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Warm and tropical, cool and sweet. Her essence seems to sink into my lungs and expand, forcing out deeper purrs.
She sways toward the sound, a tiny whine trapped in her throat. I fucking hate how scared she is. Which is when it occurs to me—if she’s terrified and she smells like this; what the hell does her arousal smell like?
Holy shit. I might not survive.
The thought puts a rueful twist in my lips while I close the final step between us. She has both hands on Avery’s body, but she doesn’t cringe as my denim-covered thighs brush her knees. There are goosebumps prickled under her net stockings. I frown at them, worried she’s too cold on the sterile metal table.
Avery’s light eyes glow while they snag on hers. “What do you think?” he mutters, conspiring with her. “Do we kick his ass out or let him stay?”
Leave it to Ave to already be plotting with our omega. He’s only been in here for two minutes. But as she looks up at him, there’s a shaky sort of trust in her gold-green eyes.
Avery’s eyebrows pinch while he gazes back. Poor kid. He probably has no idea how to deal with his feelings—because it’s clear he already has plenty for this little omega.
“He’s a good alpha,” he tells her, voice dropping lower. “Better than me, for sure.”
Her instincts must be drawn to his in a special way because she scowls, leaning closer to him. The half-smirk hanging on his lips flashes into a real smile—one he usually reserves for taunting his opponents in the ring. There isn’t any malice in it now, though. Just amused surprise.
He’s already whipped. Not that I have a leg to stand on—at this point, my purr is practically a dull roar.
Her big emerald eyes slowly trace my face, taking in my thick beard and wide features. I almost wince, suddenly all too aware that I’m likely the least attractive guy in our pack.
Maybe we should have sent Spencer in here first. He’s a dick, but he has a much prettier face.
“My name is Jonah,” I tell her, blurting, “and I know I look scary, but I promise I’m not. Really. I mean, I play football, so I plow people down for a living, but I would never do that to you, obviously. Or anyone. Except, you know, the other players.”
Avery’s smile ticks into a shit-eating grin. “You made Tubs nervous, kitten,” he drawls. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him nervous.”
I shoot him a fuck-you glare before I realize how aggressive I probably look. When I glance back down at Serena, though, she isn’t cowering. She’s glaring, too.
At Avery.
“What?” he asks, backtracking. “You don’t like Tubs? Neither did I, at first, but he grows on you.”
She shakes her head at him, frustrated, before turning back to me.
One of the hands clasped around Avery’s joggers starts to drift up toward me, and I go utterly still, wanting her to feel safe as she brushes her fingertips over my arm.
“Jo,” she says, mouthing the nickname so quietly it almost isn’t even a word.
No one has ever called me that, but hell if I’m going to correct her. “Tubs” has never exactly been my favorite, anyway.
It takes me a moment to realize that she guessed that the second she heard Avery say it. She’s correcting him.
For me.
It’s the first word she’s said since Tris bit her.
And it’s just for me.
That has to mean something, right?
chapter
twelve
There’s an omega in the next room who now belongs to me.
And I don’t know if I can go in there.
