, but the gravity of it all makes me feel like every little thing I say, everything I do, has the power to change the world.
Or at least slingshot our relationship to the stars.
That’s not the kind of pressure I’m used to dealing with, let me just say. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin and find someplace quiet to relax and focus on my breathing.
All I manage to say is, “So…”
And Dulcie is my echo when she says, “So.”
We stare at each other after that, neither one of us saying anything more. There’s so much I’d like to say, so much I’d like to do—rush over to her, pull her onto my lap, and bury my nose in the crook of her neck and breathe her in. Memorize that sweet fruity scent and get lost in it.
But I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve done things with Lev when feeling extra horny, but that’s different. That’s not this.
“I, um…” Man, I cannot formulate full sentences at this rate. Would I ever be able to function when close to her? It’s like she pulls at my sanity, makes me feel like I’m losing my mind, although some might argue I never had my full mind to begin with.
She sets down the two things she’s holding, Delilah’s card and a key to the apartment, then stands. A few seconds later, she’s standing directly in front of me, her head tilted back, her dark eyes gazing up at me.
Such wide, pretty eyes. They pull me in without even trying. If I was speechless before, I’m damn well mute now.
“You don’t have to be so nervous,” she whispers. “It’s okay. This is… new for us both.” Her words are comforting, just what I need to hear, and as she says them, my shoulders relax and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
I let out a deep sigh. “I want—” Whatever I’m going to say next gets caught in my throat. All I can do is stare down at her, stare down at her and wish I was someone else, someone who could easily take matters into his own hands. Be the alpha she surely needs me to be.
Her mate. Her scent match. Her everything.
Dulcie doesn’t let me off the hook. She asks, “What do you want?”
Again, I start to say I want, but I stop myself short because there are so many ways I could answer that particular question of hers. I want everything. I want it all. I want to know what it’s like to never stop, to dive so deep inside her I’ll never be able to disentangle myself from her again.
I want to touch her, to kiss her, to feel her warmth seeping into me as the seconds pass by, for time to stretch on toward infinity as we find everything it is we need inside each other. So many things I want, and yet I’m not articulate enough to voice any of it.
So, instead, I settle for saying, “I want to hold you.”
Crap. Was that lame to say? It probably was. I should duck and run out of this room now, give her some space and let her unpack in peace without pushing myself on her. Things would happen naturally between us; there was no point in trying to rush any of this.
She is our omega now. We are on no one’s timeline but our own.
She blushes at that, an adorable pink color rising in her cheeks. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her blush, and it won’t be the last. In fact, I can safely assume that bringing out that color on her skin will become something I enjoy soon enough.
To my shock, she has an answer for me: “Okay.” The single word is spoken so gently I hardly hear it, but I do, and the moment she says it, she bats her eyelashes at me in a way that makes me go near feral inside.
I reach for her hand, tentative even though I shouldn’t be, and weave my fingers through hers.
The moment my hand touches hers, the very instant my fingers graze hers, all the worries in my head fade.
Nothing matters anymore. Nothing at all matters to me besides this girl and the two packmates who left us alone to give us some privacy.
Dulcie doesn’t pull back or stop me. The only thing she continues to do is gaze up at me and wait for me to take the lead.
Time to nut up or shut up.
Hand in hand, I bring us toward the bed, where we climb onto it carefully.
We don’t get under the sheets; we sit against the headboard, with pillows as cushions behind our backs.
I have to let go of her hand so we can get into a good cuddling position.
I lift my arm and let her scoot against me, underneath said arm, and only when she’s comfortable do I lower that arm and hold onto her.
She rests her head upon my chest, and I wonder if she can hear how fast my heart is beating.
I’ve been drawn to omegas before, of course—any unmated alpha is—but not at all like this.
The level with which she pulls me in is indescribable, unimaginable.
Holding her, feeling her warmth though the fabric of my shirt…
it’s enough to calm me down, to keep me rooted in reality, to make me feel whole.
Normal, even. How insane is that?
Dulcie sets a hand on my lower chest, and for a little while, we sit there in silence. Eventually she whispers, “I was really nervous about today.”
“I was, too.”
“At the same time, though, I wasn’t. It’s the weirdest thing.” She angles her head up at me, and I meet those warm, chocolatey brown eyes. “I thought we’d never see each other again after what happened at the mixer.” She bites her bottom lip. “I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Me, too,” I admit. “I think I would’ve lost my mind if I never got to see you again.” I close my eyes. “But, if you decided you didn’t want to meet us, I would have respected your decision. I was rude that night.”
“It’s okay. We were both having a hard time at the mixer.
” When I opened my eyes, I found her still gazing up at me.
What she said next would’ve knocked me off my feet if I wasn’t already off them: “Let’s start new.
I don’t want to keep thinking about that night.
I just want…” She trailed off, much like I did earlier.
The positions are reversed just like that, and I ask her, “What do you want?”
Dulcie’s hand on my lower chest tightens, gripping my shirt tightly. “I want you to kiss me.” As the words leave her, she blushes again, and I’m too entranced by those words to fully appreciate the color in her cheeks.
She wants me to kiss her? I can do that. I can definitely do that.
I have to move positions slightly, but neither of us complain about it.
My movements are slow, deliberate, but soon enough I’m laying down beside her, my hand cupping her face as I sweep some of her hair behind her ear.
Her eyes are half-lidded slits as she waits for me to finish closing the distance between our mouths.
Would this be her first kiss? I imagine it is, because the thought of any other guy besides Monroe and Lev kissing her fills me with a fire I’m not used to.
I realize it then: I would do anything to protect this girl. I would defend her against any and everything. No matter how hard I have to work for the rest of my life, she’ll never know hardship again, nor will our kids—but that’s getting way ahead of myself.
My eyes close as I bring my lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.
My hand sweeps back from her cheek, tangling in her hair as the kiss deepens.
It’s a cautious embrace, at first, as I think both of us initially struggle with accepting it and giving it our all.
And then, just like that, it’s like a switch is flipped in us both.
The kiss turns harder, fiercer, more passionate, deeper.
Her lips part, and it’s as if my tongue has a mind of its own; it slips past her lips and collides with hers as my blood is instantly set aflame.
I started this kiss laying on my side, but somehow I end up on top of her, pinning her lithe body down with mine as we lose ourselves in what would only be our first kiss of countless.
If she smells good, she tastes even better. Those lips of hers are supple and delicious, the kind of lips I can easily imagine roaming over every inch of my body. A kiss like this can change destinies.
She moans into the kiss, and the smell of something sweet in the air accompanies that moan—and she pulls her mouth off mine, panting and looking guilty. Or maybe embarrassed.
It takes me a few moments to comprehend why the air suddenly smells so good.
Hint: it’s not because I’m close to her.
Well, yes and no. It’s her sugared strawberry scent times ten.
Her slick. She goes to hide her face behind her hands as she tries to mutter an apology to me, like her slick is something to be sorry about.
“Don’t be sorry,” I whisper to her, riding cloud nine as I inhale her in the air. Even through her clothes, I can smell her so much I can practically taste her. That scent travels right through me, goes right to my cock, which was already hardening due to the kiss.
Now? That thing is rock hard. No denying that.
I pull her hands from her face, not letting her hide from me when I say, “You smell fucking amazing, Dulcie.” I bury my nose against her neck, combining the sweetness in the air to the scent of her skin, and I’m buzzed. I’m in heaven. I’m lost in paradise.
“I should…” She pauses, swallowing hard. “…clean myself up.”
“No.” The word leaves me quickly as my inner alpha rumbles. My chest vibrates with a sound similar to a purr, and I let my inner alpha take control of me when I add, “If anyone’s going to clean you up, it should be me. Can I taste you, mate?”