Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blake

I sway with the bag as Nathaniel lands another punch. It's one of hundreds since I dragged him down to the gym after we returned from the job site so he could work off his aggression.

Sweat drips down his chiseled body, his muscular arms flexing with each strike. His soaked tank top clings to him, accentuating every curve and groove of his toned form.

The leather and clove from Nathaniel's pheromones saturate the room, overpowering everything else. My heart pounds at this raw, untamed side of him. Usually, when one of us goes into rut, there are more signs, so we have time to prepare and decide how to handle it.

Did Chloe's presence here send Nathaniel into pre-rut?

As his punches finally lose strength, I peek around at his flushed face. "Better?"

Nathaniel lets out a ragged breath, exhaustion painted across his handsome features as he walks over to a padded bench. He collapses onto it and hangs his head, struggling to slow his heart rate.

I stay by the punching bag, out of grabbing distance in case Nathaniel hasn't burned off enough of his aggression. Alphas don't have self-lubricating assholes like Omegas do, and I'm not risking him taking my ass with no prep.

His hands flex before he pulls off his fingerless gloves, tossing them to the mat with a soft thud. Pushing back his sweaty, blond hair, he scrubs his face with the collar of his shirt, leaving flushed skin in its wake.

When he meets my eyes, his are clear and tired, the aggression inside him calmed for now. "Thank you. I didn't realize what was happening, but you had my back, even after the way I treated you this morning."

My shoulders sag with relief that this wasn't a full rut. "You're good now?"

He nods and rests back on his hands, his chest still rising with fast breaths. "Yeah, I'm good. Are we?"

"Yeah, we are." Safe to approach now, I join him on the bench. "I'm used to you being an asshole."

"Fuck you," he says without heat and releases a long sigh as he leans against my shoulder, his sweat-slicked skin feverish hot from his workout. "I shouldn't have accused you of not caring about the project. You're down at the work site more often than I am. And what I said about Quinn was wrong."

"Damn right, it was," I agree, not letting him brush it aside like it meant nothing. "Don't do it again, or next time, we'll be in the ring correcting that bad behavior."

The raised platform across the gym with its taut ropes still tempts me. While Nathaniel beats me in height, I've got more muscle, so our bouts usually end in a draw. It wouldn't be the first time we've come to blows to solve a disagreement.

His deep laughter rumbles through the room. "Deal."

"All right then." I stand and tap him on the shoulder. "Let's hit the showers, then get some sleep."

Nathaniel nods in agreement, and together we leave the gym, heading up to our bedrooms on the second floor.

At Nathaniel's room, I slap his back on the way past. "G'night."

He catches my arm to stop me, his dark-brown eyes searching mine. "Are we really okay?"

"Yeah, we're good," I assure him, my voice softening. "Just make it up to Quinn the next time she stays the weekend."

A smile spreads across his face, lighting him up despite the exhaustion. "I'll polish the tea set and everything."

"She'll love that," I say, warmth traveling through the bond we share.

Nathaniel pulls me in for a sweaty embrace, his body heat radiating against my skin. "I don't like being at odds with you. I'm glad we worked things out."

"Me, too." I return the hug, his scent home to me. We've known each other too long for something like this to come between us.

Nathaniel steps back and ruffles my hair, loosening it from the tie so it falls around my face. "Get some sleep."

"Will do." I back down the hall. "Don't stay up all night, replaying our fight. It's over."

With a nod, he closes the door to his room.

Body buzzing from the workout, I turn and head to my room next door, stepping inside.

Our rooms all mirror each other, but I painted my wall hunter-green, with pictures Quinn drew hanging in frames. The squares of the plush quilt that covers my bed reflect the colors of the forest and the rich mahogany furniture brings the view of nature outside my window into my space.

A sense of calm washes over me as I pad across the soft carpet to the ensuite bathroom.

After shedding my clothes, I step under the warm spray of water in the shower, the tension from the workout with Nathaniel unraveling from my muscles.

Despite how relaxed my body is now, it can't wash away the endorphin rush from exercising, and without Nathaniel requiring my focus, my stomach rumbles with a reminder I skipped dinner.

I dry off and throw on a pair of comfortable sweats before heading downstairs for a late-night snack, hoping it will ease the restlessness enough for me to go to sleep. Even though we stayed in the gym until after midnight, Nathaniel will be up at dawn and expect to walk down to the job site together.

In the kitchen, the soft glow of the open refrigerator spills onto the tiled floor, revealing someone else already rummaging through its contents.

Holden must have had the same thought as me. Despite his early bedtime, he often gets up in the middle of the night for a little nibble.

Grinning, I sneak up behind the fridge door, ready to surprise him.

As the door swings shut, I lift my hands, fingers hooked into claws. "Boo!"

Too late, I catch the whiff of flowers and realize my mistake.

A shriek splits the air, and Chloe hurls a Tupperware container at me. It smacks me square in the forehead, and I stumble back, more in shock than pain.

Her pink eyes widen in recognition, and she rushes forward. "Oh my gosh, Blake! I'm so sorry. You scared me!"

"No, it's okay." I wave her apologies away. "It's my fault for playing a bad prank."

"Let me look at your poor face." Her sweet scent curls around me as her delicate hands urge me down to her height.

I bend, our faces inches apart, and revel in the electric jolt that runs through me as her fingers brush against my skin. "See? I'm fine."

"You have a red mark." The worry in her voice tugs at my heart. "We should ice it."

"Trust me, I've taken harder hits," I say, appreciating the tender concern she shows. "Your Tupperware assault is nothing compared to being conked in the head by a two-by-four."

Eyes meeting mine, she blushes at the nearness of our faces, and her arms drop to her sides.

Not ready to let her touch go just yet, I catch her hands and bring them back to my face, the warmth of her skin sending tingles through me. "You have good reflexes."

"And an overactive imagination." She gives me an adorable glare. "You're lucky I wasn't holding the juice container. You'd have a concussion right now and no hospital nearby."

"Lucky indeed." I rub my cheek against her palms. "What did you imagine?"

"Masked serial killer with a machete," she says with a seriousness that draws a chuckle from me. "Or a government experimented on a bear that's now sentient and out for blood."

"Those are quite the choices." I lean into her touch. "Tell me, why is such an adorable little mouse sneaking around the kitchen searching for food?"

Chloe wiggles her fingers in my beard, a sheepish expression on her face. "I got caught up on work and didn't come out for dinner."

"Any update on getting access to your social accounts?"

Her expression relaxes with relief as she nods. "They sent an automated response, so I called and just kept asking for someone higher up until I got a manager. They're escalating the situation and have put my account on hold for now."

"Not ideal, but good progress."

"That was my thought on it, too. And it took all day." Her shoulders slump. "Holden popped his head into my room before he headed to bed and told me to take anything I wanted from the fridge."

"Ah, so did you find the pot pie?" I ask, remembering how she staked her claim to it earlier.

"I did." She pouts at the Tupperware container on the tiled floor, now sitting upside down. "But it's a flat pie now. Or a smushed pie?"

She looks so adorable, mourning the loss of her prize that I brush my thumb over her bottom lip, her skin soft to the touch. "Don't fret. It will still taste yummy."

Unable to resist, I lean in and press my mouth to hers. A gasp parts her lips, and I skim my tongue along the seam, encouraging her to open wider. When she does, our breaths mingle, and my cock stirs.

Before I lose all self-control, I step back and scoop her up, setting her on the counter. "Wait here while I prepare you the most amazing smushed pot pie ever."

Face flushed, she giggles and kicks her feet as I turn to retrieve the fallen container.

Her pheromones thicken with desire, tempting me to taste more of her, but I resist the urge, for now.

First, I'll satisfy our hunger in another way.

As I place Chloe's Tupperware in the microwave, setting the timer, my stomach grumbles, reminding me I need to eat, too. The hum of the food heating fills the kitchen as I rummage through the fridge, settling on some leftover chicken and a salad for myself.

By the time I finish assembling my meal, a ding announces that Chloe's is ready, too. Grabbing two forks, I fetch her flattened but still delicious-smelling pot pie, then hop up to sit beside her, our legs brushing together.

"Will Holden be upset we're sitting on the counter instead of on the stools?" she asks, taking a bite of her food and moaning in appreciation.

My cock twitches in response, but I ignore it to hook my foot around hers. "We're eating after midnight, so we're already being naughty."

She giggles and then moans and wiggles with delight as she eats several mouthfuls before she turns to me. "How was work today? Did the storm cause any more damage?"

While we finish our late dinners, I share about the damage to the dock and how I spent the day fixing it so things can return to normal.

"How was your day?" I stab the last piece of chicken in my bowl. "Did you get your laundry done?"

"I did…" Pink the same shade as her hair blossoms in her cheeks as she ducks her head.

"Uh oh." I bump my shoulder against hers. "Did you break one of the washers? Don't worry, I'll fix it before the owners of the resort find out."

Her giggle bubbles up like fizzy water, and it makes me lighter than I've been all day. "No, nothing like that. It's just…"

She nibbles on her bottom lip and peeks at me from the corner of her eye. "Well, I came here for two weeks, so I packed fifteen undershirts, fifteen pairs of socks, fifteen shorts, and…"

She hesitates again, her blush deepening into a crimson hue.

"Sounds reasonable for a two-week trip," I say, trying to coax the rest of the story from her.

"Right, but when I was putting away my clean clothes, I only found thirteen underwear," she blurts out, her cheeks puffing as she exhales in embarrassment.

I chuckle at her confession. "Well, that is quite the mystery. Would I be wrong to assume you're only wearing one pair at the moment?"

The teasing question earns me a playful slap on the arm. "Of course!"

Sliding off the counter, I move our dirty dishes to the sink, then return to box her in with my hands on either side of her on the countertop. "So, are you telling me to go on a panty raid?"

"No!" Laughing, she pounds her tiny fists on my chest, her dainty feet kicking at my legs. "I want to go find them myself."

"No can do. It's too dangerous." I catch her wrists gently, her skin petal soft to my calloused fingertips. "For your sake, I will brave this hunt alone, leaving no corner of the cabin unturned."

Her flush spreads down her neck, making me want to discover if her whole body will turn pink. "No, you're so evil."

"I will search high and low, beneath the bed and the bathtub. Unless…" I pause and gasp in mock-shock. "You didn't strip down naked in the front room, did you? Will I find your panties under the des?—"

She lunges forward, catching me off guard as her mouth crashes into mine.

When she glares at me from inches away, I smile against her lips. "Is this your way of shutting me up?"

Without moving away, she mumbles, "It was my only choice since you still hold my hands prisoner."

"So I do." And I love the way her pulse quickens beneath my thumbs.

Head tilting to the side, I deepen the kiss, seeking her heat. Her lashes flutter down, and she melts into me with a little whimper, her pheromones thickening in the air until it smells like we stand in the center of a lush garden.

A purr of approval vibrates in my chest, and I lift her hands to my shoulders, releasing them. Her arms encircle my neck, drawing me closer as her tongue curls against mine in the sweetest caress.

My cock hardens, remembering how warm and wet she was for me last night. All day, I've been craving a return to that heat. I grip her hips, pulling her forward on the counter, and her legs wind around my waist.

The warmth of her core sears through my sweatpants, and I pull back to rest our foreheads together, my breaths coming fast. I want this Omega, and I know I could claim her on the island, saturate the kitchen with our pheromones, so when Holden comes down in the morning, he knows I took the first step toward claiming her for us.

But she deserves better.

I scoop my hands under her plump ass and lift her into my arms.

Her hold around my neck tightens. "Where are we going?"

"Tonight, we're doing this the right way, in a bed." I turn to the door, but then slow, remembering consent should be verbalized. "Unless you don't want to?"

The heat of her core pressed against my hard cock and the pheromones flooding the air scream yes.

At my question, though, she hesitates.

I freeze mid-step. "Chloe? Do you not want this?"

Is there a chance she doesn't feel the pull of the bond, too?