Chapter 40 #2
Yet, when I do, little more than a light brush of his heated skin, Dan shivers, his pupils expanding as his irises vanish.
A low growl draws my attention to the corner, where Nathan is scraping the contents of a can into two dishes. He glances my way, and his eyes match Dan’s.
As hunger for that kind of connection flares in me, until I run my tongue over my teeth.
Swallowing, I roll Dan’s sleeve back down, then frown because he doesn’t have anything to protect the wound from the cloth.
But when I ask if he needs a bandage, both he and Nathan shiver again.
“I’ll tend it a few more times. It should be healed by midday.” Nathan sets the dishes down and the cats swarm them. A fishy smell invades the kitchen, and the scent turns my stomach.
My expression or my scent must have betrayed my mixed feelings, because Corin comes up behind me and lays warm hands on my shoulders, bracing me as I lean back against him.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“I want this.” I wave at Dan’s arm, turning away from the cat food and inching closer to the oven.
“But?”
“But,” I agree.
“Breakfast first?” Nathan suggests. “Things usually look a little better on a full stomach”
Good advice, once I get out of smelling range of the cat food—but also, not a great idea because the delay doesn’t give me any more insight.
I eat, or rather nibble and graze on, a pancake while the rest dig in until, finally, Corin grunts and flicks a fingernail against my still half-full glass of smoothie.
“Drink that up, and then, we’ll talk.”
“It’s too pink.” I wrinkle my nose. He added a bunch of strawberries and raspberries when I wasn’t looking.
“You love pink,” Corin points out.
“It looks like blood.” Not completely accurate, but the liquid’s dark ruddy swirls recall memories of blood dripping from the bite on Dan’s arm and Nathan licking it up—an act so much sexier in theory than reality; maybe I’ll find it more arousing if I’m the one being licked?
Corin huffs and snatches the glass. Turning to Nathan and Dan, he says “You have the freedom of the kitchen. Can one of you make this less pink? More yogurt and kale perhaps?”
Standing, he extends his hand in my direction. “Come with me?”
My fingers are cold or his hot as he leads me to the living room. He sits on the sofa and pulls me into his arms, half on his lap. One of the cats glares at us from the other end of the sofa, or glares at me, if not Corin. Then, it huffs and returns to licking its whiskers.
“What’s wrong?” Corin asks.
“I don’t know if I can bite you.” I climb over to sit astride him, bracing my hands on his thighs while his settle on my hips.
“It never really came up with Max. He didn’t care about it—didn’t need it—and, at least for most of the time, didn’t want it either.
” Not that Max and I talked about it often, but his expression the few times the subject came up had made me disinclined to introduce it.
“We’ve lived together for years without a bond.” Corin shrugs. “We can keep doing that.”
“But you want it.”
“Yes.” Intentionally or not, his face hints at how much, and as his fingers tighten on my hips.
“And …” Glancing back at doorway, I see Nathan and Dan hovering there, Dan holding a glass of a green-flecked-with-red liquid. The ease between them is almost palpable. “I want what it brings. I want to know what it means to have a bond.”
“You don’t have to be the one to bite for that,” Corin strokes my waistline with his thumbs.
“But otherwise it won’t be permanent.” I bite my lip enough to feel the pinch, but not to the point of hurt.
He shrugs. “True.”
“Remember, bites don’t usually come out of nowhere.
” Nathan drags an armchair close and sits near enough to rub my shoulder.
“None of us are going to sneak up and bite you while you’re reading or brushing your teeth or sleeping.
Bites usually take place while making love, when you’re already feeling good, and the pain is fleeting. ”
Which I knew, intellectually, and sounds much better than biting out of the blue, but I’m still not sure I can manage my half.
Not to mention, practically speaking, that though I’ve lived with Corin for ages, we’ve only been together a week or less—the same amount of time I’ve been reconnected with Nathan and Dan.
Going on instinct is all very well, and supposedly, most alphas and omegas who pack up as adults do so within a matter of weeks if not days.
Still, for all I was raised in a pack, I’m a beta, and I’ve not let myself follow my instincts for ages.
I’m rocking on Corin’s thighs, half turned on and half scared out of my wits.
Dan sits on the sofa next to Corin and holds the glass near my lips. “Drink—you need something to ground you.”
Holding the glass in shaky hands, I drain it slowly, mouthful by mouthful.
Berries. Yogurt. Ice. Greens. The chill eases the throat I hadn’t realized ached and soothes my stomach.
I set the glass on a side table at the end of the sofa and retreat to the other armchair.
Perched there, I can watch them all at once.
Their perfumes have started to mingle, or maybe I’m just getting used to them. I gain no insight from the aroma each exudes, except that I like the combination of the three—maybe too much, because, without bidding, I say, “I want to try, but maybe not all the way, not yet.”
For three very different men, alphas, they stare back at me with the same bemused expression, then exchange a series of shrugs and head shakes until, at length, they look back.
Corin, as head alpha, has evidently been elected to respond.
“Do you mind explaining that in a little more detail? So we can understand?”
“I want to try being a pack, bonds and everything, but temporarily. It hasn’t even been a week!” Shifting to face Nathan, I stretch out a pleading hand. “You said something about knowing immediately with your mates—did you bite them right off?”
“Renee, yes. As for Lawrence, we barely saw him until his divorce was final, but then, we bit him right in.” Nathan’s lips quirk; something trickles through his bond to Dan, who suddenly sits bolt upright and swallows hard.
“But there was something of a learning curve afterward. We kept tripping over each other until we learned that we still had to talk, that assuming things based on what we felt through the bond tended to lead to hurt feelings and arguments.”
“You’re willing to have temporary bonds?” Dan lifts his arm and touches the cloth over the mark.
“I think so. I’m willing to try—to let you bite me.” That doesn’t unnerve me quite as much anymore, particularly if the biting happens when I’m full of endorphins
“I understand why you’re hesitant to form permanent bonds with me and Dan, at least, I can see your reasons and accept that.” Nathan leans forward, glancing between me and Corin. “But you’ve known Corin for longer, been pack with him, albeit without bonds—”
Corin interrupts. “I don’t need—”
“You don’t need her to bite you back, but you want a permanent bond with her. You’ve wanted it for years.” Nathan shrugs. “Might as well get that out on the table as an incentive.”
“Honesty works better when you’re sharing your own secrets, not other people’s.” Despite his stern tone, Dan’s lips are twitching.
“Enough.” Corin claps his hands. His throat works as he turns to me and shakes his head. “Only bite any of us back when you’re ready.”
Rising from my chair, I look at Corin as I walk back to his side. Really look at him. Drink him in. Smell him. Settle back on his lap and cuddle him.
Instincts war with caution again. I’m leaning toward the cautious side with Nathan and Dan, preferring to wait longer before committing all of me.
Time to lean on the instincts side?
Even before Max’s death, Corin mattered as much to me as Max, in his own way.
Business partner.
Friend.
Beloved.
And now, lover.
“I want to bite you back.” I lay finger across his lips before he can say anything in response.
This close, it’s impossible to miss the way his pupils blow out at the notion.
It doesn’t matter that I can’t smell the full extent of his scent, because it obviously overwhelms Nathan and Dan, and their sharp indrawn breaths suggest he’s exuding lust, or other notes I’ll never notice. “I’ll try.
“But I’m going to need some help.”