Chapter 11 #2
“That I like all the other shit on this list…?” Bird grins.
“No one has bought me my favorite things before, and it’s been years since I’ve eaten them.
As a Hotel Omega, I ate with the rest of the staff, and our food was more like porridge.
We were always hungry. This is amazing. You’re the best Alpha provider of treats. ”
“You say that as banter, but I am the best.” I blink when Bird throws himself onto an olive, woolen blanket from the bed, which he must have draped on the floor. I peer down at him. “What are you doing?”
Bird makes himself more comfortable on the blanket, which I realize now is also stacked with the bed’s pillows. He starts pulling the food out of the bag and arranging the treats onto the blanket.
He glances at me now with an edge of shyness.
“In summer, some of the guest packs would excitedly take their bonded Omegas for picnics in the beautiful forests around my town. They weren’t allowed to take me with them, although a few ones did try and ask if they could.
I always wondered what it would be like.
I thought it’d be nice to experience that, you know? ”
I smile, sliding off the bed to sit cross-legged next to Bird.
I shrug off my coat and throw it over the pillows.
“I’ve never been on a picnic either. I read about them though in a book my brother wrote.
This dashing Alpha took his Omega on one in Central Park.
They had their first kiss under the azure sky.
To me, a kiss like that gives off spectator-sport levels of PDA.
Even the park bench would have been blushing.
But Mars insists that it would have made the readers swoon. ”
“Not you?”
“I don’t know. Was taking his Omega on a simple picnic enough to earn his love?”
“You don’t need to earn love.” When Bird holds up a pear to my mouth, I take a crisp bite, which is loud in the quiet of the room. “It’s just something someone feels for you.”
I chew the sweet pear thoughtfully. “What do they feel? How do they know?”
Bird ducks his head, and his cheeks flush. “It’s…I mean…you just know.”
I cock my head. “Like we know that we’re scent matched?”
Bird takes a hurried bite of the pear, and I watch as he slowly chews and swallows.
“It’s different for everyone, Ro. For some people, they’re all in.
They see their Alpha…their scent match…and they just know.
And other people need to experience this deep emotional connection before they’re ready for love.
Others, can take pleasure out of sex and love but don’t need any of the romantic shit.
” My ears perk up at that. Huh, maybe that’s me.
“And some people are sort of the opposite. They don’t need the sex beyond the ruts and heats, but they’re all in on the romance.
I saw every variation when I worked at the hotel. ”
I pull my legs up to my chin and hug my arms around them.
Worry tugs at me.
“Am I not romantic enough for you?” I blurt.
Bird’s head shoots up. “You’re perfect. Also, you show your love for me in a hundred ways every day. Look at this feast. You remembered every food that I like and you bought it for me. You’ve treasured me more than anyone has.”
My shoulders relax.
I sprawl out on the blanket. “Is that why you built this…?”
“Blanket nest.” Bird nods.
“Here.” I pick up a cracker and hold it out to him. “We seem to have got this the wrong way around. I’m meant to be handfeeding you.”
“Hmm.” Bird’s eyes twinkle. “I like it both ways.”
So do I.
I narrow my eyes. “Here, Little Bird.”
Bird pushes himself up onto his knees in front of me.
When I reach out with my free hand to stroke his cheek, he pushes into my touch like he always does, as if he doesn’t know that my hands have been soaked in blood.
His deep, rumbling purr vibrates through the bedroom.
I raise the cracker to Bird’s lips.
He slowly nibbles it, until his soft lips brush against my fingers.
He licks my fingers, slowly and deliberately.
Handfeeding also feeds my inner Alpha.
I rumble a satisfied growl. My pupils dilate.
Bird presses a final kiss to the tips of my fingers, before sitting back.
“May I ask you for something?” Bird’s eyes light with sudden excitement.
Wary, I eye him.
What the hell is he going to ask for?
With Bird, I’ve come to realize that it could be anything from cheese on his cracker next time to being tied to the bed by our winter scarfs.
“Uh-huh,” I reply, guardedly.
“Will you do another magic trick for me?”
He sits back on his heels.
I stare at him.
On the journey here, when Bird and I were starving and freezing in the back of the freight train, I tried to distract both of us by doing as many magic tricks as I could with almost no props.
It was hardly a show.
Only my brother has seen my magic before.
Mars would look at me with the same wide-eyed amazement like I hung the moon, begging me to show him my new tricks like I was truly magical.
Maybe part of him believed that I was.
I didn’t think that I would find anyone in the world who looked at me in the same way.
I shrug. “Why would I put on a show for a thief?”
Bird pulls back from me in outrage. “We both stole that shit from the campers.”
“I’m not talking about the frat Alphas. Haven’t you taken something from me?”
“Only your heart.”
I roll my eyes. “Turn out your pockets.”
Bird scowls, grabbing a cracker to throw at me. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Then you won’t mind turning out your pockets.”
Grumbling, Bird thrusts his hand into his pocket. “You’re going to owe me the biggest, groveling apology on your knees when…”
He trails off.
I savor the look of shock on his face.
It’s my favorite part of any trick.
Slowly, Bird pulls out his hand, holding a new pack of cards in it. “T-t-this…wasn’t there. W-where did it come from? How the fuck did you…? When did you…?”
“A magician doesn’t reveal their tricks. But that, my merry outlaw, is the new pack of cards that I bought from the shop.” I hold out my hand. “You’d better give it back if you want me to show you a trick.”
Bird drops the pack onto my palm.
He gazes at me in awe. “You’re incredible, Ro.”
Why is my throat tight?
I hurriedly slip the cards out of the pack and shuffle them.
But Bird stills my hand. “I need to kiss you now.”
He leans over, kissing me gently.
I drop the cards onto the blanket.
“Think of a card,” I murmur against his lips, deepening the kiss.
He wants a magic trick. I’ll give him one.
His tongue twines with mine, and he moans.
Then he murmurs, “Queen of Hearts.”
I smile against his lips. “Look in the back pocket of your pants.”
He pulls back from me, scrabbling to reach into his pocket.
Then with a look of wonder, he pulls out the Queen of Hearts card, which I slipped there before he kissed me.
Bird kisses me again in reward. “My Alpha is magic.”
His vanilla cookie scent becomes even sweeter. His happiness is like sunbursts through the bond.
The Queen of Hearts is the second highest card that people guess.
It was an easy trick because with all our talk of love and romance, it was the most likely bet.
Magic is about assessing risks and odds, then whether your hand can be faster than someone else’s eye.
Mine is.
It’s not much different than my job as an assassin.
I snatch Bird by the shoulders and shove him back into the pillows of his blanket nest. His scent is driving me wild, combined with the joy lighting through the bond.
The stimulation is nothing like the shadows that I have lived in my entire life.
“And how will you serve your Queen of Hearts?” I demand.
“However she wishes.” Bird’s chest is rising and falling, but the smile on the edges of his lips is playful. “My soul is hers to command. Let me live or die on her mercy and serve her on my knees.”
I grab him by his long curls.
My eyes burn. “You’re not dying, Little Bird. How many times do I need to say that?”
“Order noted.” He arches his eyebrow hopefully. “But I can still serve you on my knees, yeah?”
“Acceptable.” I stand, loving the way that my Omega looks, sprawled out in a mess beneath me.
Then I stroll to the bed, facing away from Bird, before sliding down my jeans and panties.
I’m not putting on a show for Bird.
It’s efficient.
My core is throbbing too much for his tongue to draw this out. Yet Bird still sucks in his breath like he’s just witnessed the unveiling of a work of art, rather than my ass.
I’m not used to feeling desired.
I don’t hate it.
I kick off my boots, before peeling off my socks. My lips twitch, before I hurl my socks over my shoulder.
“Hey,” Bird protests.
Bullseye.
My socks must have hit Bird square in the face. I haven’t lost my edge.
I force the smile from my face, before I coldly turn and sit on the edge of the bed.
I am a queen, after all.
I click my fingers, pointing at the spot between my splayed legs. “Serve me.”
Bird holds my socks in his hands, looking like I have already ravished him. He throws the socks down, before pushing himself onto his hands and knees and crawling with a seductive swing of his hips to kneel between my thighs.
I swallow.
I never felt like this about any of the other Hotel Omegas, with whom I spent my ruts.
Why do I feel like there are butterflies in my stomach, every time that Bird gives me that half-hooded look?
I struggle to keep my cool expression, but my high cheekbones are painted in pink.
“May I touch you?” Bird whispers like I truly am so far above him that it would be a sacrilege.
“How will you pleasure me otherwise, Omega?” I try for bored, but I am already panting.
When Bird rests one of his hands on the sensitive skin of my upper thigh, my breath hitches.
He traces gentle circles, before following the tingling caress with gentle licks.
I claw my fingers into the bedding to force myself not to grab him by the hair and move his mouth roughly onto my throbbing pussy, using him to bring me pleasure like a toy.
This isn’t about need, or at least, not only that.
It’s about connection and that is much more difficult for me to handle.