Chapter 19
Reid
The last time I was here, Arabella had her thighs wrapped around my head and was screaming for me. That was over a week ago, and I’ve been dying for another taste of her ever since.
“Are you also lost in thought, alpha?” an older woman asks, squinting at me. While her sudden appearance startles me, Toast is more than eager to greet the stranger with butt wiggles and tail wags.
“Um. No?” I frown, not sure what she’s talking about. “I’m here to see a friend.” If you must know, strange old woman.
“A friend, huh.” She crosses her arms over her chest, watching me like she’s attempting to read my mind.
“Yes. Arabella, she’s…uh, I’m sorry, who are you exactly?”
“You must be Reid then.” She taps her chin before grumbling quietly about ‘damn alphas’ and gives Toast a quick ear scratch.
As she turns away, I catch a hint of leather mixed with vanilla.
There’s that fucking scent again. It’s definitely not coming from her. Is it just a coincidence that I’ve picked up on it during our dates and while walking near Arabella’s building?
Either she’s got a stalker or—fuck.
What if I’m not the only alpha she’s dating? We’re not exclusive. I mean, we haven’t exactly defined anything about our relationship other than that we both like each other. A lot. It’s not uncommon for omegas to form packs, and sometimes that means dating several alphas at once.
I should just ask her.
Imagine how embarrassing it would be if I told her I thought she had a leather and vanilla-scented stalker, and it turned out to be her other boyfriend.
Shit.
Am I her boyfriend?
I should have brought flowers. You shouldn’t ask questions like this without flowers. If I hadn’t already knocked on her door, I’d turn back to grab them right now. I’ll get her some after the walk. It’ll be a good excuse to come back and see her again.
Even if she says she’s got several other boyfriends…
I can handle that.
Probably. Definitely. Maybe…
Every doubt I have about my ability to share Arabella evaporates the moment I see her. She’s always beautiful. Doesn’t matter whether she’s wrapped in a bathrobe or in a red dress, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
However, she’s wrapped in nothing but a bed sheet currently, looking like she’s been rolling around in bed.
“Holy—”
My words cut off when her scent hits me fully. Honey and jasmine with hints of orange blossom rock my system, leaving me speechless. Fuck me, she smells sweeter than the slick I tasted between her thighs, somehow even more intoxicating than she normally does.
“Oh no,” she whimpers, licking her lips. “It really is happening,” she says, her voice tainted with a layer of distress. However, the look in her eyes as she watches me is screaming with need, and her scent is working overtime to lure in alphas to her honey trap.
I don’t even register her words, let alone what she meant.
“No, no, no, not yet. It’s too soon. You’d need to take bond-blockers…” She nibbles her bottom lip as I meet her eyes and frown.
“What’s wrong?”
Fuck, I was so focused on the growing hardness in my jeans that I missed her obvious distress.
"But I’m so needy. So needy, and I like you—don't want to drive you away like…” she trails off, not making any sense. Then she turns away from me, heading into her flat.
“Arabella?” I follow close behind her, shutting and locking her door behind us to keep her safe while I figure out what’s wrong.
“No, they weren’t ever mine to begin with. Just doing their job,” she mutters to herself, not hearing me. “They probably already forgot about me…”
“Omega, look at me,” I growl softly, reaching for her when she whirls around, looking up at me with wide, worried eyes. “Tell me what you need, Arabella. Tell me how to make this better for you.”
“I’m not sure you can,” she whispers before dropping against me, burying her face against my chest.
It all clicks into place as I wrap my arms around her. I could smack myself for not putting it together quicker. No wonder she’s so stressed. This is pretty early in our relationship for something like this, not that I don’t want to stay, but omegas can be picky over who shares their heats.
“You’re going into heat?” I ask to progress the conversation more than get confirmation for what I’ve already figured out.
“It’s a mini heat,” she says with a whine. “The heat won’t be as long, but it’s more painful than I expected.” Her soft whimpers are worse than a shard of ice straight through my heart.
“Let me help you,” I offer, praying she’ll let me stay. I hope that she will trust me to take care of her, even when she's feeling her most vulnerable.
“Help me?” She looks up as I run my fingers through her hair, offering any comfort I can.
When I nod my head, she does the one thing that is guaranteed to disarm any alpha. She cries.
Fat tears roll down her cheeks as her bottom lip trembles.
“You’d do that for me? Really?” She sounds so shocked that I would offer something that should be natural for an alpha, especially for one who cares about her.
“Let me make it better, Arabella. I can ease your pain,” I offer gently, needing to help her. Needing to soothe her. To take away her pain and show her I’m not like her ex. “Let me take care of you.”
“You don’t have to,” she mutters, her scent spiking with fear, confusing the hell out of me.
Is she scared of me?
The thought of her being afraid of me makes me want to growl, but I push it down. This is about what she wants. How she feels safe. I need her to know that.
“I want to, if that's what you want too. You’re in control, baby, but never doubt how badly I want to be right where I am. I’ve been ready to propose since the first time we kissed,” I tease, making her giggle as she smiles with tears in her eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I do like you, Reid. It’s just, ugh—” She crumbles in my arms, clutching her lower stomach and letting out this painful whine that nearly snaps my sanity.
“Fuck, Arabella. I will do whatever you need, whatever you want, to make this better, but if you don’t want me, then at least let me get you to a clinic so you’re not in pain.” I’m lifting her off her feet, carrying her into the living room, but she shakes her head.
“No, it’s not that. I do want you. I just… I need to tell you something first before you commit to helping me. You would have to take bond blockers.”
“Okay, done. Easy. Point me to them.”
“There’s more. I was on heat blockers for years because my first heat was fucking awful. They failed recently, and now I’m going into stress heats, and they’re not going to get any easier any time soon…” she trails off, nibbling that damn lip once again and driving me semi-feral with need.
Her scent is about two minutes away from frying the last of my brain cells. If she turns me away, I’ll be rutting into an Arabella-scented throw pillow for the rest of the night—the one currently tucked behind her back, which I will definitely steal if necessary.
“If you’re saying you need me as an on-call cock for a few months, I’m not hearing a downside, babe.
” I nudge her with my nose, making her smile even through her discomfort.
“I don’t know what happened, but if you’re worried that being with me will be like your first heat, then I need you to know I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you never have that worry again,” I vow.
“I’ve only had two heats, and the other night with you was the first time I’ve ever…you know, without being in one.” Her cheeks flush deep red, and my eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling.
“Ever? But you had a boyfriend…” I’m more shocked by this information than I am about anything else she’s ever said.
“I mean, it was the first time I can truly remember it. My heat fog during my second heat was pretty heavy, but well. Uh, they were the kind of alphas that made sure I was never in pain for long…”
“Oh. Oh,” I drop back against her couch cushion, staring at Toast and Suki, who are watching us with very judgemental faces for dogs. “Are you completely certain that…” I trail off, meeting her eyes.
“Certain that what?” She frowns, a mix of worry and confusion.
“That I can’t hit your ex with my car? It would just be once. Okay, and maybe I would just drive over him a little bit, like front wheels only…” I pinch my thumb and pointer finger together, holding them up between us. “A smidge.”
“You’re terrible.” Her giggle is so light, and for a moment I think she might be feeling better, but then she winces.
“I am, but enough about the lengths I’m willing to go to for my Arabella. Tell me what you want. Am I stealing that couch pillow, or am I staying?”
“Why would you steal my pillow?” she asks, and I tilt my head, eyebrows raised. When it clicks, she snorts, smacking my chest. “That would be a crime against my poor pillow. Besides, I can think of a lot more fun places you could put your on-call cock."
“Lead the way, baby. I am your humble servant.”
“Just one little thing I have to do first.” She winces again, shifting to climb off my lap, brushing against my aching length as she does. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to see someone's dick as badly as I want to see that one,” she mutters, heading for her room.
I’m too stunned to do more than stare at her, my jaw on the floor.
“Oh fuck. I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, baby, you did. I think my knot just broke the zipper on my jeans, so if you could hustle that unbelievably sexy ass…”
This isn’t about me, and I’m very aware of that, but I’m worried if I don’t show her how badly I want her, she’ll start doubting herself again. That, and when omegas are in heat, or even preheat, they are very emotionally delicate. Sensitive to even the slightest change in their alphas.
I don’t want her to doubt me for so much as a split second.
Especially because the second she walks into her bedroom, I can already hear her sniffling again.