Page 111 of The Rust in Her Hair

Not a huge one. Just enough space so that our shoulders don't touch. I hate it.

I want him on top of me. Inside me. Biting me.

Stop it!

I prop my chin on my knees and give Mack my best smile, but the alpha isn’t looking at me. His attention is on the book lying face down on the coffee table. He leans forward, and one dark blond eyebrow climbs.

"What's this?" He scoops the book up before I can stop him, turning it over to read the cover. His mouth curves. "Claimed by the Mountain Pack."

Heat shoots up my neck, but I try to act cool. "Put that down before you lose my page."

"No way." He scans my dog-eared page, and his grin spreads wider by the second. "Oh, darlin'. This is filthy." He lifts the book higher, his eyes drifting over the text. "Rourke pulled her against the hard planes of his chest—" He whistles low. "The hard planes. You like that?"

"Give it back." I make a grab for it but Mack holds it out of my reach, laughing.

"I'm just shocked," he says, narrowing his eyes at my face. "All those fancy finishing schools, and nobody taught you to hide your porn better?"

"It's not porn." I snatch the book out of his hand, and clutch it to my chest. "It's a literary exploration of omega desire, and I'm not apologizing for it," I say with my head held high. "I wouldn't expect an alpha to understand."

"Right."

"There's a plot in here," I say, sounding a little more defensive than I’d like. "Rourke and Sebastian struggle with their primal urges. And Shasta has been through genuinely traumatic experiences and her relationship with her pack is—" I stop. He's grinning at me. "Don't look at me like that."

Mack leans in with that playful energy, and my nipples go hard.

"Those hard planes though," he whispers with a smirk.

Kiss me. Please kiss me.

And then his eyes drop to my mouth before lifting slowly back to mine.

My breath goes thin.

He's close, so close that his hazelnut scent pours over me. In fact, all I'd have to do is lean in a few inches and press my lips to his. My body strains toward him, my pulse pounding at the base of my throat, every part of me screaming to kiss him.

But I don't move.

I can't. Because I still don't know if this is the thing I think it is, or just Mack being Mack, teasing an inch from my mouth the way he teases about everything. And if I lean in and I'm wrong, I don't think I could stand it.

"Do you like that kind of thing?" Mack asks, his voice gone careful, his eyes never leaving mine.

"What thing?" My words come out breathy, barely there.

His smirk deepens. And he leans in another fraction, close enough that I feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.

"Alphas who struggle with their primal urges," he murmurs.

I swallow hard, then a single word falls from my lips. "Yes."

Something shifts behind Mack's eyes, the playfulness burning down into something lower and hotter, and I feel the exact moment his restraint gives.

"Thank God," he growls, then his mouth is on mine.

The kiss is soft at first, careful, like he's still half-braced for me to change my mind.

I lean into him, my hands finding the warm, bare skin of his chest, and the second I do, the last of his hesitation burns away. His hand slides into my hair, cupping the back of my head. Then he angles my head and deepens the kiss, licking into my mouth ever so slowly.

His hazelnut scent floods my senses until I'm dizzy with it.