Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Briar
B eing around Easton is not the easy experience it is to be around Keir or Calder. Alphas tend to have an intense energy that warns you they’re natural predators. Easton takes that vibe to the extreme.
I’m just finishing putting the second blanket over the bed when the back of my head starts to sizzle. It makes no sense, but my instincts scream to run or hide. Or run and then hide. I don’t know what they want me to do, because I’m frazzled as hell.
I spin around at the sound of someone moving closer.
It has to be Easton.
No one else is here, and I think he planned it that way.
He holds out a coat-sized box.
“For me?” I hear myself say and grimace.
“My first courting gift. And, yes, for you. There’s no one else I wish to impress.”
My stomach does a weird somersault.
Easton is ridiculously handsome—like the better-judgment-melting kind of hot.
“Well, unless you consider taking Jameson’s life a gift.” Easton chuckles darkly. “If so this makes for my second courting gift.” He moves toward me, gesturing to the bed I just made.
I back away until my knees hit the edge of the mattress.
Easton takes a seat, and I join him. He drops the box in my lap, turning until our knees bump. “I would have had it wrapped if there was time, but things have been hectic.”
His electric smell hits my nostrils, and it takes everything in me not to climb into his lap.
Alpha and omega dynamics are complicated. My instincts are obsessed with him, and they’re busy trying to convince me that Easton and I are highly compatible.
And biologically speaking, I one hundred percent believe that’s true. I’m just not sure we’re a good emotional match. And that makes me feel guilty, because I have no idea why it’s so much easier for me to trust Calder and Keir.
If Easton was truly as awful as I’ve made him out to be in my mind, would those two willingly be around him?
Oh, yeah.
There’s that whole contract Easton forced Keir to sign that could be why the stoic alpha sticks around.
“Are you going to open my courting gift?” Easton asks with an expectant look.
What am I supposed to say?
No ?
Everything in me wants to see what his version of a courting gift looks like. I mean, the packaged version. I already know what the dead body variety looks like.
I shake the top of the box and pull the lid away. The box is heavier than I would expect, but the gift is obscured by tissue paper.
Easton snags the lid and drops it onto the bed next to him. I fold back the thin sheets of tissue paper and bite the inside of my cheek. There’s a small black box on one side, another larger box that takes up most of the left and middle, and some type of clothing underneath.
My eyes fly up to meet Easton’s dark orbs. “Any preferences on what I open first?”
His eyes glimmer, and a smile tugs at his thick lips. “The smaller one.”
I lift it and pop the hinged lid.
It’s a set of black brass knuckles… I think.
“It’s a stainless steel knuckle knife.” He reaches into the package, pulling it free. “You’re small. You’ll never have the weight an alpha will have to throw behind a punch. And that’s okay, we’re going to teach you how to focus on your strengths.” When he grabs my right hand, I drop the box the knuckles came in, and he slips them on. “You slide your thumb along the side here, and…” He guides me to do exactly that, and I jolt when a three or four-inch knife pops out. “A few good hits, you get your opponent to the stage where they’re dazed, and you click out the knife to finish it.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper, twisting the blade in my hand. The knuckle support actually makes it easier to wield, because I don’t have to worry about losing my grip and stabbing myself. “This has to be illegal.”
“The knife itself is fully legal,” he says, shrugging. “The knuckles…not so much. At least, not in Vermont, but again, this is just for training. My hope is that you’ll eventually feel confident enough wielding a blade that you won’t need the safety net of the knuckles.” He pulls the device off my hand and clicks the slide to put away the knife portion. Once he’s done, he places it back inside the box it came in and lifts the other package. “That’s where these come in.” This time, he removes the lid. “I’ll forever be a fan of stainless steel, but that’s just me.”
His fingers wrap around a stretchy piece of black elastic. It almost looks like a garter belt, but it’s actually a thigh holster. I mean, I’m almost positive that’s what it is. He drops it in the larger box and lifts out a small leather roll, which he hands to me.
I don’t even have to pull the string to know what they are. I can see the dagger handles sticking out the top of the roll. But I still tug the bow and unroll the leather.
“There is another sheath on the bottom of the package,” Easton says, clearing his throat. “These are three-and-a-half-inch blades, seven inches with the handle, with single-finger grips to make it easier to pull with only one finger in an emergency.”
My fingers run over the smooth metal, and I find myself smiling. “You’re giving me weapons as courting gifts?”
His pointy canines dig into his lower lip as he brings a hand up, brushing his fingers over my cheek. “I’m going to give you far more than that, love. I intend to give you the confidence and training you’ll need to know that you’ll always be able to protect yourself.” His jaw clenches, but his eyes sparkle. “You’ll be able to take down anyone you view as a threat—even me.”
I drop the leather roll inside the box and reach up, cradling his hand as he still runs his fingers over my cheek. “Thank you, Easton. That means more to me than you know.”
My nostrils flare as I breathe in deep hits of his indescribable scent, and my stomach flutters.
His head ducks closer, and I don’t pull back as his mouth brushes mine. His fingers slide from my cheek into the hair at the base of my skull. I freaking whimper as his tongue darts out, teasing the seam of my lips.
Easton takes full advantage, shoving his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like spearmint gum, and his scent is everywhere. I turn more toward him, letting my hands land on his chest as my fingers dig into the soft material of his T-shirt.
The box disappears from my lap. Easton must be to thank for that, because, a second later, his free hand lands on my hip. He gives me a solid tug, but I’m already in the process of scrambling into his lap.
Our lips lose contact during the move, and I dive for him again as soon as he’s within reach. His low chuckle would normally piss me off, but something about the timbre and the way he clutches me makes me ache to devour him.
The low growl that vibrates out of his chest causes a physical response to echo through my system. My nipples ache, and a wave of cramps pulses through my abdomen. I sob, grinding over his lap, like an omega lost to the fog.
Easton palms the back of my head, taking over the kiss. He’s bossy and demanding, but it soothes my instincts in a way I don’t understand.
It feels a little like he wants to consume me whole, and the scary thing is…
I’d let him.
My skin sizzles. Not with the good kind of ache, either. It feels like I’m burning alive from the inside out.
Abandoning my hold on his chest, I tug at the bottom of my dress in an attempt to pull it off. I didn’t even pick this thing, but it’s what Easton offered up in the rest area bathroom. “Get me out of this dress.” It comes out as a hiss I didn’t know I was capable of producing.
Easton doesn’t hesitate. His massive hands work the back zipper, and he tugs the material over my head. My perfume floods the air, and my vision gets hazy.
That’s a bad sign.
I’ve only experienced this foggy feeling a few times, and everything is fuzzy and muted outside of Easton. His strong jaw clenches as he runs his hands up and down my spine. He didn’t bring me a bra when he dressed me, so we don’t have to worry about removing that, but I would like to get these panties and leggings off immediately.
My tits end up shoved in his face as I push up enough to shove down my underwear and the leggings that are making me feel trapped.
Easton growls, the warmth of his breath sliding over my oversensitive skin. “What the fuck is happening, Briar?”
“I just need you,” I sob, falling against him with how violently I shake my leg to get the pants off.
He finally takes pity on me, helping me out of my bottoms. “Well, I’d like to believe that, but?—”
Once they’re gone, I plant my ass back on his lap and shove my lips to his. He’s more tentative this time, and if I was more coherent, I might recognize that, but as it stands, my brain is functioning at baser level only.
Easton growls, holding me to him in a firm grip that makes my instincts hum. “Are you clear enough to know who I am?” he asks between frantic kisses.
I nod and work my hands down, capturing the bottom of his shirt and tugging it up. My hands slide against his sides, and I manage to get the material pulled up and off him. Tossing it aside, I focus back on his lips, but he stops me with a hand in my hair.
My head snaps back as I try to attack his mouth, and I whine.
“As much as I’ve dreamed of this, I would rather not give you ammunition to fuel your hatred when you’re mentally clear,” he says, tugging painfully at the base of my skull. “Consent is meant to be in place well before waves of heat start for a reason .”
My shoulders tremble, and a wave of cramps racks my system.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me suffering because you’re too altruistic to fuck me when it counts, Easton.” My head shakes. “If you’re not up for the job, call Calder or Keir. I’m sure they won’t have a problem sealing the deal.”
Easton’s pointy canines dig into his lower lip, but his amusement is evident. “You said my name, which is good enough for me. I would warn you to be very careful who you bait.” His hand leaves my hip and lands on my ass in a painful smack that cracks through the air at the same time he yanks the hell out of my hair.
Fire licks across my skin, sending a blissful sizzle in its wake. A moan slips from my lips and slick drips from my core. The scent of my pheromones gets so thick it’s almost unbearable, and although he’s got my neck stretched out at an awkward angle, I still move to work his belt and jeans.
Easton doesn’t stop me, but he does use his hand in my hair as leverage to pull my top half close to his face. He blows a warm breath over my left nipple and bites almost painfully before flicking his tongue over the ache.
There’s no way his jeans aren’t soaked with my slick, and I realize I moved farther down his thighs when I finally get his zipper moving. The last thing I want is a wardrobe malfunction, so I focus all my hazy energy on safely getting his jeans the rest of the way open.
I’m just in the process of appreciating his powerful, tattoo-covered shoulders when the world tilts.
Oh, no.
Nope.
That was actually me.
Easton drops me on the bed, and my tits bounce. He snags the gifts, tossing them to the floor before appraising me with his jeans hanging open. He has a thicker frame than Calder, but he’s not as massive as Keir. His sides are lined in black and gray tattoos that I can’t make out, because my vision is fuzzy, but I can tell they disappear under the waistband of his jeans.
Pain starts in my pelvis, radiating through my whole body. My legs thrash, and I move to push back against the ache. My skin is hot to the touch, which doesn’t make any sense. Shouldn’t my hands be the same temperature?
Easton’s forehead wrinkles, and he curses under his breath, tugging out of his jeans. I’m pretty sure he started commando, but I lose all rational thought as his heavy cock bounces in the air.
My mouth falls, and my head tilts. “What the hell is all that?”