Page 40 of Her Knotty Alphas

But, I shove those instincts deep down where I can't feel them anymore. She doesn't need to think we're looking down on her or her living situation. "I would love to come in, and I realize that you're not inviting me into the nest section of your apartment." I give her an easy smile, which really throws me, because when have I ever given anyone an easy smile?

Less than two minutes in this woman's presence and she's already soothing my jagged edges.

She bites her lip, nodding, and steps back into her apartment. I'm immediately encompassed in her scent, and it's a wonder that Enzo was able to control himself. It's taking everything in me to not bend her over the nearest surface and sink into her hot, wet heat.

The room reflects her personality perfectly. It's easy to tell, even if we just met for the first time. Everything is pink, and either sparkly or fuzzy. Hell, I see a pink, fuzzy pillow with sparkly threading. Her little fairy lights light up the nesting area, which is in the back corner, and in front of us is a small couch and tv against the wall adjacent to the front door. The couch is lavender, with a well-loved blanket draping over the back. The small kitchenette in the corner is pretty homey looking.

Everything, from the blankets in the nest, to the couch cushions, to the damn tv remote, is saturated in her scent.

"Sorry," she stammers, noticing my sharp inhale. "Living in one room doesn't really allow my scent to…disperse."

Her words shake me out of my daze. "Princess." I look at her incredulously. "Did you really just apologize for your own scent,in your own apartment? Which, by the way, smells amazing. But I'm the one who stopped by unannounced, and it's yourhome. It's going to smell like you."

"You don't mind?" She asks hesitantly, and this time I don't temper the urge to pull it out with my thumb. Moving my thumb under her chin, I tilt her head up to look at me.

She meets my eyes with flushed cheeks, blown pupils, and her breath hitches when I lean in close.

So damn responsive.

"Hannah," my voice is serious as I look into her eyes, "your scent is the godsdamn best thing I've ever scented in my life. If I went through the rest of my life smelling nothing but sweet, juicy peaches and warm, intoxicating brown sugar, I'd die a happy man. You never have to apologize for your scent on things. If I have it my way, your smell, your taste, youressence,will be covering me, every morning, every afternoon, and every evening."

Her scent grows even stronger, and she lets out a little sigh as she scents my growing arousal. I need to pull back before I do something I'll get my ass kicked for. Like kiss and fuck her five minutes after meeting her.

But she needs to know. She needs to know that they aren't staying away because it's what they want. She needs to know how much we all desire her.

Crave her.

Needher.

I can see the moment her omega preens under my attention, when her cheeks redden even further but she gives me a shy little smile. I can't help but run my thumb over her bottom lip, murmuring, "Good girl," without thinking, and there's that fucking perfume again.

Groaning, I lean back, dropping my thumb. "Come on princess. I didn't come here to get both of us all hot and bothered."

She surprises me by laughing, breaking the tension of the moment. "I have a feeling that would have happened whether you came here for it or not."

A grin tugs at my lips as I walk to her kitchen and place my bag of snacks on the counter.

We pilfer through the snacks, settling on the couch and passing a packet of Oreos back and forth. We talk about anything and everything. I tell her about how I moved in with Austin's family when we were in middle school. How my parents cared more about their drugs than their own kid and eventually got busted for selling. Best thing to ever happen to me though. Mama Angie made me feel like I was a part of the family when I never had one before. Austin didn't let me retreat in on myself, always including me with his friends and defending the "city kid" from the country boy bullies of middle and high school. I was still a hard kid, but I don't think about what would have happened to me if I had been placed with one of those foster families that are only in it for a paycheck.

"Your family sounds wonderful," she says wistfully. "I was nine when I moved in with my step-sisters and…and well, they still don't like me." She frowns, looking pensive for a moment.

"Do you have any biological siblings?" I ask, already knowing the answer. Kieran Beckham, age thirty one. Construction worker. Packless, but not for a lack of effort. Seems like the trait runs in the family.

"I do. Kieran. He's the best. I had Nana too, though she wasn't really my grandmother…"

She tells me about her Nana, who, while not biologically related to her, was her grandmother in every sense of the word.How she left her everything and now her step-sisters, who never gave two shits about Sylvie Pearson, are suing her to get it back.

"It's not even about the money, you know?" She sighs and leans into me. My breath catches in my throat and I hold it, afraid she'll realize what she's doing and straighten up if I make any sudden movements. "It was her last fucking wish. I don't even care if I'm the one on the receiving end of the money at this point, I just don't wantthemto have it."

"You could always let them win, and then their bank accounts could mysteriously drain into an untraceable, off-shore account, free to do with as you please."

She leans back and looks at me as if she can't quite believe what I just said. "That can't be legal," she says on a shocked laugh.

"I tend to stay in that gray area." I tell her truthfully. "Sometimes, the law sucks, and a little justice is required. Sometimes, the law has too much red tape, and they need a little help getting evidence. Sometimes, people piss me off and find their financials were suddenly donated to a children's shelter or somewhere equally important."

"Do you ever use your powers for evil?" She teases, leaning in and giving me a smile that makes my cold, dead, heart melt right out of my chest.

"Not evil," I say lightly, "but I've definitely used them for self-serving interests. Looking you up, for instance. When Austin came home from the bar all those months ago with a dazed look on his face, I had to know who put it there."

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