Page 90 of Alphas Like Us
FARROW KEENE
Today marksmy last week on security, but SFO doesn’t know that yet. Clock strikes 4 a.m., and quietly, I slip out of Maximoff’s bed and find a pair of my boxer-briefs in his drawer. I search forpants.
Almost all of my shit is in his room: clothes, toiletries, a few medical texts that I dug out recently, and my electronics. I prefer it this way. Not only because security’s townhouse contains Thatcher, and the less time I spend around him, the better. But because Maximoff will sometimes scrutinize all of my belongings in his room and start to unknowinglysmile.
It’s cute ashell.
I pull my black pants to my waist, and Maximoff blinks awake beneath his comforter. He extends his left arm to reach for the bedsidelight.
“Go back to sleep,” I whisper, fishing my belt through the loops. “It’s mail day.” The Omega lead schedules a specific day and time to examine our client’s mail. It’s usually at 4 a.m.—when all the famous ones should theoretically beasleep.
Maximoff collapses back and pinches his tired eyes. “Have fun with that.” His brain must start waking up because he quickly asks, “Are you telling themtonight?”
I pull a black V-neck over my head. “Technically, it’smorning.”
He growls into an uncontrollable yawn. “I don’t think you realize how annoying your technicalitiesare.”
“Trust me, I do.” I smile as irritation scrunches his brows. “Man, that’s partially why I keep them up, just foryou.”
“I’m partiallyhonored.”
I grin and hook my radio on my waistband. Before I go, I return to the bed. And I hang my hand on the headboard and dip down towards him. Close enough to kiss him, and as much as I want my lips against his lips, teasing the hell out of him is too good topass.
“I’m going to tell SFO,” Iconfirm.
“Need help or any backup?” he asks. We’ve discussed Omega’s possible reactions, and the only one that I can’t predict is Thatcher Moretti. The rest should be fine. My friendship with Oscar and Donnelly is easy for a reason. We roll with the punches and almost never hound eachother.
“I’ll be okay.” I linger for asecond.
Maximoff is staring at mymouth.
I smile wider. “You think I’m going to kissyou?”
“Who said I wanted you to?” He’s only looking at my eyes now. Trying to beat me at the whole teasing thing. It’s not going towork.
I lower closer, planning on pulling away at the last second, but he clasps the crook of my neck. Our breaths meld, and our mouths meet like a fucking magnet. I rest my knee on the bed, my hand dropping to his jaw—fuck, Maximoff…his tongue parts my lips. Driving the kiss deeper, a coarse noise scratches mythroat.
His left hand sneaks up myshirt.
Shit.
I’m almost about to climb on top of him. I tear our mouths apart. “Damn,” I breathe hard and step back before I end up in bed withhim.
Maximoff smiles like he won something. “Looks like you wanted to kissme.”
I walk backwards. “Never said I didn’t, wolfscout.”
My words and smooth tone must relax him. He oozes into the pillow, as much as he can for being in a sling and without heavy painmedication.
It’s always hard to leave when I love being around him. But this’ll be our regular routine when I restart my residency. And to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel aboutthat.
Exiting the attic, I skip rapidly down the narrow staircase. Cats dart out from under the Victorian loveseat, and then I scare Walrus with my foot. He scurries beneath the iron cafétable.
“Stay there, you little bastard,” I warn, slipping through the adjoining door. Shutting out the calico cat behindme.
As soon as I’m inside security’s townhouse, I’m met with a stench that I can’tpinpoint.
Let’s just say it smells worse than Ben Cobalt’s rankB.O.
