Page 78 of Claimed By the Band

"What about this one?" Dante holds up a sheer top that makes my mouth go dry imagining Alex in it. But one look at Alex's panicked expression has me shaking my head.

"Too flashy for undercover work," I say smoothly, though my mind definitely files that image away for later. After spending two consecutive nights cuddling with Alex—even if last night I ended up back with my alphas—I'm having a hard time keeping my thoughts purely professional.

Who am I kidding? I've never been this horny. When four alphas can't even take the edge off, you've got a problem.

Then again, none ofthemwill let me do any of the things I want to do to Alex. Spoilsports.

"Right, the mission," Dante says with a knowing smirk.

I turn back to Alex, who's fidgeting with his sleeve again. He only does that when he's really amped up. "Trust me?" I ask softly.

He meets my eyes and nods, something vulnerable in his expression that makes my chest tight. "Yeah," he whispers. "I do."

My heart soars at those simple words. I know how much trust costs him, how carefully he guards himself. The fact that he's willing to put himself in my hands, even just for something as simple as clothes shopping...

"Okay then," I say, gathering an armful of carefully selected pieces. "Let's start with these."

I guide him toward the dressing rooms, trying not to think about how good he's going to look in everything I've picked out. The burgundy silk shirt, tailored black slacks that will hug his legs just right, a fitted jacket that will emphasize his narrow waist...

"We'll be right out here if you need anything," I tell him, forcing myself to step back as he disappears behind the curtain.

Damon catches my eye from his position by the entrance, raising an eyebrow at whatever he sees on my face. He knows exactly why I'm antsy. We all had a long talk about boundaries last night. About how even though they're okay with whatever develops between Alex and me, we need to let him set the pace.

They're right, of course. Alex has been through too much trauma to rush into anything. But watching him emerge from the dressing room in that burgundy shirt, looking shy and uncertain as he tugs at the hems.. it tests my self-control in ways I wasn't prepared for.

"You look amazing," I breathe, drinking in the way the silk drapes over his shoulders, how the color makes his skin glow. "But here, let me..."

I step closer, carefully rolling up his sleeves to just below his elbows. He tenses for a moment but doesn't pull away, letting me adjust the fabric until it falls just right. I notice he's still wearing those thick leather cuff bracelets. I tried to help him out of them when we were cuddling the other night, and the result was immediate panic. He's definitely hiding something underneath them, but I know he's not ready to share that yet.

It doesn't make the protective fire in me burn any cooler, though.

"There," I say softly, stepping back to admire my work. "Perfect."

A blush creeps up his neck, staining his cheeks pink. It's possibly the most adorable thing I've ever seen. "You really think this will work for tonight?"

"Absolutely," I assure him. "You look insanely hot, but very sophisticated. Exactly what we need."

The smile he gives me, small but genuine, makes my head spin. I want to kiss him again so badly it hurts, but I force myself to behave. Tonight's mission is too important to risk making him uncomfortable.

But later... later I can dream about all the other outfits I'd love to see him in. About how that blush probably goes all the way down his chest when he's flustered. About what other sounds I could draw from those perfect lips.

I watch Alex fidget with the sleeve of his new burgundy shirt one last time before disappearing back into the dressing room to change. He's been doing so well, letting me guide him through this whole shopping experience. I want to keep that momentum going.

"Alright," I call through the curtain, "since the first outfit was a hit and we've still got plenty of time left, let's check out some casual options while we're here."

There's a pause, then Alex's voice comes back hesitant. "I really don't need?—"

"Need? No. But want? Come on, live a little!" I answer, excitement building. "You can't tell me you enjoy drowning in oversized hoodies all the time."

Another pause. "They're... comfortable."

"Everything can be comfortable if it's the right size," I counter. "Trust me, I perform in leather pants. I know my way around making statement pieces wearable."

He emerges in my borrowed sweatshirt, and I have to bite back a smile at how he immediately seems to relax once he's back in his comfort zone. It's cute, but also a little heartbreaking.

Not that I can complain about the sight of him in my clothes. Or the scent. Fuck, that does things to my head. Now I understand why Damon purred the last time I put on his shirt because I couldn't be bothered to pick mine out of the pile we left on the floor.

"Come on," I say, holding out my hand. Alex takes it after only a moment's hesitation, which feels like a victory. "Let's see what catches your eye."

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