Page 9 of A Baby for the Beast
"Yeah, the omega." I chuckle, trying to figure out how to ask him to rescue me without sounding every bit like the damsel in distress I currently am.
"What's wrong? Where are you?" Remus asks, somehow already knowing that something is the matter even though, for all he knows, I could've been calling for a booty call already.
I sniffle, cursing myself for crying so easily and for this being what I'm about to cry about. He sounds genuinely worried, and my crying won't make that any better. Damn, what if he actually likes me, though? I clear my throat, hoping I don't sound as close to sobbing as I feel.
"I have a flat tire, and I don't know where I am, and there are bears, or at least I don't know if there are not bears." Oh, I'm such a hot mess.
"Okay, it's okay, there aren't any bears here," Remus tells me, and I sniffle again, at least appreciating that I now know I'm not going to be eaten by a bear tonight. "Can you send me a pin of your location? We're on seventy-five heading south, but we'll get to you as soon as we can."
My brows furrow as I pull up my location to send his number. "I think I'm heading south on seventy-five, too."
"Then we'll get to you even sooner." Remus pauses. When he speaks again, his voice is further away. "I got your location. We were right behind you, baby. We'll be there in a couple of minutes."
I whimper at the pet name slipping so easily from his lips and then curl my toes in my shoes because I shouldn't be that easy to win over. A single baby, a lousy purr, and I'm falling head over heels. It's a miracle I haven't been bitten and claimed by some jackass already because my standards are in the gutter.
"Are you hurt?" Remus's care for my well-being would be sweet if it weren't for the snort that comes through the other end, telling me he put me on speaker phone when he got my location, so he wasn't the only one in his car to hear the needy little whimper I just let out.
"That omega is not hurt," a familiar voice, Jace, the other alpha with him, jokes.
Remus huffs on the other side of the phone instead of saying anything else. I'm not about to confirm that I'm not hurt either because I don't trust my voice right now. Will I be weepy? Will I be horny? Who knows? Not me.
A lone car's headlights shine in my rearview mirror off in the distance, and I hope it's them. Not that I'm scared of bears anymore. But the woods are looking even scarier now, and there's a good chance there's like a serial killer in them. I place my hand on my abdomen to try to soothe some of my worries.
"You have your hazards on?" Remus asks the headlights I'm watching, starting to slow and pull off the road behind me.
"Yeah, did you just pull up, or am I about to be murdered?" I ask, sinking lower into the passenger seat.
"I'm here with Jace. Where are you, pretty girl?" his voice sounds strained.
I wonder if this is what it feels like to have an alpha in it for more than just a bit of fun—one who wants to provide, protect, and take care of me. The idea has my heart hammering in my chest as my driver's side door is opened.
"There you are," he says with such fondness that I shouldn't be surprised by my affection-starved brain and body. Both respond in the only way I know how to keep an alpha around. I fill the car with so many pheromones that if he's scent-matching me, he'd be on top of me in–
Remus might be unable to squeeze his whole body over the center console to cram himself into the passenger seat with me, but he tries. His long, strong fingers wrap around my throat, holding me in place as his other hand rests gently on my stomach. His face is close to mine, his eyes shining so bright it's almost painful to look at them.
"You are so perfect," he whispers.
It's not at all what I'm expecting. I'm ready for some growling and barking and commanding me to bend over the car's hood so he can rut into me. Instead, he's stroking my scent gland with his thumb, rubbing soft circles where Tessie is trying to kick him. He's trying so hard to purr even though it sounds like he's dying.
He keeps his face close to mine, breathing so hard I can feel his breath against my mouth. What does he smell like? I get faint whiffs of mint but nothing substantial, and who's to know if that's even coming from him with how off my nose has been lately? I burned toast a few mornings ago and thought it smelled like cherry turnovers.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, as though I'm not mentally trying to project into his mind that I want him to toss me into the backseat and fuck me.
I nod slowly. I don't think he'd hurt me, but it's good to let beasts control things when they're out. They can be temperamental sometimes, and I'm not trying to upset him. I'venever been hurt in all my time messing around with them, but there are always stories.
His lips find mine, gentle, soft, unlike any other beast I've kissed before. It's chaste, too, which has me furrowing my brow when he pulls away before I'm satisfied. I can't stop the whimper from the back of my throat. Instead of signaling to him that I'm in the sexy kind of distress where I need him to kiss it and make it better, he thinks he's hurting me and scrambles so far away from me that he's back to standing outside the car.
"Okay," I mumble under my breath.
I sit in the car for a second, trying to make sense of what just happened because I'm putting off enough pheromones in here to put him in a rut if he were scent-matching me like he said he was. Yet, he's now pacing in front of the car, his hands on the back of his head as he growls low, talking to himself.
I give him about thirty seconds to figure his shit out, and then I'm wiggling out of the car, head tilted down because, damn, if he doesn't just demand submission when he's out. It's hard to fight the urge to offer my neck to him, but I don't do that for alphas who haven't earned the privilege. So far, none of them have earned it, though plenty do get pissed when they growl and my neck isn't offered.
"Are you okay?" I ask, snapping him out of whatever argument he's having with himself.
The dominance in the air seems to lessen, and when I look up, his eyes are dark again, with a hint of anguish in the crinkled corners and tight press of his lips.
"Where's your spare?" he asks, and I look at him like I don't understand what in the fuck he's saying because I don't. We were just kissing, and now he's asking about…? Oh, tire. A spare tire.
