Page 28 of Believe it or Knot

Rafe and Gage can come back at any time and catch us like this.

The thought has a thrill running down my spine, but it’s quickly followed by a chill.

Gage.

What will he think if he comes back out here and finds me like this?

I pull back, breathing heavy. Liam doesn’t let me go far, his palm on the back of my head holding me in place, our foreheads touching, our breaths mingling. His scent is thick in the air, sweet as a bakeshop and creamy as hell.

“Fuck, lovely,” he murmurs, tipping his chin up to peck my lips. “Fuck.” Another peck. “You almost made me cum in my pants.”

My already flushed cheeks deepen in color. My whole body feels hot, hot, hot, on the verge of combustion. “I-I’m sorry?”

He laughs and rubs his nose against mine. “Don’t be. You feel fucking phenomenal.”

“You feel pretty good too,” I concede.

“Just pretty good?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his mouth as he thrusts his hips up into me, making me let out a sound that’s part squeak and part moan. “God, you’re so fucking adorable. Makes me want to strip you bare and see what other noises I can get you to make.”

“I imagine they’d be the same as any other woman you’ve brought to your bed.”

His head jerks back so he can look at my face fully. “No. No, don’t say that, Sorrel. Don’t lump yourself in with everyone else. You’re fucking… special.” He frowns like he’s not satisfied with that word but continues. “The sounds you make are not like everyone else, because it’s you making them. Get it?”

I don’t, not really, but I smile and nod and bend down to press my mouth to his in a gentle kiss. He melts under my mouth, tongue flicking out against my bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth, scraping his teeth over it softly.

“You should stay the night,” Liam murmurs against my mouth. “Please stay, lovely.”

I open my mouth to agree, and only just barely stop myself. I’m not ready for that step. If I stay, we’ll have sex. I highly doubt an invitation to his bed isn’t just for cuddling. He’d made a point this afternoon of saying that his interest—their interest—in me is sexual, so it’s not like he actually wants to get to know me. It’s not like he’d be okay with me staying and then tacking on, ‘but not for sex.’

The thought has my heated blood cooling, the reminder that I’m only here with him so he can fuck me and eventually get me out of his system. How long would that take? Just once? Twice? My experience with men is that it never lasts for longer than a few weeks, months if I’m lucky, but no one actually wants to stay with me.

Most of my relationships just fizzle out.

And I’m not ready for that to happen with Liam and his pack.

I want to spend more time with them, and that means I have to remain strong and not give in.

No. No, I can’t stay. Not for drinks and not for dinner and certainly not to share this omega’s bed, his pack’s bed.

“I’m- I have to go,” I mutter, pulling away from him so fast he doesn’t have a chance to react, to stop me. In seconds, I’m off his lap, down the stairs and sprinting across their perfectly manicured lawn, the scent of blueberry cheesecake clinging to my skin and lingering on my tongue.

Later that night, after I’ve run all the way home, showered and tucked myself into bed, I consider my options. There’s really only two that I can see. First: back away from the Cordova pack now, focus on the restaurant, and helping Gage settle into civilian life. Liam might be disappointed at first, but he’ll get over it. He’s already said that it’s a sex thing, and he has millions of girls willing to enter that kind of agreement with him and his pack, sex without emotions, without attachment.

The second option is to move forward with them, enjoy it while I can and not think about the way I’ll be heartbroken when it’s over. Because I know I will be heartbroken when it’s all over. It might be sex only for them, but for me it’s impossible to get physical with someone and not feel something for them.

And the sad truth is… I already feel something for them.

All of them. Even Grayson, who I just met today, but who took such good care of me in the wake of Stephen’s abuse.

I don’t fool myself into thinking there’s a third option, one where we date and they fall in love with me and decide they want to keep me. Where they bite me into their pack and I’m their beta. Where we take care of each other for the rest of our lives.

That will not happen.

There’s no world where the Cordova pack, who dates models and actresses and pop stars, will want to actually be with Sorrel Forbes, burger flipper extraordinaire. No, this is just… I don’t want to say ‘slumming it’ because I don’t live in a slum, and while I’m not up to their usual standards for romantic partners, I’m not a bad girl from the wrong side of the tracks. But I am a small-town girl with a small life.

I’m not the type to go to fancy dinners or to be photographed while running errands. I would hate having my picture splashed across magazines while people tear apart what I’m wearing and how I look.

Almost everything about their life is dreadfully unappealing to me.

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