Page 39 of Enticing Little Omega

Liar.

I looked at her, and she finally turned her head toward me. Her smile was soft but cheeky. That dangerous kind of pretty. Like a flame you knew would burn you, and you still leaned closer.

"You keep teasing me like that," I drawled, "and I'll show you exactly what it means when you call someone Daddy."

Her breath hitched. Just a little. But she didn't look away.

Oh, she was going to be my good, good girl.

I moved before I thought better of it, reaching out and wrapping my arm around her waist. She let out a delighted squeal as I pulled her into my lap, one hand splayed across her lower back, the other tangling gently in the hair at the nape of her neck.

"You like teasing your Alphas, little girl?" I asked against her ear.

She squirmed in my arms, breathless. "Maybe?"

"She definitely does," Drew said, far too entertained. "But I gotta say, it's nice seeing you flustered for once."

I'm not fucking flustered. I scowled at him even as Christa giggled and buried her face in my neck.

"I like knowing I can fluster you, Daddy," she teased, her lips brushing my skin.

I growled. "I'm not fucking flustered."

She giggled again, and the beautiful sound of her laughter made it worth all the teasing.

This time when I growled again it was a soft warning instead. And then I kissed her.

Not soft.

Not tentative.

I kissed her like I'd been starving for it, like I had dreamed of this exact moment every night since we met her and lost her.

She gasped into it, hands gripping the front of my shirt, and then she melted, her body pressing fully into mine. Her perfume filled the air around us, her scent tantalizing and tempting in a way I found impossible to describe.

Sweet little Omega.

Mine.

When I finally pulled back, she blinked up at me, dazed and pink and perfect. I ran my thumb over her cheekbone, savoring the way she leaned into the touch.

"Such a good girl for your Daddy," I breathed.

Her whole body shivered.

Beside us, Drew coughed dramatically. "Okay, okay. I get it. I'll just sit here. Third wheeling. Burning the marshmallows."

Christa giggled again, and turned, reaching for the roasting sticks. "No, no. We're making smores. Come on Daddy Grump. You gotta help a girl out."

Drew snorted. "That name is never going away."

I frowned at him while helping her thread the marshmallows. Drew prepared the chocolate and graham crackers with exaggerated flair as Christa leaned into me, her warmth sinking into my chest like sunlight, and I let myself relax.

Just a little.

For just a moment, I let myself enjoy this with our Omega.

The fire crackled. The scent of sugar and smoke drifted through the air. Christa's fingers were sticky, her laughter easy, and Drew—dammit—made her laugh louder than I ever could.

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