Page 25 of Slick

It’s hard to settle after Kennedy leaves the room. Rowan draws me down to a sofa in the sunken lounge, and I sink into the brown leather, which is as soft as butter under my palms. But when I feel a stray trickle of slick seep out, I leap to my feet, my face burning. “I need a slick suit, Rowan!”

Sadness fills his gaze, his hands gentle as they clasp mine. “We need to have an honest talk, okay? Can you sit down for that?”

I eye the sofa regretfully. “Not if I’m going to make a mess on all these pretty things.”

With a sigh, Rowan draws me down onto his lap. His jeans are already damp, so I don’t feel as bad about sitting there, and I practically purr when he starts running his fingers through my hair. “Sweetheart, you’re the prettiest thing in here. Everything else is replaceable. But even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You’re an omega in heat, which means you’re expected to get a little messy. And these rooms, they’re built to take that.” I look dubiously at the elegant furnishings, and he directs my face back to his with a finger under my chin. “Do you want to see what an omega in heat looks like?”

“You mean one of your films?”

His eyes widen, and he quickly licks his lips. “Don’t you want to see what it’s like for a female omega?”

“No.” The thought actually makes me frown, and I wind my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent. Ever since we came into the suite, it’s thickened into a heady, creamy cookie cloud and I have to remind myself not to bite him. “I want to seeyou, Rowan.”

“Okay, but it’s from a while ago.” He takes out his phone, while also picking up a remote and turning on the screen on thewall. “I don’t do group scenes any more, and I’m now exclusively a top. Not that I didn’t top from the bottom, but this was back when people wanted me in a more traditional omega role…” His voice trails off and he clears his throat as he connects his phone to the screen. When the logo of Sultry Studios pops up, accompanied by slow, sensual music, I almost ask him to turn it off, but in the next instant an image has me sucking in a heated breath. A young Rowan is lying on a round bed, his mostly naked body slick with sweat as he stares longingly out an open window. He’s breathing fast, and I can’t tell if it’s pleasure or pain that makes him fist the bedsheets, his hips moving in restless circles.

“Now, the thing to remember is that porn rhymes with corn,” Rowan tells me, that hint of anxiety back in his scent. “None of my films have ever won any awards for the plot.”

“Hm-hmmm.” I’m not sure what he’s trying to tell me, but I’m too distracted by the version of Rowan on the screen to work it out. A weak breeze stirs the gauzy drapes, and he gives a deep sigh as he fans himself with one hand while plucking at the waistband of his boxers with the other. He murmurs something about needing his alphas to hurry home before he explodes, and the real-life Rowan mutters into the back of my neck, “The dialogue isn’t exactly Shakespeare, either.”

“Shh,” I tell him, twisting around until I’m facing the screen. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

He clicks his tongue, but sits quietly while I watch his younger self squirm and pant on the bed. It’s a much simpler room than the one we’re in, with cheap wooden furniture and pale, rough walls. There are only a couple of cushions on the bed, and a plain comforter in dark blue is stretched beneath him. It’s the richest color in the room next to Rowan himself, who’s all caramel skin and bright, copper hair. There are spots of color on his cheekbones and his eyes are hooded, but I can see the hazel highlights peeking through his thick lashes. When he lickshis lips, his mouth is so red, it reminds me of that crimson river gleaming in the middle of the chocolate cake.

As the breeze flutters his hair, his hand slips into his boxers, which are white and sculpted over his groin. I watch his fingers twist and flex under the thin cotton, my heart beating faster as his gaze snaps from the window to the door. Heavy footsteps sound off camera, and he rises onto his knees, his hand still cupping himself. “Thank God you’re here!” he exclaims in a breathless cry. “I thought I was going to have to take care of myself.”

Three men enter the room, all slicked with sweat and breathing hard. “Never, little berry. We ran as soon as we smelled you.”

I have to swallow to unglue my tongue from my teeth. “Berry?”

“Ugh.” I feel his head tip forward, his lips brushing my shoulder. “It’s a play on my name. And other things not worth mentioning…”

I make a mental note to follow up on that later, because the largest of the three men strides right up to the bed and thrusts his thumb into Rowan’s mouth. He sucks it as if it’s cherry-flavored candy, and the alpha slides a gloved hand over his head, petting his hair. The black leather looks intimidating against his soft, golden locks, but Rowan sucks harder, his eyes glassy as he stares at the alpha. “Good little berry. Have you got yourself nice and wet for us?”

The other alphas crowd around the bed, but not so close I can’t see what they’re doing. One has a shaved head and is wearing blue jeans with a white hard hat, a metal toolbox in his hand, while the other one has short , dark hair and is in some kind of uniform. It takes me a moment to place the big boots and the helmet tucked under his arm. “Did he just come from a fire?”

Rowan snorts. “Yep. Just wait for all the fire hose jokes.”

I smile, but I’m distracted by the biggest alpha, the slick between my thighs starting to soak through my pants. “Who’s the one in black?”

“The leather daddy?” Rowan’s hands are on my waist, but he moves restlessly under me, like he’s trying to get comfortable. “Uh, I think his name is Samson, because of his hair. Why? Do you like that look?”

I nod, thinking of Kane. He wore a coat just like Samson’s vest and had the thick hair and wild beard to match the alpha on the screen. I can’t help but imagine that it’s Kane with his thighs wrapped in leather, and I squirm, heat blooming in my core. “Did he ever take you for a raw ride on a V-twin Softail under a full moon?”

Rowan makes a choking sound behind me, but his arms squeeze me tight as he leans forward to look in my face. “Sweetheart, are you missing your alpha?” I nod, trying to hold in the tears that have pushed their way to the surface, but he sees them and brushes his fingers over my cheek. “Of course you are. It was a stupid question. But I promise that as soon as Kennedy gets back with Dex, she’ll go out and track Kane down.”

“Really?”

“My sister has eyes and ears everywhere,” he replies, giving me a soft smile. “And since most heats last for about three days, there’s plenty of time for him to come join you.”

“Three days?” I try to imagine feeling like this – hot, and achy, and as if my skin is going to burst into stardust at any moment – forthree whole days. It’s both exciting and terrifying, and I clutch him harder. “And you’ll stay with me, too?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then I’ll stay right here.” He glances at the screen, and I realize he’s paused the film. “Why don’t I show you what’s in the box while this plays in the background?”

Rowan starts the film again, the alphas swarming over him like hungry bears on a honey pot, and I can’t see how I’ll possibly concentrate on the box until he directs me to lift the lid. The inside is divided up into sections, the satin-lined compartments filled with a treasure trove of pretty, curious things. “Have you seen any of this before?”

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