Page 22 of Knot Your Business

“Think that might be a record, Jasper,” he murmurs. “Not only did you manage the paperwork in less than six months, you matched at your first gala. You sure you’re not an Omega?”

I scowl at him, my heart thundering in my ears. How long had I wished to designate? How many months had I hoped to suddenly display the innate characteristics of either designation so I wouldn’t have to give up Violet? Of course it would be now, when I’m content with my partners and settled in my skin as a Beta that something like this would happen. The irony is like ash on my tongue.

I ignore how my hands shake as I close the cello case and start across the room. Giles urges the woman into his office after Rylan. The sudden scene over, everyone else’s attention slowly returns to their own business. Giles steps aside as I get to the office, his hands in his pockets. I knock once on the doorway, and the woman looks over her shoulder.

“Perfect. I trust that between the two of you, all pertinent information will be given to your pack’s third member.”

Rylan mutters an affirmative. His knuckles are white where he clutches the thick, unmarked envelope.

“The video call is scheduled for tomorrow evening.”

I force my breathing to stay even, to keep the panic that’s welling inside me off my face until we’re somewhere safe for that kind of freak out. If Rylan can hold it together, then, fuck, so can I.

“Congratulations, Pack Montegue,” she says, nodding her head first toward Rylan and then to me.

Before we can say anything, she turns on her heel and leaves the office, crossing the storage room with the same precision as before.

“You texted him?” Rylan asks.

I nod and run my hands through my hair, trying to keep my stomach from climbing up my throat. Giles leans around the doorway.

“Want to hang out in here until everyone else clears out? Liz looks like she’s about to start mowing people over to get to you.”

Of course she does. She’s probably ready to throw a fucking party to celebrate. She has no idea that this is actually the worst possible scenario. Dominic’s going to be livid.

“That’d be great, Giles,” Rylan says, his voice way calmer than I’d honestly expected.

I murmur my thanks, too. No way am I walking out of here while everyone is still milling about.

Dominic climbs out of the Alfa Romeo the moment he’s slid it into park and killed the engine, walking across the garage and into our home without a glance back. Rylan opens my door and laces his hand with mine as I toss my bag over my shoulder. With a heavy sigh, I start toward the house, too.

Rylan tightens his hold on me, urging me to stillness and turning me toward him in one fluid move. My heart flutters, my dick stirring despite all the stress and tension sitting heavily in the air.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his eyes intent on mine. It’s the most solemn I’ve heard him be, and for a heartbeat, the packet in his bag drops away from my worry, and it’s just the two of us, alone in this moment surrounded by the products of our commitment. In another life, it might even be our elopement. “No matter what this packet says, Jasper. I love you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him again how he knows her, how he ran into her and probably had sex with her. But I keep the questions locked behind my lips, opting instead to palm the back of his neck and kiss him until we’re both breathless, my dick digging into his hip and his scent surrounding us. There’s no point in asking when she might not even be the Omega the Council’s chosen. And if she is?

Panic swells in my chest, stealing my breath more completely than the kiss.

Rylan grunts, twisting us until I’m pressed between the car and his hard body. He breaks the kiss as I grab his hips. His lips are soft as they brush along my jaw and down my throat. His teeth aren’t. I gasp as he bites the small hollow between my collarbone and neck. He runs his tongue over the stinging skin, and I groan, letting my head fall back and my eyes close.

“Jasper.” Rylan’s voice is low and hoarse, nearly desperate.

He palms me through my jeans, and my hips buck forward.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Jas,” he mutters. “I can’t fucking breathe.”

The feeling’s mutual. Six months together, and the aching need for him is just as overwhelming as the day I sucked him off in his kitchen. My mouth waters at the memory.

Maybe it’s time to recreate that moment.

“You have me,” I whisper against his lips.

Before he can protest, I drop to my knees and manage his jeans. His cock springs into my hands, hard and long, a drop of pre-cum already beading at the tip. I lick it off, enjoying the salty tang on my tongue, before tracing the metal piercing. He grunts, letting one hand twist into my hair. His curse is low and fervent as I swallow him whole, letting him nudge the back of my throat without preamble.

His Adam’s apple moves with his swallow. Heat settles low in my belly, my dick hard enough to ache, but I don’t rush my movements. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. The way his hand tightens in my hair with each long stroke of my tongue, the way his eyes dilate when I swallow as he hits the back of my throat again, the tightening of his stomach as he leans over me and rests his open hand on the roof of the car. I want to capture this moment, print it out so I can remind myself of the way he looks at me like I’m his entire fucking world.

“Shit, Jas,” he mutters, thrusting deep enough that my throat tightens involuntarily.

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