Page 24 of Caught in His Sights

His expression heats with desire. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Now, kiss me,” Caleb commands, his eyes never leaving mine.

Closing the small distance, my lips meet his, and when they don’t part as expected, I tease the seam with my tongue, seeking entrance.

When he still doesn’t open, a frustrated whine rises in my throat. “Please kiss me back.”

A smile forms against my mouth before Caleb takes control, thrusting deep, consuming me. My pulse pounds, feverish desire flooding through my body. The desire between us grows, the attraction undeniable, but I want more.

Shivering, I rock my hips, and my Alpha hardens.

“Please show me your bedroom,” I murmur, lips still touching, breathless from the intensity of my need for him.

In one swift motion, Caleb grabs my ass and lifts me. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

Heart pounding, I hook my ankles behind his back as he strides out of the room, past the stairs, and toward the room across the hall.

Finally, Caleb is taking me to bed.

As we reach the doorway, though, a knock echoes from downstairs, followed by a stern voice announcing, “Police. Open up.”

Caleb’s steps falter, and tension radiates off of him. My stomach twists with anxiety, and I bite my lip. This can’t be happening, not now. We were so close to finishing what we started last night.

The knock comes again, louder this time.

Cursing, Caleb sets me down on the floor. “Stay here. I’ll handle this.”

A sense of loss chills my body, and I lean against the wall, an arm’s length away from Caleb’s bedroom, thwarted yet again by outside forces.

8

My heartbeat fills my ears as I press myself against the wall at the top of the stairs, listening to the muffled conversation below.

Caleb’s deep voice mixes with another man’s, and I strain to glimpse the police officer on the other side of the door.

“What can I do for you before dawn?” Caleb asks, his tone guarded.

“Apologies for the early hour,” the stranger replies. “My name is Officer Pritchard. I’m from Gritmore precinct.”

My heart skips a beat. I recognize him, though he’s not an officer I’ve interacted with often. What is he doing all the way up north?

“We had an anonymous tip that you were seen with an Omega named Oliver Kent, who appeared to be in distress,” the officer continues. “We did a wellness check on Mr. Kent, but he wasn’t home, and some neighbors reported hearing glass breaking inside his apartment.”

My mind races back to the young Alpha who tried to stop Caleb from taking me away. I never thought he’d actually report the incident, and I’m shocked any of the people in my complex would draw attention to what happened.

My neighborhood is every man for himself, which is why so many Omegas can go missing without the news reporting on it.

Caleb remains silent, his back to the stairs and his hand gripping the door, blocking Officer Pritchard from seeing inside.

“I know you came home twenty minutes ago with someone else in your vehicle,” Officer Pritchard says. “If you don’t produce Oliver, I’ll come back with a warrant.”

Panic floods through me. If they search this place, they’ll find all sorts of things hidden behind Caleb’s artwork and under his sofa. Things that would disrupt the image of the playboy persona he’s so carefully crafted to show the world.

Motions hurried, I strip off my shoes and pants, undo the top three buttons on my shirt, ruffle my hair, and bite hard on my lips so they appear kiss-swollen.

I descend the stairs, doing my best to look sex-rumpled and hide the limp from my injured foot. “Babe, is it the groceries?”

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