Page 33 of Never Bet Against A Hockey Player

“Okay,” I relented, somehow even more nervous now.

August didn’t hesitate to throw several bills down on the table before pulling me back out of the booth.

I started to open my mouth as we passed Lydia, but she waved me off, mouthing for me to get out.

For once, I didn’t argue.

I felt almost giddy. The relief was so astounding that I was almost high from it. My head was spinning, my body light, laughter even threatening to bubble up from wherever I’d buried it long ago.

This was my moment. My time to indulge and give myself something, even if it was small.

Whether it was a stepping stone to a future that was truly mine or a small oasis, only time could tell.

Chapter

Ten

Dhara

My nerves grew worse the closer we got to August’s house. By the time he pulled into the driveway my legs were bouncing and I’d nearly chewed off my nails.

“Firecracker, we don’t have to do anything,” he promised me as he put the car in park and turned my way.

“I want to do this.” My voice was firm this time.

August grinned, flashing me his white teeth. His canines were slightly sharp, making him look almost wolfish as he silently celebrated.

My gaze flickered over his features, taking them in again with unclouded judgment. His muscles were bulging from years of hockey. He was a little bit bigger than an average delta. Not quite alpha status, but still strong. My fingers ached to reach out and touch him but I didn’t move.

August shifted slightly, but didn’t break the moment. He let me drink in my fill as if he knew how badly I needed this.

Every inch of his skin that I could see outside of his face was covered in ink. The back of his hands, arms, chest, neck, all held intricate artwork with pops of color.

His dark hair was short, but long enough that it was disheveled, like he had run his hand through it a few times. God, I longed to reach out my own hands and run them through it. To see if it was thick or soft. A physical reminder that he was real and this was happening.

His piercing, green eyes told me they saw right through all of my fears and anxieties, right down to the core of me. The part that wanted him so desperately that it made me irrational.

Because I knew the moment I gave in to him, tasted him, I wouldn’t be able to walk away.

“If you’re ready, we can go inside. We’ll take it slow. I’m just going to make you feel good,” he promised.

“No,” I husked. “This was about you teaching me how to make you feel good. Not me.”

“We’ll get to that,” he said with a smirk. Then his expression turned serious. “This is important. I don’t think that you’re going to be able to truly grasp any of this until you’ve had an orgasm yourself.”

My cheeks were flaming now and my chest heaved as panic flared. This was different.

We had a plan.

He didn’t say anything to reassure me as he got out of the truck and came around to my side. He held a hand out like a true gentleman.

August waited as I thought it over, finally finding the nerve to put my hand in his. He didn’t let me go as he led me up the driveway and onto the front porch.

He dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys, unlocking the door, pushing it open and pulling me inside.

The moment I stepped over the threshold I was hit with a mixture of all three of their scents. My omega was practically thrashing to get out now. She was breathing in deep, greedy, lungfuls. Committing their combined potent scents to memory.

August’s was sharper as he was standing beside me. The sharp lime, cedar, and basil weaving through the others.