Page 97 of One for the Money
He nods slowly, navy blue eyes unblinking as he stares at my face. He, like his brother, who is currently running his fingers up my bare calf, whimpering, is handsome in the way that stops your breath. That makes your heart stutter.
“I know you don’t like Omegas,” I say quietly. “And there is no pressure for you to do this. We don’t know each other well, but I think you know me enough now to realize this isn’t something I would offer lightly. Because it was my pheromones that sent them into this rut, mine are the best chance of pulling them out. We could try to let them fuck each other, let them beat each other up, but you and Matteo could get caught in that crossfire, and I can’t havethat on my conscience, not when I have the ability to stop this.”
He runs his hand through his hair, and exhaustion weighs down his shoulders. “I don’t like Omegas,” he says quietly. “But I don’t mind you all that much.”
It’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ve ever gotten from Dexter, and I have to bury the Omega need to fawn over it.
Matteo is standing off to the side, watching the conversation. At the same time, the other three Alphas are frozen in place from the combination of my command and the relaxing pheromones I’m trying to express for them.
I’ve never felt as much like an Omega as I do right now.
“Can I…” Dexter inhales deeply and moves a little closer to me. He holds a hand out, hovering it near me. “Could I touch you first?”
A shy smile creeps up my face, and my cheeks flush red. I nod, unable to form words in the face of his vulnerability.
When his warm palm makes contact with my cheek, a purr escapes me, and I nuzzle into it.
“I’ve touched you before,” he says softly. “When you were sick. I held you while you were passed out, did you know that? But this feels different.” His thumb gently brushes across my skin, touching the corner of my lips. “I’m fucked up, you know that, right?”
My tongue darts out and touches his thumb. He shivers at the contact. “I am, too, Dexter. It can be just sex. I think right now, that’s all both of us can handle. I’m not asking for you to accept my bite.”
“Good, because I won’t,” he says, but the emotion in his voice tells a different story.
Maybe he isn’t as against me as his initial reaction would suggest.
Not that it can matter to me, because I’m not sticking around. I can’t.
Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll be able to ignore the sinking feeling that I won’t be able to escape these men.
Before I can come up with something else to say, Dexter’s lips are on mine. They’re plush and soft, tentative and fearful in an unexpected way. The moment his tongue takes advantage of my little gasping breaths, the other Alphas growl low in their throats.
It’s a sound designed by evolution to cause slick to pool in my panties and my pheromones to cloud the air.
Dexter pulls away, gasping, forehead resting on mine. “I…” he stutters, eyes hazy with arousal. “You taste so good.”
His tart caramel apple scent invades my senses, and I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat. He bears it to me, but I know it’s just a reflex. “Right back at ya.”
A startled yelp has our heads whipping around to see Quinton on top of Matteo, the Beta’s shorts around his ankles, the Alpha licking his cock slowly, methodically. Quinton groans, his hips thrusting into the carpet as he tastes his partner.
“Omega,” Quinton purrs, making eye contact with me. “He still tastes like you.”
I whimper, unable to smother the noise. Dexter grabs the front of my t-shirt and pulls me back to his mouth, claiming me without words and demanding my attention return to him.
He lowers me down onto the floor, and from the corner of my eye, I see Dario watching with rapt attention, hishand in his shorts. Jude looms behind him, his face in a feral snarl as he stares me down.
But I can’t pay attention to the other Alphas when Dexter’s hands are pushing my shirt off, revealing my breasts to the thick air of the trailer. He hesitantly, tentatively, begins to kiss down my neck and chest, as if he’s unsure what to do. When his tongue flicks across my nipple and I yelp, he sits up quickly, pulling his hands off of me and holding them up in surrender.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly.
That’s when I notice the fear in his eyes. But it’s not fear of me.
“Dexter,” I whisper, sitting up and moving close enough that the words are just for us. “Have you ever been with anyone before?”
He shakes his head. “No,” he answers, just as quietly as I spoke. “I’ve never had the desire to before.”
“And you want to now?” I can’t help but look at the crotch of his basketball shorts, which shows his obvious arousal. But that could be a physical reaction to my pheromones. It doesn’t mean he actually wants me, wants this.
For what may be the first time, I watch as Dexter blushes. It colors his pale brown skin pink and is so charming that I want to kiss across his cheeks and nose. “I do.”
