Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

H arper

The present

I wake, blinking in the darkness, trying to remember where the hell I am.

In bed with three alphas?

Nope.

On a couch.

At my mom’s house.

In Rockview.

I rub at my eyes and then freeze.

I can hear someone walking around in the house. Someone creeping around in the house. With all the lights out.

Terror grips my throat as I remember all those tales people have been telling me about omega kidnappings and abductions.

Shit! Shit shit shit!

Where the hell are those silly pups?

Then I remember, I’m not in my bed – which is the first place they’re going to look. If I hold my breath, don’t make a sound, then they won’t know I’m here.

The floorboards creak out in the hallway and the door of the lounge squeaks open.

Shit! My scent! I almost knock my palm against my head. Of course they’ll know where I am. My scent will lead them right to me like a cookie-crumb trail.

Desperately, I feel around in the dark for some kind of weapon. Something to defend myself. Anything will do.

My hand lands on silicone.

My vibrator. I grip it in my hand and curl up onto my knees. Peering through the gloom, I see a dark figure creeping through the room, although they don’t seem to have made me out yet.

I decide I have one chance. Just one chance.

I leap over the back of the sofa, wielding the vibrator in my hand, and launch myself at the intruder. I’m already swinging my vibrator towards their head when my sleepy brain computes the scent.

Daxton!

Shit!

But it’s too late, my arm’s already in motion and the vibrator cracks him neatly against the side of the head.

“What the– ow!”

He scrambles to defend himself and then somehow we’re both tumbling to the ground, me landing flat on top of him, my fist still gripping the vibrator like a weapon.

“Ooof!” he grunts. “Harper? Is that you?”

“Daxton?” I say, even though I know it’s him. The voice, the scent, shit even the way his body feels beneath me. I know who it is.

“What the hell?” he repeats, rubbing the side of his head. “Did you just hit me?”

“I thought you were an intruder.”

He peers through the gloom at my weapon.

“Did you hit me with a vibrator?”

“Maybe,” I say, tucking the vibrator discreetly behind my back.

“What are you doing creeping around downstairs in the dark at one am, armed with a vibrator? Wait!” he says, holding up his hand. “Maybe I don’t want you to answer that.” He peers towards the door. “Did I interrupt something? Is some dude about to come charging in here to start attacking me with a dildo?”

“What? No! Why would you think that?!”

“I thought, you know, maybe you hooked up with Mr. Slimeball or something,” he says sheepishly.

“Bleurgh, no, gross.” I giggle, then narrow my eyes. “Anyway, what are you doing creeping around the house in the dark at one in the morning? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital with Little Miss Freckles?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Little Miss Freckles?” I shrug. “Are you jealous?” I shrug again. He gives me a hard look, then continues: “We handed Cindy over to the ER staff, hung about a bit to check she was all right and then left – probably about five hours ago.”

“Oh, right,” I say, chewing the inside of my cheek. I’m still lying on top of him and somehow his hands have made their way to my hips without me noticing. I should probably climb off him. But I’m far too comfortable right where I am. “So … why are you here?”

Another sheepish look. “I didn’t want to wake everyone up by turning on all the lights.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here. You scared the living crap out of me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m here to pick something up.”

“At one am?”

The skin beneath his eye twitches. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“All those messages from your new adoring fans keeping you awake?”

He blows out air. “There have been a lot.”

“But it’s what you wanted, right?” I say, completely ignoring the way his fingers are stroking the exposed patch of skin between my top and my sleep shorts, and my left hand is sprawled against his firm chest. “An omega?”

“Yeah, an omega,” he growls so low it makes me jolt, my thumb hitting the vibrator so it starts buzzing in my hand.

I scream in alarm and fling the thing up in the air. It spins like a baton, then hits the carpet beside us and starts buzzing across the floor like an angry insect.

Daxton turns his head to look at it and his nostrils twitch. He turns his head slowly back to me, his hands tighter on my waist.

“So you’ve been using the vibrator for more than just smashing alphas on the head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“Nope, not a clue.”

He turns his head again, the vibrator now seems to be spinning in circles. “I recognize that device.”

“Again, don’t know what you mean,” I say.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, “I remember what we did with that device.”

“It was a long time ago. I don’t really remember.”

He glides his hand over the rump of my ass and squeezes it. “I could help jog your memory.”

I let out an involuntary whimper. Am I dreaming this? I’d fallen asleep with memories of this alpha swirling in my head. Now here I am, lying on top of him, his skin warm, his body hard, his scent delicious. However, I’m pretty sure this is actually happening, which is a bad, bad, bad idea. We let our hormones and our pheromones get the better of us before. We shouldn’t let it happen again.

“I don’t think that’s a very sensible idea, Daxton,” I whisper, wondering if he can hear how disappointed I sound. It sucks being sensible. It sucks being a grown up. It sucks doing the right thing.

“But you promised you’d help my pack, that you’d help me–”

“I don’t see how–” I begin, not following his meaning.

“I need reminding, Harper.” He rolls us over, so it’s him on top of me now, caging my body with his, his elbows braced either side of my face, his mouth hovering dangerously close to mine. “I need reminding how to be with an omega, how to please her, how to make her come.” He reaches his hand between us, gliding his palm up my thigh and to the gusset of my shorts. “You’d be doing me a huge favor, if you just gave me a little tutorial.”

“I …”

His thumb brushes along the seam of my shorts, caressing my pussy lips. “Tell me, do omegas like to be touched here?” He presses his thumb against my clit making me cry out. “Ahhh, here. This is where they like to be touched, right?”

“Everywhere, they liked to be touched everywhere,” I murmur.

“Fuck, Harper. Tell me where else. Where else do they like to be touched?” He caresses his hand up my body, over my stomach and my ribs and squeezes at my tit. “No bra. Is that normal for an omega? Or just slutty little omegas who like to get themselves off?”

“D-d-d-daxton,” I stutter as he tweaks at my nipple.

“Come on, Harper. You promised to teach us.” He leans in closer, whispering so his voice whistles right down my earhole. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

“It’s just teaching,” I pant.

“Just teaching,” he confirms.

I close my eyes. My heart is racing. My panties are wet with slick. And there’s a longing in my pussy.

It’s fine. I’m just going to give him a few tips. Tips that will help him on his journey to find an omega. That’s all. That’s all this is.

“Touch me again,” I instruct him. Or maybe I’m pleading.

“Where, Harp? Where do you want me to touch you?”

“Between my legs.”

“Yeah, between your legs. Then open your thighs for me, Omega. Open them nice and wide.”

I part my legs and he rolls down my sleep shorts and brings his nose in close, pressing it right against my mound, and inhaling.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you smell. Peaches, damn peaches. They’ve always been my favorite fruit.”

“Yes,” I say, “that’s good. Omegas like talk like that.”

“Does it make them slick their panties? Shall we see?” He yanks my underwear down. Then he’s staring at me, bare and exposed for him.

“Shit,” he mutters, swallowing hard. “Shit. So wet. Would an omega want me to touch her next?”

“Uh huh,” I murmur, my throat tight with tension.

He swallows again and I hear him murmur something about it being such a long time and then he glides his fingers through my folds, stroking me reverently for several minutes, a purr vibrating in his chest to match the buzzing on the floor. Then he finds my clit and – OH! Oooohhh! It’s so much better than the vibrator. He rings my clit achingly slow and all I can feel is his touch; all I can smell is his scent.

“Do they like it slow like this? Or fast like this?” He flicks his finger against me and it’s like a bolt of electricity. I moan. “Both, huh? And how about here?” He trails his fingers back through my folds, lingering at my hole to circle it gently and then slides his fingers inside. I’d forgotten just how long and how thick his fingers are. He hits the spot inside me and it’s like another bolt of electricity.

“Both,” I whimper, “they like both. All of it.”

He grunts and then he’s giving me both, the fingers in one hand deep inside my pussy, massaging at my spot, the other hand working my clit.

Stars burst against my vision and ecstasy swims across my body.

Oh jeez, I’d forgotten how amazing this could feel, how good it should feel. I forgot how it felt to be touched like this.

By him.

“Harper,” he murmurs sweetly, kissing the spot below my neck and I come loud and noisy on his fingers.

Just as we hear the front door swing open.