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Since when did Jin grin so filthy?
Shit.
Since always.
Bloodthirsty Jin, licking his teeth in the ring. Ripping through fighters who thought they stood a chance.
Meadows Jin is nothing like the buttoned-up Su-Jin Moon who had to march on his father’s orders, keeping his fire banked.
His bloodlust is my catnip.
His regular lust?
Holeeeeeeshiiit.
“When’s our flight?” I ask faintly.
Jin releases his foot, freeing his lock on my chair. “Bish needs a photo for your fake passport.”
I drag in a breath of cold, fresh air. “Where is he? I’ll go to him.”
“He’d like that.” Jin opens the junk drawer, but it’s Bishop’s kitchen, so the pencils sit in neat trays, organized by lead thickness. Jin grabs a plastic card and presses it into my palm. “Spare key. Sixth floor office suite. Take the private elevator.”
He opens the secret door I thought led to a pantry. Before I can escape, Jin forces the sandwich plate into my hands. “Please eat more than two bites. I don’t want to have to feed you by hand. Unless you ask me for it.”
I blink.
Jin licks his teeth.
We both know what he just said.
After the door shuts, I sway, going nowhere.
Because elevators. You have to hit a button.
I punch six with the lip of my plate.
As of this morning, I would’ve said Dutch was the hardest alpha to handle.
Wrong.
They’re all a problem.
I take another bite of Jin’s sandwich as the elevator pings. Thick perfume almost has me spitting it back on the plate.
Omega.
Mint and chocolate, but it’s not the luscious, buttery kind, like Reese’s rich flavor.
This chocolate tastes like a cold, fussy truffle that costs a million dollars and cracks your front teeth.
The source sits at the desk in the center of the businessy office suite. An ice-cream omega in stilettos, showing off a tight body in a V-cut, white jumpsuit.
“You are…?” Her once-over takes in my sandwich, rag-bag alpha layers, and the hit of vodka lemon I crank out just for her.
It all screams mate so loudly, I don’t bother introducing myself. “I need to see Bishop.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
