Page 30 of Heat Lightning

My omega yowled, clawing at me to say yes.

Something base and primal flashed in his eyes, like he heard the call and needed to answer. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, but it wasn’t entirely a fear response.

He hooked an arm around my waist—When did we get so close?—and dropped his covered nose to the scent gland at my neck.

“Are you sure about that?” he whispered, nuzzling his way up to my ear. “Because your scent says something very different, sweetheart. You smell…” He inhaled. “Quite able to have a heat to me.”

I gasped, turning into a puddle of goo at his feet. The condescending nickname melted into something syrupy and sticky-sweet when he said it like that.

My fingers bunched in the folds of his sweatshirt, the hand holding the knife limp at my side. I peered up at him, focus darting between his bright blue eyes.

Say yes, say yes, say yes!

“I—”

A loud knock at my door cut through the moment.

Like a flipped switch, gone was the restrained, almost soft man from the last fifteen minutes. His eyes flicked to the door, and before I knew it, my back was once again pressed to his front with his palm covering my mouth.

“Did you call anyone?” he hissed in my ear.

I shivered, aware of every place our bodies touched. Briefly, I pictured him taking me like this, too. Rough and wild, with his arms wrapped around me to hold me up while he fucked into me from behind.

Dark want shivered in my belly when the hand covering my mouth fell to my soft middle.

“N-no. You took my phone.”

The knocking came again. “Max? Are you home?”

Mr. Marino?

The Masked Man’s shoulders stiffened.

“Shit!” I whispered. “That’s my boss. Please, don’t hurt him. Just leave, and he won’t find you here.”

I wasn’t sure what Mr. Marino would do. He’d always said I was welcome to have guests, but I was pretty certain that didn’t extend to the masked vigilante variety.

Plus, he’d definitely call the cops and create a whole host of issues.

“Does he regularly come over this late?” the Masked Man asked, clearly irritated by the interruption.

And again, what right did he have to be upset? He’d infiltrated our lives.

“No,” I answered, twisting just enough to look at him. “Which means you might not have been as subtle as you think you were climbing in here, Jason Bourne. You need to leave.”

He released me with a soft curse. The knife handle was slick in my sweaty palm, but holding it made me feel better, even if it was just an illusion.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispered. “I’ll⁠—”

“Max?” Mr. Marino called again. “Is everything alright?”

“Max!” a smaller voice echoed. “Daddy said we need to check your house for strangers.”

“Oh, no.” A pit formed in my stomach. Absolutely not. “Get out. Now. You’ll scare Enzo.”

He had the audacity to look affronted. “I would never hurt a child.”

“Then you’ll have no problem with leaving,” I said, pushing on his chest to herd him backwards down the hall and away from the door.