Page 12 of Knot My Luck

I step closer, just enough to close the distance without crowding her. She flinches, and it drives the beast inside me mad, but I push it down. I won’t rush this. She needs space. She needs control.

“You’re in heat, or on the verge of it, Red.” The accusation slips out again before I can stop it, my voice rougher than I intend. But it’s clear as day – her scent, the way her body trembles – it’s all unmistakable.

She doesn’t answer at first, but I can see it in the way her chest rises and falls, fast and uneven. Her scent spikes again, and I inhale, my entire body going rigid with need. Fuck, this is torture. But I can’t just leave her like this.

“It’s just a spike,” she eventually mutters again, but I’m not convinced. Meeting a scent match can cause an omega to go into early heat, and I think that’s what’s happening here. Although, why it didn’t happen when we first slept together, I don’t know. Maybe she was on heat suppressants. She was certainly on scent blockers.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Look,” I start, softer now, trying to steady my voice. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But you’re not alone in this. If you need help, I’m here. I can help you through it.”

Her eyes flick to mine, wide with panic, and I can see the confusion in her gaze. She’s torn between wanting to push me away and needing the relief I can offer. It’s like she’s fighting herself. Fighting me. But I can’t blame her. She has every right to be scared.

“I know what this is,” I continue, stepping even closer now, but careful not to touch her, to give her space. “I can take care of you. Help you get through it.”

Her breath catches, and I see her throat work as she swallows. She’s fighting it. Fighting me. But I won’t back down. Not now. Not when I can smell her desperation, her need.

“Let me take you to my hotel room,” I say, my voice a low growl. “I’ll get you through the…spike. You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

I see the hesitation in her eyes, her lips pressed together like she’s debating whether to give in or walk away. She doesn’t trust me – not yet. And I get it. I wouldn’t trust me either. But the longer she stands there, the more I see that she’s in over her head.

“I swear, I’ll make sure you’re okay,” I add, my voice softer now, coaxing. “Afterward, we can figure everything else out. But for now…just let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Her breath hitches again, and I see the conflict play out in her eyes. She’s scared. Confused. But there’s something else there too – something I can’t quite place. And that little flicker of hope, that desperate need for relief, tells me she’s going to say yes.

Slowly, she nods. The tension in her shoulders eases just a fraction, and my chest loosens a little.

“Okay,” she says almost inaudibly. But I hear it. And that’s all I need.

I reach out, gently taking her elbow and guiding her toward the exit, keeping my pace slow and measured, giving her the space she needs. She’s tense under my touch, but she doesn’t pull away. And that, I think, is progress.

“You won’t regret this,” I promise as we step out into the hallway, away from the crowd. “I’ll get you through it. You just focus on getting through this. I’ll take care of the rest.”

She doesn’t answer, but I can feel her presence beside me, the silent agreement between us.

The moment we step into the elevator, I can already feel the shift in the air between us. It’s thick with tension, the kind that feels like it’s about to break. Her scent is overwhelming now – wild, untamed, and filled with need – and I know it’s only going to get worse before it gets better. I can’t help but inhale deeply, trying to keep my composure, but it’s a losing battle.

She smells too good. Caramel apple pecan pie with a hint of warm cinnamon like my grandma used to make. Nostalgic, comforting…she smells like home.

Her hands tremble at her sides, and I can feel the warmth radiating off her, her body struggling against the fire coursing through her. The elevator doors close, and the pressure in the small, confined space amplifies.

And then she’s on me.

It’s almost like I don’t have a choice in the matter. She lurches forward, her hands gripping my shirt as she presses her body against mine, her eyes wide and desperate.

“Please,” she begs, her voice strained, almost frantic. “Help me. Please. Alpha. I—” She cuts herself off with a whimper, her body grinding against mine, instinct driving her actions.

My breath catches. The moment her scent spikes again, sharp and overwhelming, I can’t stop the groan that rumbles through my chest. My body reacts immediately – blood roaring in my ears, my cock hardening painfully against the thin fabric of my trousers. But Ican’t– I can’t let go. Not yet. She needs me calm. She needs me steady. She needs me to have a clear mind.

“Easy,” I murmur, voice low and soothing, as I place my hands on her shoulders, gently but firmly pushing her back, just a few inches, enough to look her in the eye. “I’ve got you, Red. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Just a couple minutes more.”

She whimpers again, a soft, needy sound that cuts straight through me. Her pupils are blown, eyes glazed over with desire, her chest heaving as she tries to calm her breathing. But when she moves again, it’s almost impossible for me to keep my hands from sliding down her body, my fingers brushing her luscious curves.

Her hips push forward, grinding against me, and I freeze. The fire of her body presses into mine, and the control I’ve been clinging to for the last few minutes is slipping fast.

“Red, stop,” I warn, but the words feel foreign, wrong, coming from me. My voice is rough, barely above a growl. My alpha is snarling at me for daring to deny our image anything. He doesn’t understand that if I give in now, I’ll likely fall into a rut and the last thing anyone wants is to discover us fucking in an elevator.

I try to hold her at arm’s length, but she’s insistent, her needy little moans breaking my resolve.

“I can’t. I need you. Please. Help me,” she begs, her voice raw, shaking.

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