Chapter 9
My phone rings just as we’re leaving class, startling Caspian.
He looks around like he can’t figure out where the noise is coming from.
I pull the device out of my pocket and wave it in the air, then accept the call without really looking, mostly because I want to show him how it works.
The more time I spend with Caspian the more I’m convinced he’s really not from around here.
I’ve had the most ridiculous ideas flitting through my mind, I even stayed up late researching alien sightings last night.
“Why haven’t you been answering my calls, Madison,” my mother says by way of greeting.
Great. I should have looked at the caller ID.
“Hi, mom.” Everything in me deflates as I prepare for the onslaught. We’ve reached my car, and this time Caspian gets right in.
“Don’t hi mom me! First, you don’t return my calls, then I hear from Branson that you’re still moving forward with your doctorate. At least tell me you dropped that ridiculous thesis idea. The lost city of Ocearus is a myth, not a respectable academic pursuit.”
My mother would know. The woman has three doctorates and a Nobel Prize in literature.
It’s a lot to live up to. Her expectations for me were never that high, but she’s made it very clear that there are only two acceptable paths for me to take.
Either settle down with a respectable, intelligent, ideally wealthy pack.
Or become so well renowned on my own that she can justify my unbonded status to her friends.
With the phone wedged between my shoulder and my ear, I circle around to the driver’s side and get in the car.
“Ocearus isn’t a myth, mom.”
Caspian perks up. I feel bad that he had to sit through that lecture—the worst Dr. Anderson has ever given—but I couldn’t leave him at home alone. The bond separation nearly made me sick when I went to get Thai last night.
“Hogwash! Even if it did exist, you’ll never find it.
You’ll end up the laughing stock of the academic world like your aunt.
I won’t have it. You’re coming to dinner with your father and I on Friday night, so we can talk some sense into you.
Eight o’clock. Le Petit Palais. And don’t wear those scent blockers.
” I can practically hear her nose wrinkling.
“You know how your father hates not being able to scent someone.”
I sigh into the phone, but she’s already hung up.
“Sorry about that.” I toss my cell on the console between the seats and pull out of the parking lot.
“Would… you like to… talk about it?” His English has improved remarkably even since last night, but he still speaks slowly like he’s trying to come up with the right words.
“No. I really don’t want to talk. Let’s just go get you some proper clothes.”
The only things I have that would fit him are from my ex-pack, and there’s no way I want to see my mate in anything that touched those assholes.
Which is why he’s wearing my clothes and looks absolutely ridiculous.
I’m surprised Dr. Anderson didn’t comment on the getup.
He definitely gave Caspian a condescending look.
Personally, I still think he looks hot. I don’t know how a guy like him can pull off leggings, but he’s making it work. I have to force my eyes away from the very noticeable bulge between his legs to focus on the road.
Caspian is quiet on the drive, and my mind feels like it’s playing a ping pong match.
Thoughts of Caspian and my mom and my dissertation bouncing off each other as quickly as the car wheels spin.
And then, there’s Dr. Anderson. What was with him this morning?
He looked rough. I mean, the man’s always attractive, but he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink last night.
I’ve never seen him so disheveled. And he’s definitely never gotten curt with a student before.
I could practically feel the anger radiating off him when I asked if Caspian could sit in on the class.
It’s not an unusual request, people audit classes or visit all the time.
I could have taken some bond leave, but I don’t want to pause my research.
And last night when Dr. Anderson was upset about my supposed lack of suppressants?
What gives him the right to act like that anyway?
I wasn’t even sure the man liked me much less cared about what went on in my personal life.
He almost acted jealous, but that’s ridiculous.
No matter how much I daydream about that man seeing me as an attractive woman worthy of being desired, it’s not gonna happen.
He’s my professor. He doesn’t see me that way.
A large hand comes to rest on my thigh, jerking me back to the present. My knuckles are white with how hard I’m squeezing the steering wheel. I hadn’t noticed. Caspian is now looking at me, head tilted to the side like a curious puppy.
“Are you… okay?” Genuine care and concern flows through the bond, and my death grip loosens.
I sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
Luckily the next strip mall has the store we’re looking for, ABO Mart. It’s nothing special, just one of those big box stores, but it should have everything we need in one stop. Since Caspian has quite literally nothing, it’s what I can afford for now.
Pulling into the parking lot, I park as close to the entrance as I can. I don’t mind a little walk, but Caspian is still unsteady on his feet, and I’m not sure how he’ll do over longer distances. Shopping can be a marathon sometimes.
Once parked, I pop out of the car and go around to let my mate out of the other door. He hasn’t quite figured out that you need to pull the handle and push simultaneously. His hand fits smoothly into mine and a sense of contentment fills me. Whether it's his or mine, I’m not sure. Possibly both.
We haven’t even done anything special. My ex-pack—if I can even call them that—never would have gone shopping with me for anything. They had other people to do that for them.
A tug on my arm has me looking back at Caspian, who’s frozen, looking at the automatic sliding door. Okay, yeah, if the car windows shocked him, I imagine this is ten times that. I push reassurance at him through the bond, and he tentatively follows me in.
This is where I usually shop, so it lost its luster a long time ago, but not for Caspian.
“Okay, let’s get you some new threads.” Caspian looks at me, confused. “Uh, new clothes,” I amend. “Like, pants and shirts and stuff that’ll fit you. Maybe some shoes that aren’t my too-small flip flops.” He follows my finger as I point to his nearly-bare feet.
Taking his hand again, I grab a cart and tug him toward the men’s section. I’m gonna guess he's a large, so I snag a few plain tee-shirts and shorts, then head to the dressing room. Luckily this isn’t one of those stores with an attendant so I find an open door and usher him in.
“Try these on to make sure they fit, please.” I hand him the clothing and step back. He looks confused for a moment or maybe hurt, but then grabs my arm and tugs me into the room with him before shutting the door.
“I want you here, starfish,” he says simply before pulling off his shirt.
I can’t help but ogle his lean, muscular chest. When my eyes lift back to his, I swear the air sparks around us. His gaze goes heavy lidded, pupils blown wide. Before I know what’s happening, I’m pressed against the mirror, his lips crashing to mine.
Apart from him eating me out like I was his favorite meal last night, and our brief moment in the cave, we haven’t done much more than cuddle and hold hands.
But there’s constantly a low simmer of lust in the bond that never seems to dissipate.
Now, as he kisses me, it rises and boils, unable to be contained anymore.
I want to give in and see where it goes, but I force myself to lean away from him. He chases me with his lips.
“We shouldn’t… mmph… do this… mmph… here,” I try to protest between kisses, but I’m already soaking my panties in slick.
He nips my bottom lip and trails kisses down my neck, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my shorts as his tongue traces his bond mark. “Let me, starfish,” Caspian growls. “Please.”
Maybe a stronger omega would be able to resist, but I’ve never claimed to be that girl. He’s my bonded mate, and I’m just as desperate for him as he is for me.
I widen my stance, opening so he can access my pussy easier.
He takes the opportunity, slipping two fingers into my core and finding my sweet spot instantaneously.
How is he so good at that? After only one night of fooling around, he knows my body better than any man ever has before.
Within seconds, I’m already climbing toward a release.
I bite his shoulder to stifle my moans. A third finger enters the mix, and the stretch sends me over the edge far too quickly, washing away all the stress of the conversation with my mom, and my dissertation, and the weirdness with Dr. Anderson.
Caspian lets me ride out my orgasm on his fingers before pulling them out of me and licking my arousal off them like it’s his favorite treat.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” I mutter.
Caspian gets a wicked gleam in his eye. “Hot?”
Oh shit, I told him yesterday that one meaning for hot was sexy stuff. He spins me quickly toward the mirror, and I’m forced to brace both hands against it to keep from stumbling and making a fool of myself. My legs are jelly after that orgasm he yanked out of me.
Hips press against mine, his obvious erection grinding into my ass. It doesn’t matter that I just came, I’m still desperate and needy. I want to make him feel that good, too. Better, even.
When he slips my shorts down to my thighs, I’m too lost to the haze to protest about where we are, instead arching my back and pushing my backside toward him in silent request. He’s got the leggings down around his knees within seconds.
The head of his thick cock glides up and down my slit, spreading my slick and rubbing against my clit on each pass.
He notches himself at my entrance, but instead of sliding in, he just stays there.
When I open my eyes to see what’s stopping him, I connect with his heated gaze in the mirror.
I nod, pushing back to take him inside me an inch, never breaking eye contact.
I don’t care if our first time is in a department store dressing room. I want this. I want him. Now.
He works his way into my body with shallow strokes, stretching me to my limit at this angle until his hips are flush with mine.
I can’t stop watching him—us—in the mirror. He draws back, then pumps deep inside me again, and it takes everything in me not to whimper aloud. His hands cover mine on the mirror, and he starts fucking me in earnest.
The sounds of my slick as he thrusts are obscene enough that anyone walking by would be able to guess exactly what we’re doing.
Knowing that sends a thrill through me, and I clench down on his cock, making his hips stutter.
When his knot brushes my entrance, I wiggle one hand free and reach back, pushing on his abs.
“No knot. Not here.” I’m breathless, but Caspian seems to understand, thrusting deep and grinding his knot against my clit, but not pushing it inside me.
When I feel him start to thicken, I pull off his shaft, spinning and dropping to my knees.
My mouth covers the head of his cock and one hand begins to pump him quickly, the other reaching between my legs to rub at my swollen clit.
It isn’t long before his hot cum washes over my tongue, the taste of limes and honey sending me into the abyss of bliss as well.
When the haze clears, reality comes crashing back in.
Holy fuck. Did we just do that? We could have gotten in serious trouble.
In a flash, I’m back on my feet, pulling up my shorts and putting his cock back into his pants—my leggings.
I grab his discarded shirt and throw it at him, scooping up the clothing he was supposed to try on, deciding to just buy all of it and get the hell out of here.
We can’t stay here smelling like sex. I glance in the mirror and realize I don’t just smell like sex, I look thoroughly ravished, too.
Fuck it, they make online shopping for a reason.