Page 61 of Storm
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very exposed in my sleep shorts and tank top. "I forgot to take it after dinner."
“I noticed.” His eyes are still dark with desire, but he's regaining control by the second, his breathing evening out.
“Why are you even awake?” I ask, needing to break the tension somehow.
“I told you. I rarely sleep.” He pushes away from the counter, running a hand through his hair. "I was in my study when I smelled you."
The thought of him tracking my scent through the penthouse sends a shiver down my spine. Half fear, half something else I refuse to acknowledge.
“You should go back to your room,” he says, his voice steadier now. "The suppressant will kick in soon."
I nod, moving toward the hallway on still-shaky legs. As I pass him, he reaches out suddenly, catching my wrist in a gentle grip.
“The blockers will be here tomorrow,” he says, his stormy eyes holding mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He releases me, and I hurry back to my room, closing the door firmly behind me. I lean against it, heart racing, body still thrumming with heat and need.
What the hell just happened? Reed Howard, the cold, distant, intimidating asshole Reed. He nearly lost control because of me. And worse, for a moment there, I wanted him to.
I press my hands to my hot cheeks, horrified at myself. I love Rook. I'm going to escape and find Rook. That's the plan. That's always been the plan.
So why can't I forget the feel of Reed pressed against me, the growl in my ear, the ocean and cedar scent that made my omega instincts sing?
I slide down the door until I'm sitting on the floor, waiting for the suppressant to cool the fire in my veins. It's just biology, I tell myself. Just stupid omega hormones reacting to an alpha. It doesn't mean anything.
But as I crawl into bed, the memory of Reed's hand on my waist, his breath in my hair, follows me into restless dreams.
Chapter18
Storm
"Keep your eyes down. Don't speak unless directly addressed. If my father’s ask you a question, answer as briefly as possible. No sarcasm, no attitude, no challenges." Jonathan paces back and forth in front of me, his voice clipped and precise. "You are to be seen and not heard."
I'm sprawled across the couch, deliberately taking up as much space as possible just to annoy him. We've been at this for over an hour now. Jonathan drilling ‘proper omega behavior’ into me for tomorrow's dinner with his fathers.
"And if they say something completely awful?" I ask, examining my nails with exaggerated casualness. "Do I still keep my eyes down like a good little omega?"
Jonathan stops pacing to glare at me. "Yes."
"What if they suggest something like, I don't know, bringing back omega breeding farms?" I press, watching his jaw tighten. "Still quiet?"
"Those don't exist anymore," he snaps.
"But they did," I counter. "And from what I've gathered about your father’s, they probably miss the good old days."
Jonathan pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture I've come to recognize as his 'Storm is giving me a headache' move.
"This isn't a debate. This is about survival," he says, his voice lower now. "My father’s aren't men you want to antagonize."
"I know how to handle assholes," I say, sitting up straighter. "I've been doing it my whole life."
"Not like my father’s, you haven't," Jonathan insists. "You have no idea what they're capable of."
Reed emerges from the hallway, looking as stern and brooding as ever. He pauses when he sees us, his stormy eyes lingering on me a beat too long. I resist the urge to shrink back, memories of last night flashing through my mind. His body pressed against mine, the growl in my ear, the iron control that kept him from giving in to what we both wanted in that moment of weakness.
"She giving you trouble?" Reed asks Jonathan, as if I'm not sitting right here.
