Page 8 of All In

And he thinks I’m a menace?

Dear God.

That massive bulge is bad for my self-control.

“Oh, hell no!” I shriek as Locke tries to walk us into the tiny elevator in my building. The thing is a death trap. “No. Thank you, but no way. You got me home safely. I can make it up those six floors on my own.”

Locke sighs like an old man, tightening his grip as he carries me like a bride. “You’re beautiful, but a total and complete pain in the ass.”

“Thank you.” My face wallows around his muscular chest, trying to find where his citrusy scent is the strongest.

He barks a laugh, and I tilt my face up to see his.

I’m not sure why it feels like such a massive accomplishment to make him laugh, but it really does.

Maybe it feels so monumental because I’ve never seen him smile before.

Dark stubble lines his strong jaw, and I ache to run my fingers over it. I bet it’s scratchy. Beards tickle, but stubble scratches, and I can only imagine how it would feel trailing down my stomach.

Holy crap.

My pheromones pulse in the air, and I’m pretty sure that gives away what I was thinking. It’s unsettling because my hormones have never been this out of control while taking suppressants, but they have become less and less effective as time goes on.

My eyes clench closed as I snuggle into his chest. His scent is enough to both settle my anxiety and entice my system. It’s an unnatural combination.

“Which unit?” Locke asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Third door down on the right.”

He strides us forward while I yank off my small crossbody purse. I barely get my key out before he snags it from my grip and takes care of the locks. He twists the handle and pops the door open with his foot before placing me on my feet.

I can’t see my own face to tell, but I’m pretty sure there’s a pout covering it. I don’t generally pout, but it feels strangely like a rejection. If he wanted to make good on his promises, he’d carry me inside and have his way with me.

“I have work to do. Try not to cause any more chaos tonight.” His tattooed fingers brush over my cheek. “Can you do that for me, kitten?”

I shrug, trying with every ounce of my being to look unaffected. “I’m tired, anyway.”

I step over his foot to get inside my apartment as Locke chuckles.

He grabs my wrist, but his touch is gentle as he spins me to face him. “Get out your phone.”

My forehead wrinkles as I study his dark eyes.

“I want to make sure you have my number if you need it.”

My entire body lights up at his words, and I bite my lower lip as I dig my phone out of my bag.

Chapter Two

Laken

Over the next few days, it becomes abundantly clear my suppressants are failing.

Faster than seems possible.

I get multiple comments from customers at work, but when a few of my alpha coworkers start acting differently and actually follow me around the restaurant, I realize I can’t put it off any longer.

Having insurance through my employer is convenient, but my doctor’s appointments aren’t free.

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