Bite Me Open #3
She makes a motion for me to close my mouth, and I realize it’s hanging open.
I close my mouth, but I don’t feel embarrassed.
She’s a beautiful woman. I’ve never got to see her lit up like this up close.
She’s not standing still, as per usual. She’s adjusting her clothes and wiping her face and neck, dancing between her feet.
I walk over to her, overcome with the desire to make her be still.
She puts her hand up, though, to stop me.
“Let me fix the tie on your neck. It’s twisted,” I offer.
She tries to fix it herself, then sighs and gives me her back.
The ties aren’t twisted too badly, but I take my time to make them neater and tighter, brushing my knuckles over her warm skin.
It settles her slightly. I love when I can do that.
I press my luck and drag my knuckles down her exposed back.
She shivers in this rising heat and then steps away.
“That’s enough, Cypress.”
I nod and take my sandals off, putting them under the table.
“Hey,” she says quietly. I come closer, and she indicates with a nod where Tortuga and Rodrigo are watching us. “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry about the gun.”
“You tried to kill me.”
She nods, and it’s a relief to have her admit it.
“I’d gotten a concerning email from my mom back home. It enraged me. Set me off. Made me single-minded. I wanted to…I was angry at her and how much they want me back. I’m not going back.”
My heart pounds. I don’t want to be doing this.
I don’t want to play bounty hunter and kidnapper.
Roman’s offer is insane, and what he’s asking me to do is worse.
But as soon as I got to know her enough to realize how awful this is, I also learned that she’ll fucking die if she doesn’t return to her nest.
How can two things be true at the same time?
I want to take her back.
I have to take her back.
I’m being paid to take her back.
But she doesn’t want to, and that matters to me more and more everyday.
Look at her—her hands in tight fists and her shoulders caving in—I can tell she’s still upset about what her mom said. I want to ask what the email said, but if it led to her pointing a gun at me, maybe she needs more time to cool off before talking about it.
“Let’s just get through today.”
She nods, liking that.
“Are you going to try to kill me again?”
“You know, that was the first time I tried to kill anyone. Sorry it had to be you to pop my attempted murder cherry. I think if I do that again, it won’t be you at the other end of the barrel, though.”
Despite her light-hearted joke, she really is being sincere.
She looks down at her red-painted toes contritely.
It doesn’t help that she’s an omega, and alphas have a tendency to forgive them of all sorts of unforgivable things.
I can’t help but be reminded of all the alphas she’s stolen from who often don’t have any animosity against her.
Mostly, they were upset that her actions didn’t mean she liked them.
Steal a man’s Porsche 911, and he may call the cops.
Be an omega who steals an alpha’s Porsche 911, and he may think you’re dating.
“Ok, I get it. I’m just glad no one got hurt. I didn’t hurt you with the gun on your vulva, did I?”
“No, not at all. I was a little concerned about the grease from the metal, so I washed up in the bathroom. But wow, that was…insane.”
She makes me insane.
“You didn’t use your safe word.”
“No, I did not.”
She hands me her glasses—my glasses—and jumps up on her tippy toes to kiss my jaw. By the time my brain is back in my skull, she’s already in the water.
Fucking omegas. They can get away with murder.
I spray my body down with sunscreen then sit at the edge of the pool with my legs in.
She wades around the shallow end. The middle of the pool has a severe drop off to the deep end, and she avoids its edge.
I look out to see if my shot cleared the shore.
That bullet is long gone. Kelya continues paddling around the shallow end.
“Are you going to swim?” I call out to her.
She turns and ignores me. I push off into the water, then do a few laps, careful not to get in her way. I can feel her watching me. I stop near her in the shallow end.
“You’re a swimmer?” she asks.
“Yeah, big time. I love the water.”
She squints at Rodrigo going back into the hotel, leaving Tortuga to watch us from afar. They are suspicious, but it looks like it’s lessening the more we act like a normal couple of travelers.
“Don’t you?”
Kelya won’t meet my eyes and is acting weird. Skittish, which isn’t normal for her. She’s not nervous about the hotel staff. It’s something else.
“Wait, do you not know how to swim?”
Her face falls dramatically.
“Kelya! You were going to steal a boat and you don’t know how to swim!” I whisper to her.
“Shhh! God, you’re loud sometimes. If I were worried about going over, I’d wear a vest or something. I’m not an idiot.”
No, she’s not. But still. How does she not know how to swim!
“Every city you’ve been to has been near a body of water. Why are you choosing beachfront locations if you don’t know how to swim?”
She pouts and turns away, so I grab her arm and pull her closer to me.
“Want me to teach you?” I whisper.
She taps the water with her palms and considers my offer. My heart pumps wildly, excited to get to share something with her. She’ll never forget me. If either of us survive this.