Page 72 of Ready or Knot

Her look is answer enough, though she shakes her head a second later. The woman makes another comment, and I turn to her, scowling. The man next to her has an arm swung around her, but his attention is on Faedra, his eyebrow raised.

“God, they already get preferential treatment by pretty much everyone. Can’t they just leave us be with the Alphas that don’t want to bond? Honestly.”

The man murmurs something into her ear, and she scoffs. I growl, but Faedra grabs my wrist, her face still pale. Breathing through my nose, I take a minute to regroup before I lose my shit on an insecure Beta. I’m up and guiding Faedra into the aisle the moment the inning ends, my focus locked on her.

“Let’s go, Red,” I whisper, and she sucks in a breath.

“I’m sorry.” Her apology is faint, her shoulders rolled in a rare display of nerves, and that rage boils in me again.

“It’s alright. You don’t deserve hearing that the whole game.”

* * *

“I’m sorry I forgot scent blockers,” Faedra says. Again. She sets her shoes under the table, gathering her hair over one shoulder before glancing back at me, her eyebrows pinched. “I know you were so excited to see your client play. I’m sorry I—”

I can’t take it anymore. I set a finger against her lips, stopping her mid-sentence, and step into her. She doesn’t shy away, her eyes growing bright as I close the distance between us, her jasmine scent intensifying.

“There will be plenty more times to go see him,” I say, dragging my finger down her lips and to her chin, tilting her face so I can kiss her. “Do you want something to eat?”

She nods and turns to walk into the kitchen, but I grab her hips and pull her against me, letting my own scent mix with hers. She hums, tilting her head back against my shoulder.

“You smell like sandalwood,” she murmurs, her eyes half closed, her cheeks flushed.

She’s on the cusp of her heat. There’s probably only a matter of days until she drops into it even if she doesn’t take the stimulant. The idea excites me more than it probably should. I’ve never gotten an Omega through a heat before. I could royally fuck it up, especially when she hasn’t even taken my knot. She presses her nose into my throat, humming against my skin before tilting her head enough to catch my gaze.

I swear she reads my mind because she whispers, “I don’t want our first time to be my heat.”

“It won’t,” I assure her.

“I’ve been here for two weeks,” she murmurs, and I run my thumb up her throat, swallowing a groan when her scent manages to double in intensity again. “Part of me thinks you don’t want to knot me at all.”

I make a derisive noise in the back of my throat.

“Trust me, Red. I spend most days dreaming about different ways to fuck you. You eating that pretzel was damn near torture.”

Honestly, I’m going to be lucky to get food in her before I’m in her. With a soft touch on her back, I guide her through the condo and to the kitchen. She hops onto the counter, adjusting her skirt as she sits cross-legged, her eyes intent on me.

Fuck, I’m hard.

Raking my hand through my hair, I open the fridge and start pulling options. Faedra sings under her breath as I work, a Taylor Swift song that she has playing nearly everyday from the small speaker we keep in the living room that I still don’t know the words to.

“What’s that one called?” I ask as I bring over a bowl of fruit and the container of yogurt.

She blushes, the dark red obscuring her freckles and making her eyes even brighter. Her tongue darts out and traces her bottom lip, and I stifle a groan.

Have I mentioned that I’m hard?

Because holy hell.

I pull a strawberry from the bowl and dip it into the yogurt, raising an eyebrow as she hesitates to respond.

“I always forget that one. Remind me,” I say, holding the strawberry out for her.

“This Love.”

She takes a bite as I nod. “Do you have the vinyl?”

She’s been collecting her favorites all week since Jude got her the record player. It surprises me when she shakes her head. “I didn’t have a record player at school, and it only came out last year.”

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