Page 5 of Going Down Smooth: Part One

Knight is as handsome as ever, his piercing eyes see straight through me, with thick luscious, kissable lips, a well-groomed beard, hiding his strong jaw and smooth creamy light brown skin. He hasn’t changed; older, maybe wiser, like a fine aged bourbon perhaps.

Mercy, pull it together woman! I internally scream at myself.

Not to say he’s old, only a year older than I am, but still, I didn’t expect a simple glance to wake up a part of me that has lain dormant for years. He offers me a nod in greeting, and for a moment I stare transfixed, unsure of what to do. Do I wave hi? Mouth hello? I have lost all means and know how when it comes to communicating right now. And that smell, it’s wrapping around me like a warm cozy blanket, and I want to burrow in it and—damn it.

I blink, my eyes still on the man in front of me as I suddenly remember the last thing he told me. How he commanded me to leave and never come back. The reminder of those words washes over me like a bucket of ice-cold water, jarring me into the present. The spell is broken. My response to his presence, their presence, caught me off guard. Of course they would be here. Finally, I offer Knight a nod in return as a guy I don’t know whispers something to him, causing him to face the other man.

I blow out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding under the weight of his gaze, as the man’s speech finally comes to an end. People immediately start to walk in my family’s direction, forming a long line around one side of the church as my mother falls apart in Christophers’ arms.

My chest constricts with the pain of loss; tears threaten to fall from my eyes as I sit in the back of the church. It isn’t cowardice, it’s self-preservation to stay in my spot. I should get up and go to them. I have no idea how welcomed by them I will be, but I want my mother to see my face, and my sisters as well. I notice my youngest sister, Grace, sitting behind my parents with her pack. She was only fourteen when I ran, and I missed so much of her life. Now she’s newly mated to a wonderful pack, or so I’ve heard, that love and cherish her. Even at a young age my sister was happy with her Omega status, being a mother, having children, and a pack that loved her was all she talked about.

I stand at the same time Knight makes his way down the aisle. My eyes widen at his muscular build, appreciating how the white button-down shirt with rolled sleeves strains against his bulk. Thick thighs like tree trunks poured into black slacks, and all I can do is stare. I think my vagina purred, or did the sound come from me? Holy Hell. His delicious caramel scent hits me so hard my knees go weak, forcing me to sit back down.

Grabbing the seat in front of me I lean forward between the gap in the seats, taking deep cleansing breaths. I clench my thighs together, forcing myself to focus on something other than wanting to run up the center aisle and tackle him to the ground. My face flushes as I pant, my head hangs loose as I search the floor, anything to distract myself for the sight of him. Is it suddenly hot in here?

My mind whirls with the possibility that Freeya might have been right. I should have stayed my ass at home. I’ve never experienced the full force of being in heat, but if this is just the beginning, I am royally screwed.

I look up and realize that Knight is long gone and stand again. I rush out of my row, keeping my eyes forward as the line in front of my family grows exponentially longer. People are mingling and talking softly amongst themselves, possibly talking about me, but I purposefully ignore it all, including the hard stares of Trey, Nate, and—

I collide with a hard wall of muscle, and an audible grunt escapes my lips. The scent of a crackling fire, smoke, and cedar engulfs me as I stumble away from him, losing my footing. My black heels betray me, making me appear clumsy as my arms reach out to grab something to stop me from falling.

“I got you, Little Mouse.” Lox catches my hand in his and I’m hit with what feels like a bolt of electricity, shooting straight through my arm and down to my core. I bite back a moan as he yanks me to my feet, his hands finding my waist to steady me, his grip tight. He leans in and takes a deep breath, rubbing his body against mine before he stands at his full height. Did he just scent mark me?

“Fuck,” he says softly, making me look into those whiskey-colored eyes. Lox towers over me, smooth brown skin, muscular build, slightly bigger than Knight, with a lazy smile on his face.

I mean, what are they drinking these days? Sexy-aid?

Lox is not his real name but the nickname I gave him years ago. He always hated his pretentious upbringing and the name that came with it. Lox came from a prestigious family, extremely wealthy. I’m talking triple barrel names rich. Like Maxim Julius-Seamus-Loxley III. One day the name came to me, and well, Lox just stuck. No one calls him Maxim anymore. Especially after he all but cut ties with his family.

Lox’s long locs are now piled on top of his head, the sides cut short to give the appearance of a mohawk. Tattoos cover his dark chocolate skin, from his neck disappearing down into his navy-blue button-down shirt, and I wonder then just how far down they actually go. He is bad-boy gorgeous; the kind of man every good God-fearing girl is warned about. Well, I definitely knew how to pick them back then, and despite everything, I missed him.

“Oh, Mouse, you smell sinful baby. You’re perfuming hard, M—"

“Mercy. Not Mouse, Mercy.”

I yank my hand from his and step out of his way. I don’t miss the expression of concern on his face before he quickly masks it with a knowing smile. He has clearly disarmed me, and he knows it. If he can smell me— Oh God, no! I look around panicked, catching a few people watching us with interest. I just need to make it through the will reading. . . That’s my new mantra until I can get as far away from this place and them.

Lox holds his hands up in surrender. “I promise I am following Knight. I had no intention of running into you, Mouse. If I am not mistaken, you ran into me. So, I’ll just let you be on your way. But you might want to stay down wind because you smell absolutely edible.”

He winks and shoves his hands in his jean pockets as he walks away, seemingly unaffected. I shit you not, my pussy flutters as if it has a mind of its own, calling out to him in some form of echo location as I watch him walk away from me.

“Mercy.” I snap my head around to see the extended arms of my sister and I practically run into them. Faith and I are similar in height, but where my hair is wild and naturally curly her dark brown tresses flow down her back in soft curls. My body has more curves, definitely more hips and ass, but my sister feels brittle in my arms; smaller, fragile, as if she could break. I pull away from our hug and gaze at her. She smiles but it isn’t easy, it looks forced and strained. Maybe I am reading too much into it. It is our father’s funeral after all.

“Faith, it is so good to see you,” I finally say, feeling guilty for not reaching out to my sisters as much as I should have. As I take in Faith and the diamond studded collar around her neck my blood begins to boil with rage. Just underneath it I can see her mate marks. They look more like her Alphas took chunks of flesh from her skin instead of bites. The sight makes my stomach churn. Were they always like this?

“Faith, are those your mate marks?” I ask as I step in close to her again. She offers me a smile and reaches up to brush her fingers against her collar almost apologetically.

“I knew you wouldn’t approve but it’s their way, you know.” She shrugs it off like it’s nothing, and I want to scream.

“Those aren’t marks, Faith, those are brutal fucking bites. You—”

“Faith. Come.” The asshole Alpha, I can’t even recall his name, moves up behind my sister and places his arm over her possessively.

“Yes. Derrick. I was just speaking to my sister—”

Derrick grabs the back of my sister’s neck, and by the grimace on her face I know that it was meant to hurt her. He leans down, I assume he doesn’t want to make a scene and whispers into her ear. “I didn’t ask what you were doing, Faith. I see Mercy, and I think you spoke enough.”

Derrick’s words are like a slap in the face. My sister frowns. I can tell she is embarrassed by the way he speaks to her in front of me, but she remains quiet.

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