I chuckle and stroke his chin, the slight rasp of new stubble faint under my fingertips, my cock stirring. "For you? Always."
He grins and leans back into the sofa, draining his soda. Zeke pats his knee and grabs his empty glass. "I'll go get us all one for the road, then we can head off." He stands and disappears into the murmuring masses in the direction of the bar, his curly chestnut brown hair bobbing above the crowd.
There's a waft of something fresh and sweet from somewhere in the direction of my drink. I take a sip and sniff at my glass again. I can't remember ever smelling anything quite this enticing.
"Fuck. What the hell did you order, Seb? The nose on that gin isincredible."
He shrugs, his brow furrowed slightly. "Just the house gin. Pass it over?"
I pass him my half-empty glass. He sniffs it, and tilts his head. "Just smells like normal gin to me—"
His voice fades out. The fragrance is growing stronger. I don't know where it's come from, but whatever it is, it has grabbed my hindbrain and set my alpha on high alert.
That's… weird.
I stand, scowling around the room. I feel Clarke's hand on mine. His voice echoes through my head, but I have no idea what he's saying. My focus is pulled to that scent, wherever it's coming from. It's fresh and sweet and bright and clean, and it's grabbed me by the central nervous system and made something inside me never want to come up for air again.
The light is too dim to see much, but I catch a glimpse of the back of Zeke's head from over by the bar. He steps away and turns towards us into a pool of low light, with the expression of a cat that found the cream plastered smugly all over his face. As he steps aside, the fragrance grows stronger. He is leading a woman towards us. Light brown hair falls down past her shoulders in gentle waves. My alpha isclamoringinside me—it wants me to focus on the curve of her hip, the gentle swell of her creamy breasts that peek out from the top of her white halter dress, but it's the wry, amused look in her eyes, and the quirk of her mouth that my brain has latched onto. I don't think I will be able to focus on anything else. Apart from that incredible scent.
My mouth is dry. I swallow, my tongue sitting thickly in my mouth.
"Guys?" Zeke appears in front of us, the woman in tow. He seems breathless. "I met someone. At—at the bar. I thought she might want to meet you." Even in the dim light, I can see his pupils have dilated so widely that his brown irises have almost completely disappeared.
The woman's cheeks turn pink as our gazes all turn towards her. The scent in the air thickens. Freesias, that's it.That's what the incredible smell is. Freesias with a note beneath that can only be Omega, judging by the way the scent has pulled my alpha's attention.
"Hi. Uh, I'm Dellie. Sorry for interrupting your boys' night." She smiles, her soft cheeks reddening further. Her voice is quiet, her wry amusement evaporating under our collective gaze. Zeke stands behind her, more protectively than I've ever seen him, letting his nose drift over her hair. His eyes close, and his gentle, calming lavender scent mingles with the freesia that has burrowed into my chest.
Sebastian shifts aside and pats the empty space next to him. "Sebastian. Seb," he rumbles, his eyes soft. I rarely get the treat of seeing his alpha emerge from behind his boyish charm, but clearly, this woman brings out something special in him. "Nothing to apologise for, Dellie. Why don't you join us?" His Aussie twang is thick tonight, his excitement palpable.
She nods and sips her soda. "And do the rest of you have names?"
James grins and leans forward. "I'm James. And this is Allen," he says, pointing at me. "You met Zeke already. And this," he says, nudging his foot towards Clarke, "is—"
"Ralph," Clarke interjects, huskily. She looks at him, a slightly confused quirk pulling at her eyebrow, but her smile never falters. I frown slightly. He normally holds that name tight to his chest; a precious secret only shared with those he trusts. I feel a tug of arousal and desire in the bond that had been sitting back, oddly quiet in my chest until now.
This woman's fragrance has clearly ensnared our beta. Or maybe he's just feeling us through the bond. Or perhaps both.
Her smile warms as she nods mutely. She sits almost primly next to Sebastian. "Sorry," she blurts out, "I don't get to meet new people on my own very often, and I'm a bit crap at it."
Clarke grins. "Hey, don't stress, sweetheart. You don't have to be anyone other than you. Tell you what, why don't you share with us what brought you all the way from where that glorious accent of yours comes from, and what keeps you out of practice at chatting up alphas in speakeasy jazz bars?"
She bursts out in melodious laughter. "Oh! Um, yeah. The accent. I grew up in Perth. Um, that's in the part of Australia that nobody really goes to. But moved over here to help out a mate. Sorry! I mean a friend.Justa friend." She clears her throat. "She needed a PA, and I needed a reason to get out of there. Sorry. Rambled a bit there." She grins, a little sheepishly.
Clarke's face puckers. "Please don't apologise. You… you don't need perfect words to be worth hearing."
Pride in my beta swells in my chest. Something flashes across Dellie's face, but too quickly for me to tell exactly what. She looks away, pink flushing through her features.
Sebastian nods, his sun-streaked curls flopping over his forehead, and clears his throat. "And, uh, what does being a PA entail?"
She shrugs, looking down at her drink. "Uh, I guess just… helping her. Making sure her schedule is under control. Making sure she gets what she needs. Keeping away the stuff she doesn't. Whatever she needs."
"Hmm. So you spend your days looking after her, then?" asks Zeke.
She smiles. "Basically."
I raise an eyebrow. "And who's looking after you?" Her smile falters slightly. She shrugs, her lips pinching. James kicks me.
There's a rattling slurp as she sucks up the last of her soda. A bead of sweat is trickling down the front of her chest. It blooms gently on the seam of her white dress between thoseperfect breasts. I swallow, and cross my legs, feeling my erection tug at the front of my pants.
