Page 105 of Their Knotty Pack
A fact I was rather surprised about, given the fact that Miles' parents only went back to Colorado yesterday, and our quality bonding time has been lacking the last few days.
"Ask me nicely," I grin, my fingers lightly tapping on the steering wheel. Perhaps I have a dormant alpha gene somewhere, with how much I'm enjoying taking care of them.
"Please, Damien, my handsome and smooth as hell beta mate, will you pretty please tell me where we're going?" She flutters her long eyelashes at me, and my cock stirs, wondering if that's how she looked when she had her lips wrapped around it. I had been deprived of the sight due to myotheromega being stuffed down my own throat.
Giving up control had been exhilarating, and I kind of want to doit again.
Not right this very second, though. "Now tell me how pretty I am."
"You're beautiful," she deadpans, staring at me head on.
"Why thank you, bright eyes," I shoot her a wink, "you're not too bad yourself."
"Are you going to tell me?"
My brows furrow in mock confusion. "Tell you what?"
"Motherfucker!" Bethany laughs! "Tell me where we're going!"
"Huh." I muse, tapping my chin. "I've actually never fucked anyones mother before. Guess I'll have to wait a little bit for that." I throw in a wink, letting my eyes drop down her body for good measure as her jaw drops, and by the time she picks it up, we're pulling into the parking lot of our destination.
"Starbrook Lane Nursery?" She squeaks, looking at me with wide eyes. "It's Sunday…and already seven—won't they be closed?"
"We're not here to shop, little omega," I purr, putting the car in park and reaching in the backseat for my backpack. It normally goes against everything in my fashion-conscious brain to carry a backpack like one of the teenagers I teach. Unfortunately, I don't own anything else that can carry everything I need tonight, so backpack it is.
I take Bethany's hand in mine as we approach the nursery, and pull the keycard out of my pocket that Mr. Branson gave me Friday afternoon. All it took was a promise of a custom ceramic sculpture that can be used as a water feature in the nursery and his wife gave me access for the entire night. When I had asked if he could turn off the security cameras, he only gave me a long-suffering look before telling me to 'clean up after myself'.
"How…" Bethany's expression is one of shock as I open the door and step back, motioning with a flourish.
"After you, bright eyes."
She steps inside without a word, and I step inside, letting the door fall shut behind me.
There's no need to flip the switch for the lights, because the space is illuminated by string lights, wrapped around beams that stand throughout the large greenhouse.
The glass ceiling, combined with the golden glow of the sunset outside, as well as the soft illumination of the string lights, makes the nursery look like some sort of…
"It's like an enchanted forest," Bethany breathes. "How did you do this?"
Enchanted forest.That'swhat I was going to say.
"Elliot Branson is an English teacher at Starbrook City High. His wife, Theresa, owns the nursery. I made a trade."
Her brows furrow. "A trade? For what?"
"A sculpture," I shrug, threading her fingers through mine and start to lead her through the nursery. She keeps pace next to me, her attention snagged every which way by all the different plants and flowers.
"It's so beautiful," I don't even know if she realizes she's said it out loud, with the way she's entranced.
"Not as beautiful as you." My voice comes out ragged, unrefined. She almost startles, her steps coming to a halt before studying me for a moment, my cheeks heating under her scrutiny.
"Huh," she says thoughtfully, turning to face me fully.
"What?"
"Well, I think that was a genuine compliment and not a pickup line."
My lip quirks up in a wry smile. "Weirder things have been known to happen."
