I drop onto his couch with a groan that I can’t quite suppress, my entire body protesting the movement. But underneath all the soreness is this deep satisfaction that makes me want to stretch out like a cat in a sunbeam. I lean my head back against the cushions and let that smug grin spread wider across my face.
“It was everything I hoped for and more,” I say, and I can hear the satisfaction dripping from my voice.
Wooil barks out a laugh, shaking his head as he grabs two bottles of cider from his mini fridge and tosses one to me. I catch it, crack it open, and take a long drink. The carbonation stings my split lip but I don’t even care.
“You’re fucking insane, you know that?” Wooil says, dropping into the chair across from me. “I mean, I knew that already, but this really drives it home. You look like you barely survived.”
“Worth every bruise,” I say, taking another sip. And I mean it. The constant edge of sexual frustration that’s been riding me for months is finally, finally dulled. I feel loose and relaxed in a way I haven’t in forever, like someone finally scratched an itch I couldn’t reach.
Wooil takes a drink of his cider, eyeing me over the bottle. “So now that you’ve finally gotten your ass pounded into oblivion, does this mean you’ll be less insufferable to be around? Because I have to tell you, the sexual frustration was getting old.”
“I make no promises,” I say, but I’m in too good a mood to really mean it.
“Big words for someone who looks like they can barely string a sentence together.”
I flip him off again, lazily this time.
Wooil leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his bottle. “The guys have been asking about you, you know. Wondering where you disappeared to. We’re thinking about hitting up the club tonight if you’re up for it.”
I consider this. Normally the idea of going to a club and dealing with pushy omegas and disappointing alphas would make me want to stay home and drink alone. But right now, riding this wave of post-fuck satisfaction, I actually feel like being social. Maybe I can even stomach entertaining some omegas for once, throw the guys a bone by attracting some attention their way with my pheromones.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, surprising both of us. “Why not? I could use a drink.”
Wooil’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You’re actually agreeing to go out without me having to beg and bribe you?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
“No, no, this is good. This is great, actually.” He grins. “Maybe getting railed by a gangster is exactly what you needed. Should’ve suggested it months ago.”
I finish my cider and set the empty bottle on the floor beside the couch, too comfortable to get up and throw it away properly.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask, closing my eyes and letting my head loll back against the couch. “What time are we meeting up?”
“Around ten? Gives you time to go home and make yourself look slightly less like a domestic violence victim.”
I snort. “Not sure that’s possible at this point.”
“At least change your shirt. That turtleneck is not doing you any favors.”
“It’s hiding the worst of it.”
“Barely,” Wooil says. “But whatever, wear what you want. Maybe the battle damage will attract some attention. You know how omegas get about that protective instinct bullshit.”
I wrinkle my nose at the thought but don’t argue. Let them fuss if they want. I’m in too good a mood to care either way.
“Ten works,” I say, opening one eye to look at Wooil. “But I’m not staying out all night. I need to actually sleep at some point.”
“You can sleep when you’re dead.”
“At the rate I’m going, that’ll be sooner rather than later.”
Wooil raises his bottle in a mock toast. “Here’s to living fast and dying young, I guess.”
I grab my empty bottle and clink it against his. “I’ll drink to that.”
The bass is pounding through the floor when we arrive at the club. I follow Wooil and the guys through the crowd, weavingbetween bodies until we claim a booth near the back. It’s our usual spot, tucked away enough that we can actually hear each other talk but still close enough to the dance floor to watch the chaos unfold.
I’m actually in a good mood for once, which seems to throw everyone off. Usually when they drag me to these places I spend half the night scowling at my drink and the other half dodging omegas. But tonight I’m loose, relaxed, the lingering satisfaction from last night still humming pleasantly under my skin.
