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It’s enough imagining their faces.
Bish’s lowered lids and bared teeth. The delicious twists of Dutch’s lips, reflecting every sensation he feels.
My body warms, but the heat comes from layers of alpha-scented sweats, not the Heat with the capital H.
I lean against the wall to cool down.
File that reel away for later.
I’m still staring into space when the elevator lifts. Up a single floor, the door slides open.
Reese.
His fingers twitch, feet and shoulders shifting with killing intent.
My body responds, pheromones surging. But Reese flips his switch just as quickly, realizing I’m not his enemy.
Not yet.
“Sol?” His eyes and shoulders soften, but I already saw too deep.
Even forced to sit at the back of the SAS classroom, you pick up a few techniques.
Reese is a killer.
And I don’t shiver because I’m disappointed with his life choices.
His nose wrinkles. “That scent…”
“What scent?” Reeling in, I throw myself against the wall hard enough to shake the elevator cables.
“Bish and Dutch.” Reese rubs under his nose. “Did you walk in on them?”
“Oh.” Pricked tension leaves me oozing down the wall. “That.”
Stepping in, Reese jabs the sixth-floor button, and the doors shut us in together.
The elevator narrows with a second body inside.
It wouldn’t fit three.
Unless we tried real hard.
I can think of a few ways…
I shudder.
I’m so ruined.
“Did it bother you?” Reese asks.
“What?”
“Them being together?”
I snort. “Why would it?”
“Everyone says omegas get territorial. Maybe gammas do too?” His heavy breath ghosts me in cocoa. “We’d never do anything you didn’t want.”
