Page 133 of Rejected and Pregnant By the Alpha King

My poor pan is black by the time I finally get my hands on it, pull it out of the oven, and set it down on the stovetop. The crust—or what’s left of it—is completely charred, the pattern I’d painstakingly cut out with a butter knife practically unrecognizable.

“Shit,” I mutter to myself, tossing the towel down onto the counter next to it.

That’s what I get for trying to be some kind of housewife and making Nyx something for when he gets home. The entire time I’d been cutting out pieces of the crust to lay over the pie,my stomach was filled with butterflies, nervous for his reaction when he finally arrived home.

Maybe this is a sign from the universe that I’m doing too much—pushing this too quickly toward the “relationship” side before we can even have a talk about whatever the hell this thing between usis.

I don’t want to seem too eager. Yet here I am trying to make him a damn pie fromscratch.

“Oh,” a familiar voice says from the kitchen doorway.

Fuck.

Whirling around, I spot Nyx through the haze. He pauses right at the entrance to the kitchen, his arm waving away the smoke.

“Quite the project,” he says, slowly walking over to me.

“I’m sorry,” I say hastily. “I did open a window.”

He chuckles.

When he reaches me, the hand he was using to wave away the smoke snakes behind my hair to cup the nape of my neck. His hand is warm against my bare skin, fingers trailing up slowly through the back of my hair to settle against my scalp.

“Food, I presume?”

A pleasant shiver rolls up my spine when he curls his fingers gently a few times. “Um, itwassupposed to be an apple pie.”

His smirk widens. “A pie, hm…”

Goddamn, why does he have to touch me like this when I’m trying to be level-headed and not act like a schoolgirl with a crush? Forcing myself not to lean into him and his touch is driving me crazy.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks.

Ugh, I’ve been dreading him asking me that.

One, because I don’t have an answer that won’t make me look stupid. And two, I don’t want to scare him off by trying to move too fast. Neither of us planned on any of this happening, let alone for our chemistry to be practically electric.

I’d be stupid to deny myself the happiness of being with someone like Nyx, who seems to not be afraid of all of the baggage I’ve brought with me. In fact, he’s embraced it more than I have, and that’s saying something.

“Does there have to be one?” I counter.

He looks down at me, a brow raised. “Considering you should be resting, yes.”

I shove him with my elbow. “I’m not a porcelain doll.”

Unexpectedly, his hand on my neck tightens just enough to keep me still while he pulls me close to press a hard kiss against my mouth. My body gives in, leaning against him completely while we kiss.

I can’t help it. I always crave more of him. He’s like a damn drug.

His mouth moves slowly against mine, taking the time to taste me while he explores beyond my lips and tangles his tonguewith mine. I’ve never been kissed like this before, not even with Aiden.

Aiden and I were feverish in our coupling—coming together like we’d been starved of water in an endless desert for years on end.

Nyx is a cool, fresh spring that you happen upon during a long hike, a welcome surprise to dip yourself in to wash the sweat of a hard workout off of your body.

Both of them are so different from each other that I should stop comparing them altogether. Though no matter what I do, my mind does it anyway.

I like being with Nyx. I likethis. I like him.

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