My breath catches when his teeth graze over the puffy skin, careful but firm. Then he nips, and a sharp gasp rips out of me before I can stop it—shock slamming into pleasure so sudden my knees nearly buckle.
Knox chuckles low, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Did that feel good, omega?”
I shift in his hold, making my hip bump into the stove and the spoon clatter against the side of the pot. “Knox—” My voice comes out wrecked and airy, nothing like the sharp scolding I mean to give. Heat floods my face, and I try again, firmer this time…though it still falls apart on a shaky breath. “You’re supposed to be helping me. Not distracting me.”
I feel the curve of his smile against my skin. “You soundrealmad about it,” he teases, arms still cinched around my waist, holding me molded against the hard lines of his body.
“Knox,” I warn, though it comes out far too soft.I really don’t want to ruin the very first meal I cook for my pack.
The big alpha huffs a laugh, then presses a final kiss just below my ear before slowly loosening his hold. “Alright. I’ll behave. Promise.”
Freed, I fix my grip on the spoon, then stir the pasta, heat rising hot against my cheeks. My pulse is still rattling, but at least I can think without Knox’s hands on me.
Then, almost immediately, a broad hand cups my ass, squeezing like he can’t help himself.
I snap my head around, fixing the pack alpha with a pointed look. “Hey! You promised.”
He shrugs, the picture of an unrepentant alpha. “I lied.” His mouth lifts into a devilish grin, his voice dropping into a soft growl. “Are you going to punish me?”
Heat flashes and my sex throbs.
But before I can say anything, the front door clicks open, and I hear Tadeo’s quiet greeting mingled with Dakota’s bright laugh. Knox presses closer, his dark gaze sliding over every inch of my face. The way he’s looking at me feels so possessive and playful at the same time.
“What are you going to do about it, omega?” His voice rumbles, and my skin tingles.
Suddenly, the timer dings, snapping me out of the spell he’s captured me in.
I point the spoon straight at Knox’s chest, letting my voice carry every ounce of mock severity I can muster. “Saved by the bell,” I say, glaring up at him, breath still catching in spite of myself. “I’ll have to deal with you later.”
Knox chuckles as he leans in, his throaty purr curling right through me. “I can’t wait.”
The Next Day
Dakota
The morning sunslices through the windshield, making the old SUV feel even warmer than it already is. I’m jammed in the backseat with Skyla squished between me and Tadeo, knees pressed together, shoulders brushing.
I love touching her.
The tension is electric, small shocks of it running between us with every bump in the road.
Alex’s fingers drum on the dashboard as the opening riff of death metal rips through the speakers.
I roll my eyes, then reach up and smack his arm. “Seriously? Isn’t it a little early for all that screaming?”
“It’s never too early for Cannibal Corpse.” Alex glances back at me, his shaggy hair falling across his forehead. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”
I roll my eyes, sinking lower in the seat. The song changes—still heavy, but smoother, with a decent guitar riff threading through the chaos. Against my better judgment,my foot taps once against the floorboard. It’s really not that terrible, but I’d never admit that out loud.
Knox, of course, is in full dad-mode, reaching over the console to nudge the volume down while he drives. Predictably, as soon as his attention drifts back to the road, Alex’s hand creeps forward, twisting the knob up again. The guitars and growls crawl right back to ear-splitting levels.
Alex nods along, shoulders jerking with every thud of the bass. I glance at Skyla, sitting between me and Tadeo, and grin when she gives a tiny, helpless shake of her head. She’s still new to our chaos, but I think she likes it.
The drive settles into a strange rhythm after that—Alex humming tunelessly along with the guitar riffs and muffled lyrics. Knox’s jaw is set, pretending not to notice the volume creeping higher every time he looks away.
On the other side of Skyla, Tadeo’s shoulders are tight, stealing glances at the omega out of the corner of his eye. His hand slowly edges closer to her, millimeter by millimeter, like it weighs a hundred pounds to move it those last few inches. Finally, his knuckles brush the fabric of her borrowed joggers once, then they retreat, creeping back again.
It makes me want to smile.
