17. Noah #2
She meets my eyes with flushed cheeks, blown pupils, and her breath hitches when I lean in close.
So damn responsive.
"Hannah," my voice is serious as I look into her eyes, "your scent is the godsdamn best thing I've ever scented in my life.
If I went through the rest of my life smelling nothing but sweet, juicy peaches and warm, intoxicating brown sugar, I'd die a happy man.
You never have to apologize for your scent on things.
If I have it my way, your smell, your taste, your essence, will be covering me, every morning, every afternoon, and every evening. "
Her scent grows even stronger, and she lets out a little sigh as she scents my growing arousal. I need to pull back before I do something I'll get my ass kicked for. Like kiss and fuck her five minutes after meeting her.
But she needs to know. She needs to know that they aren't staying away because it's what they want. She needs to know how much we all desire her.
Crave her.
Need her.
I can see the moment her omega preens under my attention, when her cheeks redden even further but she gives me a shy little smile. I can't help but run my thumb over her bottom lip, murmuring, "Good girl," without thinking, and there's that fucking perfume again.
Groaning, I lean back, dropping my thumb. "Come on princess. I didn't come here to get both of us all hot and bothered."
She surprises me by laughing, breaking the tension of the moment. "I have a feeling that would have happened whether you came here for it or not."
A grin tugs at my lips as I walk to her kitchen and place my bag of snacks on the counter.
We pilfer through the snacks, settling on the couch and passing a packet of Oreos back and forth.
We talk about anything and everything. I tell her about how I moved in with Austin's family when we were in middle school.
How my parents cared more about their drugs than their own kid and eventually got busted for selling.
Best thing to ever happen to me though. Mama Angie made me feel like I was a part of the family when I never had one before.
Austin didn't let me retreat in on myself, always including me with his friends and defending the "city kid" from the country boy bullies of middle and high school.
I was still a hard kid, but I don't think about what would have happened to me if I had been placed with one of those foster families that are only in it for a paycheck.
"Your family sounds wonderful," she says wistfully. "I was nine when I moved in with my step-sisters and…and well, they still don't like me." She frowns, looking pensive for a moment.
"Do you have any biological siblings?" I ask, already knowing the answer. Kieran Beckham, age thirty one. Construction worker. Packless, but not for a lack of effort. Seems like the trait runs in the family.
"I do. Kieran. He's the best. I had Nana too, though she wasn't really my grandmother…"
She tells me about her Nana, who, while not biologically related to her, was her grandmother in every sense of the word. How she left her everything and now her step-sisters, who never gave two shits about Sylvie Pearson, are suing her to get it back.
"It's not even about the money, you know?
" She sighs and leans into me. My breath catches in my throat and I hold it, afraid she'll realize what she's doing and straighten up if I make any sudden movements.
"It was her last fucking wish. I don't even care if I'm the one on the receiving end of the money at this point, I just don't want them to have it. "
"You could always let them win, and then their bank accounts could mysteriously drain into an untraceable, off-shore account, free to do with as you please."
She leans back and looks at me as if she can't quite believe what I just said. "That can't be legal," she says on a shocked laugh.
"I tend to stay in that gray area." I tell her truthfully.
"Sometimes, the law sucks, and a little justice is required.
Sometimes, the law has too much red tape, and they need a little help getting evidence.
Sometimes, people piss me off and find their financials were suddenly donated to a children's shelter or somewhere equally important. "
"Do you ever use your powers for evil?" She teases, leaning in and giving me a smile that makes my cold, dead, heart melt right out of my chest.
"Not evil," I say lightly, "but I've definitely used them for self-serving interests. Looking you up, for instance. When Austin came home from the bar all those months ago with a dazed look on his face, I had to know who put it there."
I'm testing the waters. Austin won't tell me what happened between them all those months ago, but maybe she will.
She covers her face, and I feel like maybe that was not the time to bring it up. "Dazed? Oh my gods. If anything, he was probably just dumbstruck by the level of stupidity one omega can have."
Gently, I pry her hands from her face to reveal the beet red cheeks underneath. "No, princess. He was gone for you. Obsessed. He made you cupcakes when he heard you might be at Titus' party."
Her plush lips part slightly, confusion lining her features. "He did? But I…" she shakes her head, "I guess I'll have to bring it up at some point."
Unable to ignore my instincts any longer, I grab her from the couch. She lets out a little surprised squeak as I settle her onto my lap, and a rusty purr rattles in my chest. "We all want you, princess." I reassure her, rubbing a hand up and down her back as she relaxes into me.
"You don't call me princess because you think I'm spoiled, do you?" Her voice is quiet, and I hate how small she's making herself.
"What? No," I say vehemently, leaning my head down so I can look into her eyes.
"I call you princess because you're fucking royalty in my eyes, and I'm a devoted servant.
You command me as you wish. I'll be your attack dog.
I'll slay your enemies. I'll bring you your fucking step-sister's metaphorical head on a metaphorical platter.
I call you princess because all you have to do is snap your fingers and I'll roll over like a damn dog.
Don't underestimate the power you hold over us, baby. All of us."
Before I can register what's happening, she's pushing up from me, but not to get off.
No, she's turning so she can put a leg on either of my lap and straddle me.
Her lips meet mine in a frenzied kiss, her hands on the side of my face.
I groan into her mouth as she opens for me, dipping her tongue, knowing I'm never going to be able to forget the feeling of her clothed pussy slightly grinding over my jean-covered cock.
My hands snake around her so I can palm her ass, my fingers squeezing the pliable flesh gently and making her whimper.
Fuck.
It doesn't go any further, though. For a minute, we're just like two teenagers with the house to themselves for the first time. Exploring each other's mouths and bodies with our tongues and hands.
I could get drunk off the taste of her.
I don't know how long we sit there, her gently rocking over my erection but not pushing any further. What I do know is that she's going to have to be the one who breaks this kiss, because I am going to take what I can get as long as she's willing to give it to me.
When she does pull back, we're both breathing hard like we ran a marathon or some shit. She presses her forehead to mine, and I remove a hand from her ass, gently grasping her neck before tilting her face so I can press one last kiss against her lips.
She's like putty under my touch, and when I release her, she blinks a few times. "I…um…it's getting late. And I'm not trying to rush things. If you stay here much longer, I'll…"
"Invite me into your nest?" I supply helpfully, and she laughs, gently smacking my shoulder. I'm glad we've moved on from the blushing portion of the evening. As adorable as it is, I want her to be nothing but comfortable around me.
I steal one last kiss on my way out the door, and though my alpha rages at me for leaving our mate behind, I know it's for the best.
For now.
We have a lot to prove to Hannah Beckham, especially once she finds out about Charlie, and I have a few ideas on how to do it.