Chapter 9
Harper
My eyes couldn't leave the damn mirror.
I stood in the bathroom, knowing it was entirely too late. My fingers, trembling, ran over the bruises on my body where Knox's hands had gripped too hard. There were even bite marks trailing along the ridge of my shoulders.
And the claiming mark! God, the fucking claiming mark was vivid and unmistakable against my neck. Just below my ear, were interlocking punctures, a dark red ring, that was going to pucker up into a scar.
"Fuck," I whispered, my voice hoarse. It had to be from all the begging I'd done. Especially when he'd fucked me for a third time.
"You okay in there?" Knox called through the door.
I jumped and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself like armor.
"I'm fine," I answered.
I heard him take a breath. "Harper..." he started.
Yanking open the door, I met the sight of him and instantly regretted it. "I said I'm fine," I repeated firmly.
He stood there shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, looking like every bad decision I'd ever wanted to make. His hair was messy from my fingers, and I could see my nail marks down his back in the hallway mirror.
"We need to talk," I said.
He offered me a small smile. "Agreed."
I held up a hand as if to stop whatever he thought this was about to turn into. "This can't happen again."
His smile faltered and his jaw tightened immediately. "It already happened. We're bonded," he stated.
Sucking in a breath, I stared up at him. "Bonds can be broken," I said.
"Harper..." he protested softly.
I wanted to be anywhere but under Knox's gaze. "The heat's over. We can be rational now," I insisted.
"Rational?" He laughed, dark and incredulous. "You think what happened last night had anything to do with rational?"
"It was biology. Nothing more," I said flatly.
"Bullshit," he shot back.
I pushed past him, needing space, but the second I did, my nostrils flared. The smell of us was all over the fucking suite. The air hung thick with the smell of pine and vanilla and I felt myself feeling horny as scenes of the previous night flashed in my head.
Glancing over my shoulder, I looked at him. "Knox, I'm the team doctor. You're the player I'm supposed to be treating."
"Treating?" He followed me into the living room. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Don't be crude," I warned.
"Crude? You want to talk about crude?" he challenged. "Because last night when you begged me to eat your pussy..."
"Stop," I demanded.
"When you screamed my name so loud the walls were about to come down around us," he continued, his voice rising.
"Knox!" I shouted.
His face had become flushed and angry looking. "When you came so hard you nearly blacked out!" he finished.
I whirled on him. "Yes, fine! We fucked. We fucked all night. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," he replied dryly.
"This is my career!" I cried out.
He shrugged. "This is our lives!"
We stood there, breathing hard, the space between us electric. Even now, even with my body sore and exhausted, I wanted him. My scent betrayed me, sweetening with arousal.
His nostrils flared. "You want me. Right now. Even while you're pushing me away," he observed.
"That's the bond. It's not real," I protested.
"Felt pretty fucking real when you were clawing my back," he countered.
"Knox..." I started.
"Felt real when you begged me to claim you harder," he added.
Heat flooded my face. "I was in heat. Not thinking clearly," I defended.
"You were thinking clear enough when you said you'd wanted me since the first day," he pointed out.
Denial began to build, "I didn't..."
"You did. Right before you came the third time," he reminded me.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. A text from Mark Richards had come through: Whole hotel's talking about the noise from your floor last night. Everything okay?
The blood drained from my face.
"What?" Knox moved closer, concern in his voice.
I showed him the text. His expression darkened.
"They heard us," I whispered. "Everyone heard us."
"So?" Knox shrugged his shoulders.
"So?" I stared at him, wanting to slap the shit out of him. "My reputation is ruined. No one will take me seriously now."
"Fuck them!" he exclaimed.
"Easy for you to say! You're not the Omega who just proved every stereotype right," I shot back.
"What stereotype?" he asked.
"That omegas can't control ourselves. That we're ruled by our hormones. That we'll spread our legs for any Alpha who looks our way in the hopes of being claimed," I explained bitterly.
Knox's eyes darkened as he stalked toward me, each step erasing inches between us until his chest pressed against mine.
His fingers curled around my waist, hot through the thin towel.
When his mouth crashed down, my protest died somewhere between my brain and lips.
The taste of him gave hints of coffee and cinnamon and something wild flooded my senses as my fingers found their way up his neck and into his hair, nails scraping his scalp, tugging him impossibly closer.
"Stop doing that," I gasped when we broke apart.
"Doing what?" he asked innocently.
My eyes rolled. "Kissing me to win arguments."
He raised a brow. "Is it working?"
Yes, I thought before replying. "No."
His hand cupped my face, thumb tracing my jaw. "Your scent spikes every time I touch you," he murmured.
Dismissively, I sighed, "Biological response."
"Your pupils dilate," he continued.
"Residual hormones," I countered.
"You produced slick," he stated bluntly.
I jerked back. "You can't just say things like that!"
"Why? It's true," he said simply.
"Because we need boundaries!" I insisted.
"We're bonded, Harper. We don't get boundaries anymore," he declared.
A knock interrupted us and voice called out, "Room service!"
I darted into the bedroom, clutching my towel, heart hammering against my ribs. The door clicked shut behind me, but the thin walls did nothing to muffle Knox's deep voice in the hallway or the snickering response that followed.
"Rough night?" I heard the employee asked, voice dripping with knowing.
"Leave the cart," Knox said curtly.
The employee fix their mouth to say something else, "Must've been some heat. Sounded like..."
The door slammed with enough force to rattle the paintings on the wall. I pressed my palms against my eyes until colorful stars bloomed in the darkness.
Everyone knew.
By tonight, the whole team would know.
By tomorrow, the league.
"Harper," Knox called from the bedroom doorway.
"Don't," I warned.
"You need to eat," he said gently.
"I need you to leave me alone," I replied.
"I can feel your panic through the bond," he stated.
"Then you know why space would be good," I pointed out.
Knox was every bit an alpha predator as he stalked towards me, the carpet beneath his bare feet silencing any noise. "Space won't fix this," he said.
"This doesn't need fixing. It needs ending," I insisted.
"You don't mean that," he said softly.
"I do," I maintained.
Knox stopped just a breath away and the heat that came rolling off his body nearly seared my skin through the thin towel. I was going up in flames, slick starting to pool between my legs. The omega in me wanted to present myself, to beg him.
"Your body says otherwise," he murmured.
I offered a weak ass protest,"My body's confused.”
"Your body knows exactly what it wants." His fingers ghosted over the claiming mark, a smirk inching on his perfect face. "Who it belongs to.”
A shiver rolled down my spine. "We can't base decisions on physical responses."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because it's not sustainable!" I exclaimed.
"Feels pretty sustainable." He pressed closer, and I could feel his arousal against my stomach. "Feels like I could do this forever," he said.
"Knox..." I started.
"Tell me you don't want me," he challenged.
"I..." I began.
"Look me in the eyes and tell me last night was just heat," he demanded.
I met his gaze, prepared to lie. But the words wouldn't come. His eyes were dark, intense, full of the same need coursing through me.
"I can't," I whispered.
"Why?" he pressed.
"Because it wasn't just heat," I admitted.
His hands framed my face. "Finally, some honesty," he said with satisfaction.
"But it doesn't change anything," I insisted.
"It changes everything," he countered.
"My career..." I started.
"We'll figure it out," he promised.
"Your suspension..." I continued.
"Worth it," he said without hesitation.
"The team..." I tried to protest again.
"Harper," he interrupted, his thumb brushing my lips. "Stop thinking."
A confession rolled off my tongue like I was talking to my priest offering me salvation, "I can't stop thinking! That's the problem. When you touch me, I can't think. When you're near me, I make terrible decisions.”
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like this," I said.
I pulled him down for another kiss, desperate and needy. He growled, lifting me easily, pressing me against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist automatically.
"This is what I mean," I gasped as he kissed down my throat. "We have no control."
"I don't want control," he said against my skin.
"Knox..." I protested.
Another knock interrupted us as if the cruel hands of fate were some how at work. "Dr. Graves? Coach Sullivan needs to see you both. Immediately," someone called through the door.
We froze. Knox's hands tightened on my thighs.
"Dr. Graves?" the unknown voice asked.
"Five minutes," Knox called back.
Footsteps retreated. He lowered me slowly, neither of us breaking eye contact.
"We're fucked," I said.
"Probably," he agreed.
"Sullivan knows," I stated.
"Definitely," he confirmed.
I swallowed some air, and nearly choked. "This could end both our careers."
"Maybe." Knox leaned down and kissed me once more, soft and sure. "Still worth it," he said.
"You're insane," I told him.
"About you? Yes," he admitted.
I stared at him, this violent, impossible Alpha who'd shattered my carefully controlled life in one night. Who'd claimed me. Who'd ruined me for anyone else.
"I still don't think this can work," I said honestly.
"But?" he prompted.
"But apparently my body doesn't care what I think," I admitted reluctantly.
He smiled, dangerous and satisfied. "Good enough for now."