CHAPTER FOURTEEN - BIRDIE #2
Colt groans, his head tipped back to show the long line of his neck. “Damn, you’re ruthless, Omega.” He runs a trembling hand through his hair and gives a ragged laugh. “I can’t believe I just came in my goddamn pants!”
I smirk, leaning forward to nuzzle the soft skin along his jaw. Undiluted alpha, if it was rolled in sunshine and sprinkled in chocolate.
He peeks up at me through heavy lids. “This is some crazy chemistry, Baggage. You just sucked the smooth operator right out of me…”
About as smooth as sandpaper, since he did just come in his pants.
I hold his hooded gaze as I slide a hand between our damp bodies.
I don’t stop until I’m under his waistband and holding his cock, his denim eyes blowing wide as I cover my palm in his release.
I pull back, his cum glistening on my palm, and even before I raise it to my lips, I can smell his warm, earthy flavor.
“Hold up, Birdie. I’ll grab a washcloth…”
He’s too slow, or I’m too eager, because he’s still staring at me with wide eyes as I take my first tentative taste.
Musk curls over my tongue, but it’s drenched in Colt’s scent, like sunshine-wrapped bedsheets, and I moan in appreciation.
Colt’s breath punches out of him as he watches me lick my palm clean.
“Holy shit, Omega. Are you trying to make me come again?”
It’s a tempting thought, but I’m distracted by the slow, spreading warmth filling my mouth, the tense muscles of my throat giving way. Oh, God. I didn’t realize how much pain I was holding back, and I slump over Colt’s lap as Reeve’s device is lulled into submission.
“Hey, Baggage,” the alpha under me murmurs in a soothing voice. “What’s up? You feeling sleepy? You want to cuddle?”
I would normally sneer at the suggestion, but my head bobs against his shoulder. My bones feel like they’ve liquified, and Colt’s so warm, and he smells so good…
I’m only vaguely aware of him stretching us out together, his knee threaded through mine and his arm looped over my hip as he pulls me close.
“Hey,” he murmurs quietly in my ear, “not like I’m keeping score or anything, but I owe you one, okay? Soon as you’re ready, my tongue will be between your thighs faster than you can scream my name.”
I think I’m smiling, although that could just be my lips relaxing along with every other part of me.
Because sleep is pulling me under, and I don’t have the heart to fight it.
Not when a purr is tickling the back of my throat, and Colt is murmuring, “Pillow time, yeah? Damn, but I like your pillows, Baggage...”
I jerk awake, my eyes widening with horror as I take in Colt’s sleeping face beside me. Shit. How the hell did I fall asleep mid-escape?
I twist to look at the window and feel my stomach drop into my toes.
It’s still dark, but for how much longer?
In a couple of hours, Axel might be up, ready to start his gung-ho routine.
Biting back a snarl of frustration, I try to squirm towards the edge of the bed, but Colt’s arm clamps down, holding me in place.
“Birdie?” His eyelashes flutter, a glimmer of ocean blue staring back at me. “Are you leaving?”
Yes! Yes! Yes!
In fact, I’m supposed to already be halfway down the goddamn mountain.
I shake my head and he relaxes, his mouth softening into a drowsy smile. “Good. Just stay. Nice and cozy.”
Nice and cozy? They’re the last words I’d expect out of an alpha’s mouth, but as I glance back at the window, I have to admit, he has a point.
I can feel the bone-deep chill radiating through the glass, and it would be so much easier to just snuggle down and wrap Colt around me like an extra blanket.
Except what happens in the morning? More kisses, more addictive alpha lubrication, and then I find myself on a slippery slope to being bitten, or worse – on my way back to the doctor’s lab.
Fear runs through my body like an electric current, but I force myself to lie still.
I wait for Colt’s breathing to deepen, counting the minutes in the dark until his weight finally settles beside me.
Only then do I ease out from under his arm and inch toward the edge of the mattress.
He mutters in his sleep, and I freeze, one foot halfway to the floor.
His hand flexes against the blanket, searching for my warmth, before he turns over with a sigh and goes still again.
I grab the pillowcase of supplies and tiptoe across the attic to the door.
I open it carefully, wincing at the faint squeak, but Colt doesn’t stir.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I take a last glance around the room, then sneak down to the landing and push open the bathroom door.
I’m used to communal facilities, but as I take in the neat layout with its stone tiles and wooden vanity, I feel like an intruder.
Which is ironic, given what I’m planning to do, but I can’t shake the feeling as I place the pillowcase on the floor and cross to the other door.
I nudge it open a fraction, and as expected, it connects to Colt’s room.
His warm, earthy scent wafts out to me, but I ignore it as I tiptoe to his dresser and quickly remove the rest of his cash.
I hesitate for a second, then scoop a sweater off the floor and lift it to my face.
It’s saturated in his scent, and I scowl at my blown pupils reflected in his dresser mirror.
Don’t the best traps smell the sweetest?
It’s the only explanation for my weird reaction to this pack’s scents.
Before Reeves tossed me onto their doorstep, he must have fucked with my senses.
He could’ve tuned me into them somehow, so that instead of metal and meat, they smell like safety and comfort.
Maybe this whole field experiment isn’t about the alphas, but about the omega who stupidly thought she could escape her fate.
That’s the kind of plot twist that a sick mind like Reeves would love to put to the test.
Shaking off the unsettled feeling crawling up my spine, I retreat to the bathroom and stuff the cash into the pillowcase.
I add the beach picture from my pocket, crumpled from being slept on, then strip out of my borrowed sweats and grab a clean set from the pillowcase.
There’s a towel on the vanity that’s still damp from the last time Colt showered, and I breathe in the scent of sun-warmed soil as I study my reflection.
My pupils are blown wide, and my hair looks muddy under the bathroom lights.
Even with a hint of color in my cheeks, I look pale and flat, and when I step into the sweats, they feel as rough as sandpaper against my scrapes and scars.
Look what they’ve done to you, Omega.
I wait for the familiar flash of fury, but as I study the raw patches on my collarbones, all I feel is tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting back. What’s the point when I always end up right back where I started?
The point, I remind my sallow face, is to make them pay for everything they take, even if it’s only a fraction of the pain they dole out. My designation might be soft, but I’ll never let anyone say that I bowed to them without a fight.
Gritting my teeth, I pull the rest of the clothes on, then dig out the socks and boots.
As expected, they’re a little big, but it’s startling how good it feels to slip my feet into their warmth.
I add Colt’s sweater last of all, then grab the rest of the supplies and creep out of the bathroom.
I take a calming breath as I grip the bannister, then sneak downstairs.
My heart is thudding in my chest, but it goes into overdrive as I step into the living area and find Axel sitting at the kitchen table.
He has a cup of coffee in front of him, but his rifle is nowhere in sight.
I take that in a moment before I register the complete lack of surprise in his eyes.
“You’re up early, Birdie. Planning on going somewhere? ”