Page 154 of Claiming the Pack's Omega
“Did—did you have fun?" He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“I did,” I say, brushing some of his messy hair away from his face. “I really did.”
I lean in and kiss him softly. His hands come to rest at my waist as he eagerly settles into a softer, more intimate rhythm.
“I’ll let you clean yourself up,” I whisper. “I’ll be helping Stone with his bandages, okay?”
“Okay,” Milo nods.
“That was the best I’ve ever slept, by the way. We should do that some more too,” I say over my shoulder as I shut the door to Milo’s bedroom behind me.
CHAPTER 33
Stone
Recovery has gone better than I thought it would. My wounds are starting to hurt less and less each day, and I’m getting a wider range of motion with my arm.
Even though I’m getting better, nothing has changed how bored I feel.
I’m so used to being on the go all the time. From the moment my eyes open when I wake up to the time they close when I go to sleep, I’m used to pouring all my energy into work.
I don’t know what to do with myself, considering the fact that I’ve been stuck on bedrest for the past couple of days.
I feel useless, especially after Milo came in with that video he found of an underground, illegal feral alpha fighting ring. The only thing I could do with that situation was call some of the detectives at the station.
My heart instantly starts racing when I hear Reyna’s tentative knock on my bedroom door. She still knocks like she doesn’t know whether she’s allowed in. I should figure out a way to fix that. She’s welcome in my room anytime she likes.
I push myself up so I’m sitting up against the headboard and run a hand through my hair. Considering my buzz cut, running my hand through my hair makes no difference to myappearance, but I can’t help but be a little more image-conscious around her.
I certainly know I don’t look the best. I took a look at myself in the mirror last night when I was getting ready for bed, and I noticed I’ve been losing a decent bit of muscle mass.
It’s a silly thing to hyper-fixate on, considering I nearly lost my life, but still.
“Come in,” I call out when I’m finally satisfied with doing my best to look good enough for Reyna.
My jaw nearly drops when she walks in. Her jet black hair is mussed and messy. Like she was just freshly fucked. The flush in her cheeks and the sweetness and electric notes to her petrichor scent, mixed with Milo’s gunmetal all over her, make me think that’s not out of the realm of possibility.
My eyes lazily draw down her body, catching on the thin, tight tank top that hugs her perfect tits and hints at the outline to her nipples. Her sleep shorts showcase the muscular and toned legs I feel like she has to spend at least some time working in the gym for. They remind me of a more comfortable version of the shorts she wore when she was a ring girl.
Tight, practically nonexistent, and hot as fuck.
What can I say, as someone who goes to the gym religiously—at least when I’m not stuck in bed after being tortured—I appreciate a nice ass.
And Reyna’s?
God, it’s?—
“My eyes are up here,” she says, resting a hand on her hip and rolling her eyes playfully.
My gaze instantly jerks up and I let out a soft cough.
“Sorry,” I say, clearing my throat.
“I was just teasing you, don’t worry, you can look all you want,” she says.
A slow grin tugs at my lips.
“Well then why don’t you give me a little spin?” I say, my voice low.
