Page 70 of The Sterling Acquisition
He’s fighting it. But he’s losing. They always lose.
The first security vehicle rumbled past their hiding spot, its searchlight cutting through the shadows. Orion held his breath, counting heartbeats, trying to ignore the way his body was responding to Dante’s proximity. This was what his heats were like—every nerve ending screaming for contact, for the kind of attention that would make the biological chaos stop. He learned to manage it, to work around it, but it never got easier.
The second vehicle was closer, its engine sound overlapping with the sound of Orion’s own blood rushing in his ears. He could feel slick gathering uncomfortably, and Dante’s lips looked delightfully kissable–
Control it. You’re not helpless. You’ve done this before.
But control was becoming increasingly difficult when Dante’s hands were suddenly on his hips, pressing him more firmly against the wall. When the Alpha’s scent was flooding the small space with promises of what Orion’s body was craving.
“D-don’t,” Orion whispered.
“Your scent,” Dante muttered. “It’s—”
“I know what it is.” Orion’s hands came up to press against Dante’s chest, ostensibly to push him away. Instead, his fingers curled into the bloodstained fabric of his shirt. “F-fight it.”
“I’m trying.”
The third security vehicle was outside their hiding spot, its searchlight sweeping back and forth across the alley entrance. Orion could hear voices—guards coordinating their search pattern, reporting in to their supervisors.
They’re taking too long. They’re going to find us.
And then Dante’s mouth was on his throat, his hot tongue licking a strip up from his collar to his ear. The contact sent electricity shootingthrough Orion’s nervous system, his body arching against the Alpha’s solid frame.
No. Not here. Not now.
But his hands tightened in Dante’s shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. When Dante’s teeth scraped against his throat, he had to bite his lip to keep from making a sound that would give them away as he felt an embarrassing amount of slick soaking through his pants.
“D-Dante,” he managed, his voice a whisper. “We need to—”
Dante’s hand slid down, cupping his hard cock through his clothes. The touch was overwhelming, but brief—just enough pressure to make Orion’s hips jerk.
Stop. Think. You’re in the middle of a goddamn manhunt.
The security vehicles were moving away, their engine sounds fading into the distance. But Dante didn’t move, nibbling at his earlobe instead as he gripped Orion’s cock through his clothes.
“We should go,” Orion said, but made no move to pull away from the wall.
“We should,” Dante agreed, his thumb brushing over Orion’s bottom lip. “In a moment.”
A moment. Because you have time for this.
The touch was maddening—not enough to provide relief, just enough to make the heat-driven need worse. Dante’s other hand was still on his hip, holding him against the wall, and Orion could feel the Alpha’s control fraying at the edges.
“The vehicles are gone,” Orion pointed out.
“I know.” Dante’s mouth found the spot just below his ear, and Orion had to bite back a sound that would have been embarrassing. “You’re still shaking.”
It was true. His body was trembling with the combination of fear, arousal, and the chaos of his heat. The contact made everything worse instead of better, leaving him more desperate than satisfied.
“We n-need to move,” Orion said, finding the strength to push against Dante’s chest. “Before they circle back.”
Dante stepped back reluctantly, his hungry eyes fixed on Orion’s flushed face. “You’re right. But this isn’t over.”
No. It’s not. And that’s the problem.
They emerged from the narrow hiding space into the broader street, taking a moment to regain their bearings. The industrial district sprawled before them—a maze of concrete and steel, massive factory buildings exhaling steam that mingled with the morning fog. The rhythmic clank of automated machinery provided cover for their movement, oil and metal scents competing with the pheromonal chaos Orion was producing.
The eastern service corridors would be safest, but even those would be patrolled during lockdown. The northwestern route offered more cover but added two blocks. The southern path was quickest, but exposed them to multiple checkpoints.
