Page 48 of Nursing the Alpha
Tears spilled hot and silent down my cheeks as shame twisted through me.
But underneath the shame was need.
Dark. Overwhelming. Desperate.
I wanted him back.
God help me, I wanted Seth back.
The pump whirred steadily, drawing and releasing, drawing and releasing.
The chime of my phone startled me. I flinched so hard I nearly spilled the bottle.
For a second, I sat there, heart pounding like a trapped bird. Carefully, I set the pump aside and crossed the room to grab my phone from the bedside table.
One new message.
Seth:
You look so beautiful tonight.
The words sent a shock straight through me.
My breath caught as I turned my head toward the window. The curtains were still open, city lights casting long stripes of amber and shadow across the floor.
Seth.
Was he… out there? Watching?
My heart hammered, panic and something far more dangerous tangling until I could barely tell them apart.
I should close the blinds.
I should lock the windows.
I should call someone.
Instead, I walked back to the chair.
Slowly. Deliberately.
I set my phone on the sill. My fingers trembled as I reached for the pump and detached it.
I didn’t know why I did it.
Or maybe I did.
Maybe I knew exactly what I was doing as I cupped my hand under my heavy, tender chest and began to express the old-fashioned way.
The milk beaded quickly, spilling over my fingers, hot and sweet and faintly sticky. I bit my lip hard, eyes flicking to the dark street below as I gently massaged the side of my pec with my other hand.
Another chime.
Seth:
God, Flynn. I miss you.
My stomach fluttered violently. I pressed my thighs tight together and squeezed again, milk dripping steadily into the half-full bottle.
