Page 52 of Soulmates
Connor turns his formidable attention to me. He’s the first member of the Elite I’ve met, andJesus fuck,he’s scary when he wants to be. “Roll up your sleeve and give him your arm.” His expression softens for just a moment. “I know this is weird, but since we don’t know what’s really going on, the tracking thing could be important.”
“You’re not really giving me a choice.” My voice has more balls than I would have expected.
“No, I’m not.”
Trajan scoffs, his frown cutting deeper, but I do as Connor asked and roll up my sleeve. I extend my arm so it’s within Trajan’s field of vision, but he doesn’t move.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says.
“Yeah.” Connor nods, his expression the very definition of regret. “I do.”
Our little tableau freezes until slowly, drawing out every last breath, Trajan raises his hands and wraps them around my arm. He lowers his head. His lips brush the bare skin of my wrist. He never once looks at me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and then he bites.
It’s like being scalded with bliss. My dick is instantly so hard, it could cut right through these cute corduroy trousers. He pulls, swallows, and pulls again. The pleasure/pain thrusts into me, again and again and again. I’m making a wet spot on my pants and I don’t even care. This is the most erotic thing I’ve ever done, and I should hate being forced into it, but I don’t.
Through it all, Connor’s there. Warm. Sure. A copper heart to Trajan’s moonlit soul. Yeah. Fuck. If I’m spouting poetry, things are really screwed.
With a single lick, he closes the wound. He might have kissed me, too, but I’m too flustered to care. I don’t feel any different. Maybe a little itchy from the wet spot. I’m just glad I didn’t come. When it comes to clothing, I can work a lot, but plaid pajama pants on a cross-country flight might be pushing it.
“Our ride will be here in five,” Connor says. I sag against the couch. Trajan sits with his head in his hands.
Way to make a guy feel wanted, Rocky.
Our ride can’t come soon enough.
OXO
It’s dark when we leave LA and broad daylight when we land. A windowless van picks us up from some underground transit spot at Dulles. More evidence of Elite efficiency. Trajan’s groggy, but we get him to the hotel before he completely passes out.
We’re booked into a suite in the Hotel Omni. Two bedrooms—one vampire-ready, the other with two queen beds—and a living area. The space is bland and lovely, and from our window, the swimming pool sits like a turquoise jewel fourteen stories below. We don’t get to enjoy any of it because as soon as we get Trajan tucked away, it’s time to visit Dad.
I’d feel better if Trajan were with us, but our appointment is for eleven a.m. Connor calls an Uber, and we’re good to go. I figure I can talk Dad off the ledge and be back before Trajan wakes up.
“This should be interesting,” Connor says, his forcibly light tone an attempt to diffuse my tension. We’re in the elevator, and for some reason, he’s standing close enough for me to feel the heat of his body. I catch the woodsmoke scent of phouka.
I tip my head so he’ll get the full effect of my flirty smile. “Thanks for being here with me.”
Our gazes clash. Hold. The temperature in the elevator car rises faster than the car is dropping.
“I didn’t realize how much trouble you were in. I should have stepped in earlier, but…”
I shrug. “Coming back from the dead has it’s challenges.”
“Yeah.”
I’m not convinced that’s his only reason, although whatever he’s tied up in is likely more complicated than a junior alpha were getting spanked.
“There’s something else I want to do, too.” Connor’s whisper tickles my skin. Before I can reply, he leans over and kisses me. One minute I’m standing there like a slightly travel-worn preppie, and the next I’m crushed against the wall, his lips giving me a lesson in wanting what I can’t have.
Our kiss is hot and sweet. His tongue teases me, and I stretch on my toes so I can get more. Deeper. We don’t stop till the elevator does, and then he steps back, his fingers caressing my cheek. “That,” he says. “I really wanted to do that.”
“I…” Have no idea how to respond. It takes a lot to leave me speechless, but Connor the maybe-phouka-turned-Elite, has done it.Damn. The elevator door opens and I step through in a fog of confusion.What the hell just happened?
On the way to meet my father, we’re silent. Between feeding Trajan and kissing Connor, I might have whiplash. And DC is DC. Classier than LA, but just as crowded. Too many people holding the fate of the world in their cell phones.
We get out of the Uber at the right building and jog up the steps. Connor’s probably armed, which could be a problem, but it’s not. We head up to the twenty-seventh floor, and I lead the way to the American Were Authority offices. The receptionist looks familiar, but I can’t remember her name. Doesn’t matter. She’s pack. I don’t care how crazy things get, the sense of having allies, confidants, friends, is good.
