Page 39 of Pack Rivals, Part One

I stare at my bewildered reflection.

I can do this. Didn't I attend my own flipping wedding reception without my groom? Dinner with two alphas is nothing in comparison to that.

I'm confident in this assertion until I walk out of the bathroom and straight into the solid wall of muscle that is Silver Boston.

10

Bea

I teeter on my heels,and Silver grabs my waist and stops me from taking a tumble.

"Are you all right, Bea? I came to check on you."

"Fine," I say gulping, noticing the way his strong fingers pinch the skin of my waist ever so slightly. "I'm fine."

The corridor is poorly lit, dark and hidden from the rest of the restaurant. It's just us two here. Just us two, the distant clink of cutlery and glasses, and the loud beat of his heart right in front of my face.

He exhales one long continual breath, his hands not leaving my waist.

"Shit, Bea."

"Uh huh," I whisper, slowly lifting my face. I take in the broad cut of his shoulders, the flash of a solid black tattoo at the collar of his shirt, his neck, his jaw, and then his mouth.

Have I been avoiding looking at this man's mouth? Because why is it that only now do I notice how plush and tender his lips look? A deep red color that reminds me of strawberries and redcurrants and all the things sweet in the world.

I hardly know this man and yet right now all I want is for him to kiss me with those lips.

As if reading my mind, he asks me, "Have you ever been kissed by an alpha before?"

I think he knows the answer to that but I mumble a no, anyway.

"Would you like to be kissed by an alpha, Bea?"

Here in this restaurant, where anyone could spot us making out?

Yes. Yes, I would.

I can't manage to move my mouth to say the words though, not when I'm entranced by his scent, and his mouth, and his grip on my waist. Not when my body is tingling all over like an electric shock brought it into life.

"I want to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you last night. So fucking badly."

He leans down and I close my eyes. I know it's coming and yet the press of his lips against mine stills my heart and freezes the breath in my chest. Because, oh, ooooooh, his lips are a million times softer, a million times plumper, a million times more … skilled, than they looked.

He kisses me and somehow I find the ability to respond. My mouth moves in tandem with his. Gentle careful touches at first. Testing, tasting, feeling each other, but then firmer and stronger, until one of his hands cradles the back of my head and his fingers tangle in my hair. He kisses me so hard, I lift up onto my toes and little explosions of ecstasy erupt in my belly.

Did he … did he just make me come?

He pulls away gently and I open my eyes. His pupils are black as midnight yet fire seems to dance in them.

Never, never in our eight years together did Karl ever look at me this way, and I realize in this moment how addictive this game could become, how dangerous for a heart like mine.

I don't care. I want to play it anyway. Screw everything else. Screw all those promises I made about steering clear of men. If a man can make me feel this way, I'm all in.

"I'm reconsidering my options here," I say.

"What do you mean?" He traces his thumb down the back of my neck.

"I think I might actually be open to dating after all."

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