Page 14 of Pack’s Pledge

I nodded.

The sheepishness was back in his eyes, and as they flickered down to my mouth, then to my hands, clasped in front of me, the familiar old feeling was back: the buzz at the base of my spine, the flip flopping of my stomach, the flutter in my chest. The throb between my legs was new, but so was the broadness of his shoulders in his dress shirt, so were the veins on his hands as he had grabbed me. We had grown up, both of us, in the past eleven years.

“Then I’ll see you Sunday, Britt,” he said, and then he was gone, and I made the trek up to the third floor and my dark single apartment alone, my fingers tracing the lingering feeling of his hand on my wrist.

I was exhausted by the time I fell into bed, but the zing under my skin remained. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I had been innocently flirting with Adrian across the bartop. God, I had seenConalltonight. And thenBeau–I’d kissedBeau, shamelessly, wantonly, hadground against his thighon thedancefloorat abar–

And fuck, but I wanted to do it again. Not particularly because he was an omega, although I was sure that was part of it, it was part of him after all, but because…

The confident way he’d held me against him.

The way he’d kissed me, sensuous and without the hurriedness that I was used to from a man who wantedmore.

The complete trust he had in himself, and also, in his alphas.

I sighed.

I was, I was sure, covered in his scent–Conall and Adrian would have known what we had been doing on the dancefloor, even if they hadn’t been waiting to the side, watching, waiting. I brought my hair to my nose, burying my face in it. Nothing, just as I had known. But the minty taste of him remained in my mouth, even after I’d brushed my teeth.

There would be time to be ashamed tomorrow. Tonight, though… I slipped one hand into my pajama shorts and one up under my sleep shirt, pretending it was his hands on my skin, skimming over my folds, rubbing circles against my clit. I brought myself off quickly, efficiently, chasing my high over the edge fast and hard, Beau’s words in my ear as I came:Come home with me, baby.

But it was Conall’s face that drifted behind my eyelids as I fell into dreaming.

* * *

Sunday morning,I woke up to the irritating grind of my door buzzer.

I checked my phone. One in the afternoon. Okay, so not morning. But still–who was at my apartment? I groaned, not bothering to make myself presentable, and padded over to the intercom. I’d worked the later shift–Thursday’s six-to-midnight was my early night–both Friday and Saturday, then come home to scrub the pheromones from my skin and crash into bed before getting up to do it all again. Today I had a glorious day off.

And a date.

Or, well, a dinner, with an old friend. Was it a date? I wasn’t sure.

Okay, I’m awake.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Delivery for Ms. Britt Carter?” said a male voice.

“Stick it in the mailbox,” I said. “Or just leave it, I’ll be down in a second.”

“It’s from a mister… Boo? Bow? And Adrian, ma’am, and it says here, deliver to door. My boss was real sure it needed to go to the door. Sorry to bother you, ma’am.”

Ma’am?

“Okay, then leave it on the mat.” There was no way I was opening my door looking like this, but I buzzed him up, butterflies bursting in my stomach. A package? From Beau and Adrian? Footsteps sounded in the hallway, then a soft thump and a rap on the door before they retreated. I counted slowly from one, forcing myself to be more patient than I felt.

I only made it to eight before I pulled open the door and retrieved the package. Two packages, actually, each of them dark grey, with a creamy ribbon tied around them. I glanced down the hallway–nobody–and shuffled them inside, stacking them on the catch-all table by the front door.

I assumed Beau and Adrian knew I had a date–adinner–tonight. I knew Beau was interested in me, that much had been clear as crystal, what with his cock against my ass and the kisses on the dance floor.Come home with me, baby.I shivered as the ribbon slipped out of it’s bow with the gentlest tug, falling in a silky puddle on the cluttered table. I also knew Adrian was interested–but was he flirting with me for Beau’s sake, or his own?

But then, this date wasn’t withthe pack. It was withConall, because his pack wasn’t… exclusive? I didn’t know the terminology, but they’d been at Ardor, after all. If I had wanted to, I could have slept with just Beau, and Ididwant to–but not enough to wake up bleary-eyed the morning after to face a stern-faced, disapproving Conall.

Therefore.

Going on a dinner non-date with Conall didn’t mean thathewas interested.

I wouldn’t get my hopes up.

---