Page 19 of Hard Knot

Which isn’t a good thing because my body is reacting to him like I’d give up all my morals to climb him up and ride his— fuck. Let’s NOT think like that.

His jaw could cut glass — all clean, sharp angles softened only slightly by a day's worth of stubble. I usually prefer my men more rugged, but there's something about the contrast between his refined features and the barely contained violence in his posture that works.

That’s charming and far too attractive.

He's tall — my dancer's eye puts him at around 6'4" — which means he's practically looming over my 5'7" frame, even from across the room.

Most of my height is in my legs, a blessing for a dancer but sometimes awkward in daily life. Right now, though, I'm acutely aware of how those long legs are completely bare except for my dance shorts, which aren’t doing much cover-up.

The uniform marks him as a student, but I've never seen him before. And I would have remembered.

Even in a school full of Alphas, he stands out like a shark in a koi pond.

"You must be new," I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds despite the way my heart is hammering. "This is the female changing room."

His lips curve into something too predatory to be called a smile.

"I'm well aware, Abercrombie."

Shit…he knows my name. How?

The words hang in the air between us, charged with meaning. He's not apologizing. Not leaving. Just...watching me with those impossible eyes.

I can only assume he had to be in the auditorium, watching my performance, as if it was anything close to entertaining. It makes me wonder what his objective could be, preying on me in this place that deems me “vulnerable”.

The air feels thick, and heavy with our combined scents.

That incredible mixture of warm spices and sweet darkness is stronger now, and I realize with a jolt that it's coming from him. Not cologne — his natural scent.

The thought makes something low in my belly clench.

I watch as he slides his hands into his pockets, making me realize at some point he’d taken them out for some air, but not before I catch the slight tremor in them.

Is he reacting to me as I feel like I’m reacting to him?

He's affecting me, yes, but I'm affecting him too…which could be a good sign.

Or very bad. I can’t fucking tell.

I can see it in the way his pupils have dilated, turning those beautiful hazel eyes almost black. In the tension that runs through his broad shoulders like an electric current.

The throbbing between my legs is impossible to ignore now.

My suppressants should prevent this kind of reaction, but they feel about as effective as a paper umbrella in a hurricane. Every instinct is screaming at me to move closer, to press myself against him and find out if he tastes as good as he smells.

Dangerous thoughts.

Too dangerous for me to continue staying here.

I've spent five years building walls around myself, protecting this Omega shell from exactly this kind of situation. I'm not about to let some gorgeous Alpha with bedroom eyes and a scent like sin incarnate tear them down.

No matter how much my body is begging me to do exactly that.

Easier said than done though…

I’ve always been the one to talk the talk and walk it flawlessly, but this instance proves that I may not be able to walk away from this golden opportunity.

Maybe I thought being in this situation would be easy to contradict because all the Alphas I’ve met are douchebags. I feel as though this one would be no different, but there’s just something feral about him that makes me think otherwise.

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