Page 37 of Pack Larsen

And Pace… it’s strange, but it’s almost like I saw a different person at the library on Monday. I’ve always thought Pace was handsome, from the first moment I met him, but seeing him relaxed and laughing? It’s a hard image to scrub from one’s brain, along with his smoke-and-leather scent that lingered long after he left.

In fact, I’ve been scenting them all over the damned house the past week, and it’s made avoiding them ten times harder than it should have been. I’m almost reluctant to acknowledge why, but it’s undeniable. I miss them. I actually miss them. Which is absurd, right? Sure, I got used to seeing them almost every day when I’d go looking for Juno to spend time with during lunch. They were always there, whether it was just Munro and Aero, or the twins, where Juno was, there was usually pack Larsen. Only Pace had ever been missing, but now that I know he skedaddles off to the library during lunch, it makes going looking for him a difficult urge to ignore.

All week, I’ve avoided each of them. Much better than I rightfully should have been able to, especially since we live together, but there’s been no peep of them. Only lingering scents in the kitchen and living room, sometimes in the hallways. And I find that I miss the noise, the presence of people, the change of atmosphere that came with the five of them when they moved in. No longer was my house just a house. It had life in it, even briefly. When you’re raised in a quiet, lifeless household like I was, everything in order and in its place, it was easy to grow attached to the chaos that came with pack Larsen moving in.

Standing and stretching my back, I moan at the pull of locked muscles, my back aching something fierce after spending the past two hours composing.

“That’s a sexy sound I’ve missed hearing,” a smooth voice sounds from the doorway of my studio, surprising me enough that I startle. Aero stands in the doorway, dressed in low-slung sweatpants and a loose white shirt, arms crossed over his chest as he smiles cheekily at me.

“When have you heard me moan like that?” I blurt, because he sure hasn’t been active in anything I’ve done while making those noises. Only me, Merlin, a dildo, and that one time Munro barged into my room like a tool.

Aero bites his lip for a moment before confessing, “The walls are thinner downstairs than they are in here, babe. Every time you’re going down on yourself, we hear it. Every moan, every cry, every whimper. You’re not a quiet girl when in the throes of pleasure.”

Oh, wow. I forgot. I forgot the walls are thin, pretty sure I forgot I was living with other people with how quiet it’s been, and I’ve been unusually horny all week. Merlin the Magic Wand used to do the trick for me before, but now it seems I need a little more to get off with, and, apparently, I haven’t been quiet enough about it.

I can feel my cheeks heat despite the lack of shame I have about sexual activities. I mean, we all do it. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. It’s natural and all that jazz. What has me blushing like a virgin in a strip club is the way Aero watches me as he informs me that my self-love sessions have not gone unheard.

“My bad,” I mutter, biting my lip and crossing my arms over my chest.

Aero shakes his head and finally steps into the studio. I have no idea how long he’s been standing there, but the moment he shifts, his scent does, too. The room is flooded with frosted plum before I know it, filling my lungs with my next inhale, and a strange, little yearning appears in my chest.

“I’m not complaining, baby,” Aero assures, his voice a little deeper, huskier than usual. “That’s a lie. My only complaint is that you’ve been driving me mad all week. I’ve been trying to keep my distance so you can think over Pace’s request, but you’re not an easy girl to avoid, Silver. Especially not when I know what you’re getting up to in that nest of yours.”

Clearing my throat, I stand firm while my insides quiver and melt, turning inside out in the best way with the look those pretty, sky-blue eyes are giving me. There’s a heat in them, a darkness that I could easily get lost in, and I swallow hard before I attempt to speak. “Might I suggest you invest in a set of noise-cancelling headphones? Perhaps ear plugs?”

Aero chuckles, that delicious sound that I’ve missed something fierce, before he shakes his head slowly. With direct eye contact, he claims, “Bold of you to assume I wasn’t thoroughly enjoying myself listening to those sounds. Only thing that could have been better if I were in the room with you, watching every expression on your face, hearing those sweet, little sounds with better clarity, drowning in your scent.”

“Fucking hell,” I breathe, feeling a little flushed, warming with every word he utters. I have no idea what’s gotten into the omega, but I’m not entirely sure if I hate it or love it. All I know is that I’m touch starved, I’m horny as fuck, and I’m perfuming like a needy, little omega, the effect of Aero’s words as clear as the sun in the sky.

Stepping closer with more of those sexy chuckles, stopping until he’s only an arm’s length away, Aero tilts his head while inhaling deeply. He groans, and I’m pretty sure I combust on the inside, slick gushing between my legs. My eyes widen as his shutter closed, and, before I know it, the sneaky bastard is hooking a finger into the waistband of my high-waisted gym shorts and is tugging me toward him.

I go like a moth to a flame, unable to resist, and the moment I’m close enough, Aero is banding his arms around me like the octopus he is. Pale-blue eyes open slowly, and the look he sends me melts all of my insides, and I physically feel the resistance to forgive evaporate. I mean, Aero really hasn’t done anything wrong. If anything, he’s the only one who actively tried to form something between us, whether it was friendship or more. He wanted to spend time with me, snuggled when I fell asleep during our game of ‘get to know one another,’ and offered him and his pack to take me to the charity benefit I’ve been dreading.

Why the hell was I even pissed at him to begin with? Fucking A. Omegas, huh?

When the last of my resistance washes away with every ounce of animosity, Aero whispers, “How the hell can I miss you so much already?”

I sigh, and my arms grow a mind of their own as they wrap around his waist, my fingers spreading out over his back and digging into his warmth. Even through the t-shirt, he’s hot to the touch. Not quite alpha level, but a familiar warmth we omegas share. It’s nice, and I decide to confess, “I suppose one could say I missed you, too.”

“Suppose so, huh?” he teases, grinning down at me, gaze lit up with what looks like hope and relief. Then the cheeky bastard yanks me right against his front, rocking us back and forth to a song I can’t hear, and begs, “Does this mean you’re done giving us the cold shoulder? We gonna start over? Tell me we’re starting over.”

Honestly? I cave there and then. I miss his companionship, his smiles and laughs. I miss having the friend I was making. And I miss the potential that disappeared when I cut them out, cut him out, of something more growing if given the opportunity.

So, praying I don’t regret it, I confirm, “Clean slate.”

“This mean I have my bubblegum baddie omega back?” he pushes, as though he needs me to spell it out for him, his tone almost frantic with a suppressed sense of euphoria.

I, however, get painfully hung up on the ‘my omega’ of that particular sentence. His omega. Aero’s omega. Holy shit, that sounds nice. It sounds so godsdamned nice, that I find myself nodding before I can comprehend the movement. I might regret this, I might not. Only one way to find out, right?

Pressed as snugly as I am to his chest, I can feel the thundering of his heart, revealing the nerves and excitement that hides under the surface. An excitement that reveals itself with a harsh breath and a muttered, “Thank fuck.”

“This is probably such a bad idea,” I laugh, my own heart thundering rapidly with an array of emotions and feelings. It’s almost like I’m high or something, not that I’ve ever experienced such a feeling. I imagine it would very much feel like this, like my body is flooded with giddiness. Like my head is light and airy with a flood of adrenaline, not once giving my mind time to stop and think about all the ways this could bite me in the ass later.

Before I can put any thought into that particular line of questioning, Aero snorts, right before he’s cupping my face in his large hands, crystal-clear blue eyes are peering down at me with a satisfied glow and an overjoyed grin before he whispers, “Tell me it’s a bad idea after I’ve done this.”

Aero’s mouth is on mine within the next breath, his plush lips pressing firmly but softly into mine, bringing with it a heady dose of his scent that instantly thickens and grows with its sugary sweetness. I’m practically bathing in frosted plum, his scent mingling with the flood of my own perfume, creating a sugary concoction that surrounds us both.

My moan is stolen as Aero kisses me soundly, his wet, hot tongue swiping across my lower lip with his own groan that sends more slick pooling between my thighs. When I grant him the access he’s looking for, he wastes no time in tasting me. His tongue dances with mine, and I lose myself completely to the riot that wars through my body.

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