14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Shay

"Well, aren't you a tall drink of alpha water," the omega purred, his sunglasses perched down on his nose, so that I had a clear view of his blue-gray eyes, rimmed with long black lashes. He fluttered those lashes and shot me a megawatt smile that made all my brain cells misfire.

Wiping my hands on the rag I pulled from my back pocket, I stared dumbfoundedly at the thin beauty. He was leaning casually against the front counter of my dad's repair shop, looking like he'd just stepped out of an Abercrombie ad. If I walked through the Galleria mall, would I see him plastered next to the entrance to the store?

He looked like money, and glancing past him to the bright red Ford Mustang parked there, I knew it had to be his .

"Shay," my dad glanced at me over his shoulder, pointing with his pen, "can you take a look at Mr. Clark's car? He says it started smoking a few blocks away."

"Oh, none of that Mr. stuff," the omega giggled, waving his manicured hand at me, "call me Edward, please. Shay, is it? A lovely name for a lovely man."

"He's barely eighteen," Dad growled, scowling. "Shay, the car."

Tripping over my feet, I never moved so fast to get around the corner. His scent was delicate, sweet, flowery with a smoky hint. It took me a few seconds to place it. Lavender. He smelled like fresh lavender.

Popping the hood, he hovered behind me as I bent over to see if I could assess the car's issue with a quick glance.

"I know nothing about cars." His voice held a hint of laughter when he spoke, a little high-pitched and breathless. "I just put gas in it and expect it to go."

Wiping off the oil dipstick, I glanced over at him, struck again by his beauty. He was probably a few years older than me, or maybe it was just the way he carried himself that made him seem older. Cool and confident.

"When's the last time she had an oil change?" Sliding the dipstick back in, I double checked my findings. "Or had any oil put in her?" The car was basically running with no oil. He was lucky he hadn't cracked the engine block.

He waved his hand in the air like he had done earlier, smiling that smile of his that was brighter than the sun. "I have no clue. We usually have people for that. But Daddy said I needed to be responsible for it, but I wasn't sure what he meant by that." He shrugged, not at all concerned. "It was a present from my father for my twenty-first birthday." He pouted, the look on him somehow flirty and sexy at the same time. "I wanted a Porsche, but Papa said I wasn't responsible enough. "

Definitely older than me. But since I had turned eighteen two weeks ago, I was an official adult. And three years wasn't all that much in the scheme of things. "Well, it doesn't look like you've done any damage, but I'll need to pull her in a stall to make sure. And put oil in her."

"Her?" He pouted more, jutting his full, pink bottom lip out, his tone sounding jealous.

Smiling, I explained to him, "Cars and boats are usually referred to as females."

"Oh!" He straightened to his full height, which was still several inches shorter than me. "Like yachts! My friends are always calling their yachts ‘she'"

Shrugging, I just mumbled "Sure." Of course, he would think yacht when I said boat.

Holding out my hand, I silently asked for his keys. He placed them in my hand slowly, running his finger across my palm before releasing them. A shiver ran the entire length of my body at his touch, and heat raced through me that had nothing to do with the mid-May sun.

"How about after you put oil in…her," he leaned against the open hood, his pert ass resting on the edge, "you let me repay you. I'm on my way to a yacht party. A friend of a friend of a friend thing. You'd look hella pretty on my arm. We'd look so good walking in together. Everyone will be jealous of me."

"It's a school night," I offered lamely, wanting to kick myself for sounding like a kid. And a nerdy one at that. Really Shay? It's a school night? Lame.

He–Edward, he'd said his name was–leaned into me, one hand resting on my chest. His breath skimmed over my ear, warm and full of promises. "Don't you ever break the rules, Shay? It's fun to break the rules."

He stepped back, his blue eyes dancing, and raised a dark brow at me in challenge. "Come to the party with me, Shay! It will be fun! "

"You don't even know me." From my peripheral vision, I saw my dad frowning at me, from where he was working on the computer at the front counter.

"But I want to get to know you, handsome," Edward ran a finger over the material of my T-shirt, his blunt nail skimming over each of my nipples as he went. The small nubs instantly hardened, pushing against the cotton like it was a cold day in December.

No one had ever touched me like this, or so boldly. Sure, I had dated a little, but nothing had ever gone beyond a few innocent kisses. Nipple touching had definitely not been on the menu.

His scent was intoxicating, muddling my thoughts, and my dick chubbed in my jeans, like my nipples were hardwired straight to my cock.

"Come play with me, Shay," Edward sing-songed. "Being bad feels really, really good."

Edward had been right. Being bad with him had felt amazing. That night was full of many firsts for me.

First time lying to my dad. First time on a yacht. First time getting drunk and trying illegal drugs. First blow job and feeling an omega's tight, slick ass wrapped around my cock. First time missing curfew and skipping school the next day.

The dream morphed after that, snapshots of my life coming at me from every direction.

My dad's concern, then anger. Ignoring Asher's calls and texts. Ditching classes to spend time with Edward. Missing a graduation ceremony I wouldn't have received a diploma at.

Edward jumping into my arms just a few weeks later, telling me we were going to have a baby and spinning him around until we were both dizzy and laughing.

Edward straddling my chest, his hands wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air supply. His hair as it brushed against my face, tickling, when he leaned down to whisper harshly, "Remember this, Shay. Remember that I hold your life in my hands, and I can take it away anytime I want. Because you won't touch me. You won't hit me back. You're too fucking good for that, aren't you?"

"Edward," gasping, I clawed at his arms, trying to break his hold, desperate for air. "Stop."

His smile had been nothing short of evil, full of contempt and meanness. Nothing like the flirty, megawatt bright smile he had flashed me that first day. "Remember this if you wake up, Shay. At any time, I can kill you."

Fighting, I bucked against his body. The blankets and sheets trapped me, his strong thighs straddled me tightly, holding me down. His hands, so fucking strong for an omega, squeezed painfully. My body thrashed beneath his, my head jerking from side to side. I broke his hold long enough to yell, "Edward! Stop!"

"Shh, I'm here, Shay. Shh." The touch, so light, so gentle, instantly calmed me, stilling my restless limbs. It was like a balm falling over my entire body, and I knew that I was safe.

His hand rested on my bare chest, the skin tingling where skin met skin. Heat burned from his touch, and my eyes flew open. Staring into light green eyes, I didn't blink, didn't move, barely dared to try to take a breath.

The delicious scent of sweet cinnamon filled the room, instantly making my cock hard beneath the blankets that covered me from the waist down.

"You were dreaming," Bennet whispered in explanation for why he was on the bed next to me, in the middle of the night. His hands touched me, soothed me and made me burn for him in a confusing combination.

My heart was pounding like I had been running, my chest fluttering up and down in a rapid rhythm. My own scent filled the air, mixing with his. Mouthwatering, tempting sweetness and fresh earth after a summer rain. It was heady, filling my head with cotton, making my thoughts muffled.

My eyes focused sharply on Bennett, and it was like the sun had come out behind him there in the dark room, casting a soft glow around him. For the first time in a very long time, I could see clearly.

There was nothing else that mattered in that moment. Not Edward, or demons I might not ever outrun. Not unseen scars, that were there just beneath my surface, where no one but me could glimpse them. Not my son, sleeping peacefully across the hall.

It was just me and him.

Bennett.

My mate.

My fated.

His tongue poked out and traced his lips, like I had seen him do earlier that evening. Heat engulfed us, sizzling the air around us. Bennett's hand, where it touched me, felt like fire. Waves of heat rolled off his body.

He was warmth, and peace, and safety. Lust, desire, and need.

My hand moved of its own will, catching him by the back of the neck and pulling him down to me, stopping his descent just before our lips could touch.

Bennett's green eyes burned into me, not blinking, not closing. He was so still, not moving a single muscle, waiting to see what I would do with wide eyes.

Rasping, I told him, "I want to kiss you, Bennett."

He shivered, his body shaking. From my words or need, I wasn't sure. But there were so many reasons it would be wrong for me–for both of us–to give into this thing that was between us. For the better part of a week, we had both pointedly ignored it. Acted like it wasn't there. Like it wasn't always there. A living, breathing ball of want .

"It's wrong. Edward is still technically my mate. But we haven't been…intimate in a long, long time."

"I know," he whispered, not moving away. Not looking away. His eyes never leaving mine.

It was wrong. And it wasn't fair to Bennett. He didn't deserve any of this. But I wanted him more than I cared about the wrongness, the fairness, the pain and hurt that would surely follow in the wake of this.

I wanted him. More than I had ever wanted anything in my life.

More than I had ever wanted Edward.

"I need to kiss you," I repeated, tugging him just enough so that he lost his balance and sprawled on top of me. His skin burned me straight through the thin pajamas he was wearing. Straight to my soul.

He surrounded me with his heat, his scent, his need.

My hand caressed the back of his neck, chest to chest, and my hard cock pressed up digging into the softness of his thigh, separated by only the sheet.

"Do it," he gasped. Begging or ordering, possibly both.

Before the words had completely left his mouth, I captured his lips, devouring. Tasting him, learning him, making him mine.

He belonged to me. He was meant to be mine.

Nothing had ever felt more right, or true, or primal.

My tiger was just beneath my surface, pacing, pleased.

As the kiss went on, I didn't care about anything except this man in my arms. The feel of him, the way he tasted just like the donuts he smelled of, had me savoring each second it lasted .

Bennett was mine . My omega.

In that moment, I didn't care how absolutely fucked up my life was.

I wanted Bennett and I was going to have him.