Page 54 of Unbonded
I wave a hand at her concerns and draw her into the room. “This is where I want to be. I don’t need a fancy bed.” She bites her lip, and I chuckle as I slide my hands around her waist. “You’ve already picked one out from the catalog, haven’t you?”
She screws up her nose, squinting adorably. “Have youseenthe House of Omega nesting range? Those beds areepic.”
We laugh, and I can’t resist licking the sweet sound from her mouth. I never thought emotions were contagious, but thelonger I’m around Kate, the more I realize I have zero immunity to catching whatever feelings she projects my way.
“Okay, then if this is Heat Central, how about we make use of the facilities?” Kate gives me a tug towards the bathroom. “How does a long soak and a back rub sound?”
“Heavenly, especially if my masseuse lets me return the favor.”
She gives me a promising wink, and we get busy setting up the bathroom exactly how we like it. That involves activating the underfloor heating, lighting the candles in the alcove above the tub, and picking through the extensive range of bath products. Most omegas I know can list their favorite bath rituals the way baseball fans can recite World Series stats, and that definitely holds true for us. Kate knows a lot about the products from a design perspective, while I specialize in their therapeutic properties. She chooses a scented foam that smells like a cozy hug, while I add an oil blend that is great for relaxing muscles and releasing tension.
“Jets or no jets?” she asks as I sink into the steaming water, since the extravagant tub has a spa function.
“Fire me up, Omega,” I smirk, giving a happy groan as the jets cover me in a blanket of lavender, sweet orange, and chamomile bubbles.
While I lie back against the bath pillow, Kate grabs a comb and gently brushes out my hair. It’s been a long time since anyone did this for me, and I shiver with bliss, letting myself sink into the sensation. The build-up to my heat usually involves grabbing my go-bag and fighting traffic to get to the clinic. There’s a lot of boring check-in procedures, and then I’m in some sterile, faceless room trying to decide if I want to get straight down to business with a dildo or wait until one of the heat attendants show up. The first couple of times there was a taboo little thrill at getting fucked by a stranger, but recentlyI’ve tried to make do with just the sex toys and a helping hand. Unsatisfying and forgettable, but better than staring into a pair of vacant eyes as I lose myself to the haze.
Not that I would think badly of Kate if she’d gone ahead and auctioned off her heat at Safe Haven. My preference has always been to avoid unwanted complications, while she has had those complications forced on her, thanks to her asshole ex. It’s obvious she has a deep romantic streak, and if the situation was different, she’d be counting the days to her heat, instead of fearing it.
Just thinking about how confused and stressed she must be makes my blood pound in my veins. She deserves to be the centerpiece of an adoring pack, not some afterthought or companion clause.
I sit up suddenly, causing a fragrant wave to slosh over the side. “Kate, I won’t bond with them if you don’t want me to.”
The plink of the comb hitting the tile is her only response until her hands land gently on my shoulders. “That shouldn’t be my decision, Dash.”
The careful note in her voice makes my stomach pinch. Unfortunately, my needy omega won’t let me take the cautious approach, and I twist around to meet her hesitant gaze. “Did you really mean it about being packmates? Bites, bonds, the works?”
She doesn’t hesitate this time. “Yes. I won’t ever lie to you about something like that.”
Because she’s learned the hard way that with deception comes heartbreak. Not that I will ever hurt her.I’d sooner break an ankle than break her heart.
I pause, shocked that I mean it in a literal way. My body is my career, my purpose, my identity - but I’d sacrifice it without a second thought if it kept her from harm’s way.
Huh.When exactly did my famous pragmatic backbone melt into a pile of goo?
Kate must be able to sense my epiphany, because she presses her cool palm to my temple. I lean into the touch, my lashes fluttering at the contact. “Tell me what you want, Dash.”
“You. Them. A pack, I guess. But I need to know it’s real, and forever, and that I’ll never be forgotten or ignored.” The words spill out of me, small and weak, like a sad little echo of my childhood years. “I couldn’t cope with being another mistake, Kate.”
My cheeks burn with shame that I’ve spewed it all out – the trauma I hide behind mindless flings and perfect performances. But Kate smiles at me like I’ve given her some kind of gift and rises to her feet. She strips off her fuzzy sweater and girlboss trousers, then climbs into the tub and crawls between my knees. Bubbles cling to her silky underwear, and my mouth waters at the sight of her nipples poking through the fabric. But I’m just as captivated by the look on her face as she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Nothing about you is a mistake, Dash Devereux, and I can promise I will never forget you or ignore you.” She takes my hand and presses it to her chest. “In fact, you take up most of the available space in my heart.”
I look at her shyly through my lashes. “Me and Lachlan?”
“Mmm. Plus Coco Chanel and Häagen-Dazs.”
I smirk, since her ice cream obsession is almost as intense as her love for fashion icons. “Wow, that’s a pretty special group to be in.”
She cocks a teasing brow at me. “Unlike you, I have very fancy taste.”
I pull her against me, and she fits perfectly in my lap, those delicious thighs cupping my hips just the way I like them. I kiss my way across her collarbone, then up to her scent gland, rolling my special brand of candy under my tongue. Her head drops back, her arms propped on my shoulders, and I lose myself in her sighs as my heat swirls under my skin. My blood feelsthicker, my muscles clenching in hungry little spasms as she rocks against my erection. I’m still a long way from the height of my haze, but my body is responding to all the stimuli around it, and I have to fist my hands to stop myself from ripping off her underwear and thrusting up into her.
“It’s okay,” she whispers in my ear, her lips skimming my jaw. “I’m here for you. Use me, Dash.”
Ugh. I’m a dancer, not a beast. So why does that appeal to me so much?
If I’m leaning into this honesty kick – and what better time is there when my heat is about to tear me wide open? – I don’t just want to love and cherish Kate. I want toconsumeher. Eat her up and drink her down. Not an inch of distance between us until we’re sharing our oxygen and grinding matching patterns into our skin.
“I want my nest,” I purr in her shell ear, but when she goes to rise off me, I hold her still. “Not that one. I want insidehere.”
