Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
CARYS
“‘Rys,” Billie murmurs. “You’re so beautiful. It’s painful.”
I glance up from the flowers with a frown, flinching at her voice.
We’ve been holed up in my apartment for nearly two hours.
Despite her question of being able to talk, neither of us had said much of anything as we ate.
Afterward, she’d poured a glass of wine while I pulled out the flower press, still not saying a word.
The silence hasn’t gotten any lighter in the time since then, either.
Now, her wine glass is nearly empty where she holds it with a recklessly loose grip, the low light of the living room reflecting off her grown out nails.
Pink dusts her cheeks, and her teeth bite into her lower lip as she traces a flower petal.
“Painful?”
She nods then takes another drink. My eyes catch on the way her throat flexes.
There’s that tug in my belly again, just like I feel with Rhett and Paxton—exactly the same as when I want to reach out and touch them, kiss them, breathe in their scents.
Confusion blends with the slow-burning flame in my stomach and between my thighs.
On instinct, my fingers twitch with the urge to trace the scar on my hip, my body seeking any kind of reassurance right now.
It’s been three days since I made out with him in his car, and I already want to do it again.
Forcing my body still, I shove thoughts of Paxton away, terrified she’ll know I’m thinking about him.
Everything is still too messy, and I can’t stand the thought of her disappearing again.
My chest twists with a stabbing longing I don’t quite understand.
It’s a half-shade lighter than the ache in my soul during the road games when my bed is empty.
Like… like seeing a garland of wisteria when you’ve become accustomed to freesia.
“I’m jealous of him.” The edges of her words are just a bit fuzzy, and her eyes are glassy. “That he knows what your lips feel like. He knows your moans and sighs and… and if you scratch up his shoulders when he’s eating you or if you twist your fingers into his hair instead.”
Nerves fill my throat. I’m not entirely sure which he she means.
I don’t really remember that time with Paxton, just flashes of sensation.
His arm around my waist, his hand holding my knee against his hip as he wedged his knot into me, his teeth as they sank into my hip, the way his warmth cut through the heat’s bone-deep pain.
There wasn’t any kind of slow seduction or exploration. Neither of us were capable of it.
I set the small portfolio of petals on the ground beside me, terrified I’m going to crush the pressed flowers, and shove my trembling hands under my legs. I have no idea what to say. She doesn’t seem bothered by my continued silence, though. She takes another drink of wine.
My eyes catch on the way her lips part around the glass, the way her throat ripples as she swallows, the way her tongue traces her lip after like she’s chasing every last drop.
That lick of flame burns hotter, my pussy clenching around nothing.
My orchid scent blooms around us, overpowering the lingering smells of the pressed flowers. Her nostrils flare.
“For a long time, I wanted to be an Omega so that we would coordinate. So I knew without a doubt that he belonged with me,” she whispers. “But now… now I wish I was an Alpha like him.”
My mouth is so dry. I swallow to try and soothe the sudden ache.
“Why?” I whisper the single word.
Her eyes blaze, the glassiness of her buzz suddenly looking eerily similar to tears.
“So I could scent match with you, too, and not feel all this guilt over wanting you the same way I want him.”
Before the words can truly register, she’s leaning toward me, closing the distance between us in a sudden, clumsy lunge. Her wine sloshes onto my shirt, but she doesn’t seem to notice. In the next breath, her lips are against mine. They’re soft, quietly coaxing without being demanding.
I suck in a gasp.
“Billie…” I whisper. I pull away enough to see her, to try and figure out just exactly what is happening.
Her cheeks are flushed, the glassy haze in her eyes gone, replaced with something I’ve only ever seen with Rhett: desire.
I gently pull the wine glass from her grip, setting it behind me without looking away from her.
I can’t. It’s as if my entire ability to live, to exist, is tied to her gaze locked with my own.
“What are you doing?” I ask. The question falls between us, a pebble dropped in a lake. “Are… why…”
She trails her fingers up my thigh, pulling the hem of my skirt higher and higher. I swallow the half-formed question.
“Do you want to?” she asks. My confusion only deepens. “Because it’s something I’ve thought about since Halloween. I want to know what they know.”
“What’s…” I swallow. “What’s that?”
Her hand flattens on the very top of my thigh, her fingers spreading wide, just brushing where my panties cover my pussy.
“How you taste,” she says without a bit of hesitation. “The sounds you make when someone’s making you come. If you prefer it with toys or without.”
It all clicks into place, what those long stares and fluttering feelings have meant. Some were because of Paxton, yes, but also because of her.
I scent all over again, stronger and bolder than before.
Something like victory flashes in her eyes before she closes the distance between us again.
This time, there’s nothing but hot demand in the feel of her lips and the bite of her teeth.
The wine is a dry bitterness on her tongue as I taste her.
I try and tell her, try to explain my inexperience. “I haven’t ever—”
“Me either.”
Her words shoot right through me. They rob me of rational thought. Her hand twists into my hair, pulling it from the low bun with a casual ease Rhett, for all his careful caresses, has never quite managed.
Her peach scent slowly blends with the orchid before mine completely envelops it.
And then I’m nothing but instinct, letting the desire burning through me lead my movements.
Her shirt’s pulled off a half-minute before my own.
I trace the bond bite on her collarbone, and she freezes for a heartbeat, her eyes wide and her chest heaving.
Then she’s moving again. She manages to unhook my bra before I can try for hers, and then her lips are covering one nipple, pulling it into her mouth. I arch into her with a gasp.
“You’ve never…” The words fall away as she focuses on my other breasts, letting her teeth scrape along the nipple before popping off of it. I hiss as it hardens in the sudden almost-cool air of the apartment.
“No,” she says, running her tongue down my sternum. “I made out with a couple girls in college but never did anything else.”
God, it doesn’t feel like she’s never done any of this before.
Once again, I feel like the young, na?ve girl.
It should probably bother me, but I just sink into the feeling, letting her lead me just like Rhett has.
It settles that Omega nature inside me, trusting someone else with the control in this part of my life.
She flicks both of my nipples with her thumbs, then trace the hardened peaks with one nail.
Goosebumps race across my skin, and I whine, canting my hips to try and find some kind of relief from the growing pressure.
I slowly caress her, feeling every inch of her skin I can reach.
She hums against my skin, adjusting above me, pushing into me until I lean back on my elbows.
“I want to taste you,” she says, slowly licking down my stomach and around my belly button. She glances up at me. It takes me a minute to realize she’s making sure she can, that I’m willing.
“Y-yeah, okay,” I manage to gasp.
She doesn’t take my skirt off, only wedges it up high enough that she can peel my panties down and toss them toward our shirts.
And then she’s biting up my inner thigh, no hesitation in her movements at all, and I practically scream as she licks me, one long swipe of her tongue along all of my pussy and clit.
I twist my hands into her hair as she settles on her forearms, her hands holding my hips to the floor.
Everything bleeds away from me outside of her touch and her tongue and her hair falling against my arms as I press harder into her, driving her faster.
She doesn’t panic, just responds to my wordless urging, taking me to the edge so fast it really should be illegal.
Before I can prep for it, the orgasm detonates, blasting through me and leaving nothing but wreckage behind.
My toes curl, and my fingers dig into her scalp.
I’m moaning and grinding against her face, slick rushing down my thighs and onto her chin.
She slowly pulls away as my frantic movements slow, my mind piecing itself back together.
She rests her head against my right hip, tracing small shapes on the inside of my left thigh.
Her cheeks are flushed, her nipples peaking through the thin fabric of her bra.
I ease onto my elbows, releasing her hair. She raises an eyebrow.
“Your turn,” I say, my voice more steady than I’d expected.
Her throat moves with her heavy swallow. “You don’t have—”
I pull her to me and kiss her, tasting my own slick like I’ve done countless times since Rhett first ate me out.
Her breath catches as I ease her own bra off, my movements more cautious than hers but no less relentless.
Her nipples are pink and stiff. I carefully lower my head, tracing each of them before pulling one into my mouth.
Her breath catches, her hand digging into my thigh hard enough to bruise.
It makes me brave enough to run my tongue lower, down her side and across her hip bone, easing her jeans down her thighs and completely off as I do.
Her breath hitches as I run my tongue along the sensitive line where her thigh meets her pussy.
She doesn’t taste anything like me.A faint bit of peach but mostly the clean taste of skin, like anywhere else on her body if licked over the last few minutes.
I carefully trace her clit. She shudders in a breath, her hands fluttering by her sides.
“Do you?” I ask, trying to be bold like Rhett even as my nerves rise.
Her eyes are wholly glazed when she opens them, slowly focusing on me. “W-what?”
I preen at the unsteadiness of her voice.
“Do you twist your hands into his hair and cut up his scalp?”
Her eyes flair hot, and then her hands are slowly moving over my shoulders in silent answer.
I lower back to her clit and explore her the way Rhett did me, finding every inch of skin and angle of my tongue I can until her nails are scratching up my back, drawing long welts along my sides and down my shoulders.
She arches as she gasps, the sound so quiet I almost miss it from my own heart racing in my ears.
Her entire body locks, and I pull her clit into my mouth, trying to extend the orgasm as long as I can.
Eventually, she relaxes back into the floor, her hands falling away from my shoulders.
I ease back onto my knees as her eyes flutter closed. What are the rules now? Do I clean her up the way Rhett does with me? Am I supposed to say something? Nerves lock my tongue and my legs equally.
After nearly a full minute, she blows out a breath and slowly sits up, casually grabbing her shirt.
There’s tension in her shoulders, though, and in the careful neutrality of her expression.
I stop her with a careful hand on her wrist, the same way I touch Paxton to keep either of us from completely losing our minds.
The thought has a lump rising in my throat that dries out my voice, making it crack.
“You can stay if you want.”
BILLIE
Sunlight spills through the window, pulling me from sleep.
My head aches, reminding me that I’d had two entire glasses of wine on an empty stomach the same day I flew across the country.
The bed is empty, the covers pushed back on the other side, the orchid scent faded but clinging to the fabrics.
I ease onto my elbow, grabbing the shirt I’d intentionally brought in here last night and dropped within reach of the bed.
Carys pads back into her bedroom, a simple navy henley and light wash flare jeans hugging her curves, as I ease the shirt over my head and pull my hair free of the collar.
The entire time, I don’t peel my gaze away from Carys, soaking in every inch of her body.
Her cheeks flush as she catches me staring at her.
“I need to get bookkeeping done,” she says after a full minute. “You’re welcome to stay here if you want. Or we could get lunch or breakfast or…”
She trails off as I shake my head.
“I don’t really want anyone to know I’m back.”
It’s a selfish request all things considered, but I don’t apologize for it.
Being with her vindicated something deep inside me I wish wasn’t there, a piece that takes satisfaction in knowing I’ve gotten to have her, too, while he doesn’t know about it, while he was in another city with only the bond to give him an idea that something was happening.
The rest of me wants to carve that selfish portion out of my chest with a butter knife so the pain keeps it from ever wanting to resurface.
The selfish portion wins.
She stares at me for a long time.
“You want to keep this a secret?” she asks, her voice neutral. She gestures between us, making it clear she means more than just me showing up at the shop last night.
“Yes.”
She breathes deeply and crosses her arms, her knuckles whitening from her grip. Then she nods once, grabs her phone from her nightstand, and walks back to the door of her bedroom. Her fingers fly across the screen.
“I’ll leave the extra key on the kitchen counter.” She looks back at me, her green eyes brighter than the forest in the summertime. “I’m staying at Rhett’s tonight before the long road trip, but you can stay here if you want.”
“All right.”
She soaks me in, her scent surrounding her again. And then she’s gone, the door to her apartment closing behind her with a soft, hesitant click. I drop back against the pillows and cover my face.