“No joke.” I instinctively flex my fingers again, trying to get my blood pumping through my joints. “I’d kill to feel the sun right now,” I say.
“You know,” His voice drops, more serious now. “They have a beta-only beach.” His brows lift as he reaches for his soda again. He shakes it once out of habit, then frowns when he realizes it’s empty. “You should come with me.” His smile quickly returns. “Have you ever been snorkeling?"
I freeze for half a second, staring at the beta, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m not big on snorkeling, but it does sound really nice.” My voice pitches a little too high. “I bet you’ll have so much fun.”
"I think you'd love it," Milo says, completely missing my deflection. "There will be no alpha scent drops or fluorescent lights. Just lots of sun and overpriced drinks."
I draw in a careful breath, trying to pick my next words carefully, but thankfully I’m saved from having to turn him down.
The heavy click of the outer lock cuts through the room, and we both turn back to our work. I grab the next vial as the door swings open and Anton steps inside. The alpha is carrying a stack of white cardboard boxes braced against his chest.
"Got a few more for you to check," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that makes my nipples perk.
"Damn." Milo eyes the new boxes, then the two left on our table. "We were almost done."
“Sorry,” Anton says, setting the boxes down on the stainless steel table in front of Milo. “They just came in.”
Anton gives me an apologetic smile right as his scent barrels into me. My body responds before my brain can catch up. A slow heat blooms across my sternum, and my abs clench tight.
Hold it together.
The urge to tilt my head and expose the fragile line of my throat to him is intense. I fight it with everything I have, digging my fingernails into my palm to distract myself. But it’s useless.
My body is on fire.
My mouth waters at the sight of the alpha as my gaze drops, tracing the bulge along the front of Anton’s pants. My eyes widen as I imagine what lies beneath.
How big is he?
Long? Curved? Veiny?
The intrusive thought is wildly embarrassing, but I can’t help myself. I picture the alpha’s thick, heavy knot—the kind I’ve only seen in pictures—popping so deep inside me it hurts.
Would he pull my hair?
Fuck me on all fours?
Make me beg?
The thought makes me hum, a low, involuntary sound that vibrates in my throat.
Both Milo and Anton go quiet. Then they both turn and look at me. Heat floods my face, scorching hot as I jerk my gaze up, mortified.
"You say something, Elle?" Milo asks.
I shake my head frantically, forcing a smile that I’m sure looks tight. "No. Just...hungry."
"I know it’s getting late," Anton says, looking right at me. I want to look away, but I can’t. My body won’t allow me. "But I really need you to process these tonight."
“Of course," I say. "I completely understand.” My voice comes out steady, which feels like a small miracle.
Milo reaches for the top box, and my eyes catch the corner of a shipping label on the side. My heart kicks up and I try like crazy to keep my face under control.
I can’t believe it.
There's never a label on the boxes that come in.
Every shipment we’ve processed in six months has come in unmarked boxes with lot numbers scrawled in marker and nothing else. But this one has a proper shipping label, slightly torn at the edges, with the partial name of a pharmacy printed across the top.
