Prologue
BECK
Fuck. What in the hell am I doing?
Apparently ignoring my better judgment and letting my instincts take over.
Smooth, Beck. Real smooth. You and your goddamn savior complex have shit timing.
Her hand squeezes mine as she darts a nervous glance over her shoulder. Big, soulful brown eyes, a light spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, long blonde hair that falls in big waves against her perfectly rounded ass, and curves that I want to follow until I get lost in her.
This woman is dangerous for more reasons than I care to admit.
The sweet scent of apples and cinnamon, like Mama’s homemade apple pie, floats through the air, and the longer I breathe her in, the harder it is to ignore the deep tug that drew me to her in the first place.
I told Kash and Wyatt that I was stopping in for one last drink and would meet them back at the room so we could get some rest before our early morning flight, so I’m sure they’re the reason my phone has been buzzing in my pocket.
I know there will be hell to pay, but one look at the misery buried behind her stoic facade, and I couldn’t walk away.
Something about her calls to me on a soul-deep level, and the second that thought crosses my mind, I understand just how truly fucked I am.
A pint of whiskey dangles from my hand courtesy of a hundred dollar bill slipped to the bartender. Probably not the wisest idea, but something tells me we both might need a little extra help shirking our responsibilities.
She pulls me around the corner and two doors down until she reaches into the low neckline of her tight black dress and pulls a room card out from between her impressive cleavage.
“This is me,” she says softly, a hint of nerves appearing in the sexy timbre of her voice. My eyes trace up her body until they land on hers. “Last chance to back out.”
Stepping into her, I slide my hand down her bare arm, encountering the softest skin I think I’ve ever felt, and sneak the card from her grip. “That should be my line.”
Her eyes shift between mine, and I wonder if she sees the desperate need I’m barely managing to hold back.
“Just one condition.”
“Name it.”
“No bite.”
“Done.”
The second her eyes soften again, my hands reach for her, lifting her up against me as I tap the pad with the card.
The light turns green, the door opens, and then I’m kicking it shut behind us.
The wall hits her back, air whooshing out of her lungs and into my mouth as I finally give in and take what I’ve been dying for.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, knocking my hat off my head as our tongues battle.
She tastes like everything I never wanted, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.
She’s not mine. After tonight, I’ll never see her again.
Her teeth scrape against my lower lip, drawing a growl from my chest.
“Careful, sweetheart. I’ve got teeth too.”
She drags her thumb across my lips. “Too bad they're not for me.”
My Alpha side growls, already way too possessive of the little Omega in my arms.
Pulling us away from the wall, I stalk over to the end of the bed and carefully set her down on those treacherously sexy heels.
In a matter of seconds, I’ve got the zipper at the back of her dress down, but I force myself to step back.
Every inch of her is fucking perfection—large breasts, wide hips that curve into a narrow waist, thick thighs that I want wrapped around my head.
My fingers deftly undo the buttons down my shirt.
“Maybe they’re not, but for tonight, you’re all mine. So, strip for your Alpha, sweetheart.”
There’s a hint of my Alpha bark in the command, and her eyes widen the barest fraction before she eagerly obeys.
Steady hands shimmy the black material down her body until it hits the floor, and she kicks it away with the toe of her shoe.
She’s standing in front of me in a strapless black bra and simple, matching thong.
Shit. How does she just keep getting better?
“Bra and panties too. I want to see every inch of you.”
The bra and panties get tossed aside, and I stand in awe of the utter perfection of the Omega in front of me.
Five-feet-six-inches of fire and grit, with a softness I bet many don’t get to see.
Throw in the heels that do wondrous things for her legs, and Kash and Wyatt would be losing their fucking minds if they could see her now.
With that thought comes a hint of clarity that shoots through the fog of alcohol and instinct. They should be here, but a small part of me doesn’t want to share right now despite never having an issue before. No. I want Rose all to myself if this is the only night we’ll ever have.
“Change your mind?”
My eyes dart to her face, noting the way her head is tilted and her hands have found her naked hips.
“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart. Just trying to decide what I want first.”
“Well, while you contemplate your life choices…” She struts over to where I dropped the bottle of whiskey and bends down, giving me a nice view of her ass.
The cap is unscrewed, and she’s tipping the bottle back before I can get my mind off all the dirty things I want to do to every single hole she’s fucking got.
A couple drops of whiskey slip free from her lip, dripping down her plump tits to her belly.
“Keep that up, handsome, and you’re gonna give me a complex. ”
She’s like no Omega I’ve ever met—bold, daring, sexy—but I don’t miss the hint of insecurity she hides behind the bottle she lifts to her lips again.
I was right. Any Alpha worth their fucking knot would kill to have this woman in their bed and completing their pack. How in the hell is she still single?
When I let the shirt slip off my shoulders, her eyes trail over my chest and down my abs as she licks her lips.
My poor fucking dick is rock solid, pressing against the harsh material of my jeans, and I need relief.
Undoing my belt buckle, I slowly pull it out of the loops and let it fall to the floor.
Her chest is rising and falling as she watches me strip for her, the button popping free at the top of my jeans as the zipper slides down.
“This what you want, sweetheart?”
“It’s a good start,” she quips, hooded eyes meeting mine as a sexy smirk appears on her plush lips.
With graceful strides, she closes the distance between us.
One hand trails up my abs and through the spattering of hair on my chest, lighting a fire in my blood.
“Take it all off, handsome, and let me blow your mind.”
Well, damn. That’s too good of an offer to pass up.
My boots and jeans are tossed across the floor, my hand stroking my aching dick as she watches. Delicate fingers skim down my skin until she traces the slight swell of my knot at my base.
“I should probably tell you that this will be a first for me.”
Shock rushes through me. “Your first…”
“Knot, handsome. Don’t worry. I’m not a virgin.”
I’m both relieved and a little disappointed.
The thought of being her first and last strikes a chord in my heart.
But before I can think too hard on why that is, she’s dropping to her knees in front of me, pouring a small amount of whiskey into her mouth.
Her eyes meet mine, and I have just enough time to think about how fucking stunning they are when her lips close around the head of my dick.
The liquor is cool on my heated skin, and her hum of pleasure as she licks along the veiny underside of my cock is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
When she goes deep, swallowing me down to the knot right along with the whiskey, my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head.
“Holy shit,” I rasp, my head dropping back as my fingers slide through the silky-softness of her hair.
She takes her time, slowly bobbing up and down my length, which is fucking torture.
I don’t even realize my hands have fisted the strands until I’m fucking her mouth with abandon.
Her gag echoes through the otherwise silent room, but she doesn’t stop me.
She just lets me use her as she looks up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks.
My balls draw up tight, my release skirting closer than I’m comfortable with, and I roughly pull her off my dick.
“Maybe I’ll come in your mouth later, but now, I’m gonna return the favor.”
Lifting her up under her arms, I toss her onto the bed.
She releases a surprised giggle, her breasts bouncing and hair fanning out across the plain comforter.
Grabbing the bottle of whiskey from where she placed it on the floor, I crawl onto the bed and hover over her.
She’s tan, not a single speck of pale skin to be found, and for some reason that has a growl rumbling in my chest.
“You keep surprising me, Rose,” I murmur, letting my fingers trail over her belly and dip into the little divot in the center as I kneel between her legs.
She’s warm, a symptom of her oncoming heat, which we probably shouldn’t ignore.
Then she shivers under my touch and I forget anything but how much I want to taste her.
“Now, it’s my turn. Don’t spill a drop.”
“What do you?—”
Raising the bottle, I pour a shot of whiskey right into her belly button. Her moan makes my dick bob, and I lean forward and lap up the smooth liquor like a man dying of thirst.
“Oh god, Beck. That feels so fucking good.”
“Just wait.”
Slipping down the bed, I pour a shot of the amber liquid into my mouth then maintain eye contact as I lower myself to where she’s fucking dripping wet for me.
I inhale her perfume and nearly come undone.
Her scent is so fucking potent, my vision goes a little hazy as lust floods my veins.
I’m usually so in control, never letting my instincts get the better of me, but this sweet little Omega might just break any rigid restraints I’ve managed to retain and send me into a rut.