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Grab her, hold her, fuck her. Knot her deep. Stay forever. Purr for her until she’s boneless omega mush. Then bite the fuck out her.
My dick turns to steel, swelling my knot and spiking my scent. Her blue eyes flicker, the pupil at their center expanding.
The sugar-and-butter undercurrent to her scent shifts, from perfectly warm to burned. It’s still good, like dark caramel, but the change is enough to knock me back all over again.
She’s terrified, I realize, sobering up. Think about how scary this must be for her. Think about what you would want for your sisters.
They’re both omegas. And I worry about them every day.
Shame cools me off a bit. Just enough for me to control my voice and posture.
“Hey, peaches,” I say, flattening my back into the wall. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The small woman presses closer to the doors, her hands scrabble against them like she’s looking for a handle. It would be cute if her scent wasn’t burning by the second.
“I promise,” I go on, showing her the way I’m clutching the bar. “I won’t move them.”
It’s weird. One minute, she’s clearly freaking the fuck out, her scent swelling and smoldering, her eyes filling, shivers wracking her whole body. But then she just… stops.
Her shoulders fly back, and she raises her head. She blinks and twines her hands together, squeezing them to try to hide her shakes.
It does nothing to change her terrified scent, but damn. The gorgeous girl leaking peachy perfume has some balls.
The thought makes my lips twitch into a smile. Arch says I always smile at inappropriate times. I can’t help it, though. The determined look in her eye is as impressive as it is endearing.
“You’re one of the players,” she says, running her gaze down my body in an appreciative glide.
My chest puffs out. A tiny smirk fills her face. “And you smell like… lemongrass? I never would have guessed that.”
A startled laugh blurts out of me. “Lemongrass? No way, peaches. I’ll have you know my scent is citrus. Masculine citrus. Nothing frou-frou like lemongrass.”
She rolls her big blue eyes and reaches behind her to slap the button for the lobby. She’s still shaking. I decide to ride down with her.
For, you know, protection.
“Whatever you say, big guy,” she chuckles, instantly refolding her hands, her knuckles white. Her gaze drops to her heels. “I guess I’m no expert, anyway. Since I’m a beta and all.”
My eyes round while my brain trips over itself.
A beta?
Who the hell does this sweet little snack think she’s fooling? I know a perfect omega when I smell one.
But if it makes her feel safer to pretend, that’s fine. It’s what I’d want my sisters to do if they found themselves in her situation. Omegas have to do whatever they need to do to keep themselves safe. And this girl has no reason to trust me.
Hell, I have no reason to trust myself. She smells waaaaaay too good.
I force myself to look in her eyes, reminding myself that she’s a person. And she’s scared. When our gazes bump, I see the plea shining in hers. Please, please, please. Because we both know she isn’t supposed to be here.
I would never rat this gorgeous girl out. Even though we have policies against this kind of shit for a reason. I know it’s dangerous; if either one of us had some sort of hormone spike, things could get out of hand really fucking fast.
But I know—in my bones—that I won’t hurt her. So why not let her have her story? “Sure, peaches. Of course you are.”
It’s none of my business, anyway. I tell myself that until I almost believe it. Still, as we near the lobby, my muscles bunch and twitch. I hate the idea of her walking out alone, trying to get wherever she’s going without an escort.
“Did you drive here or...?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why do you ask?”
