Page 8 of Nursing the Alpha
“Oh.” He frowned as if sad about it, but then he smiled and waved. “All right, then. See you around, Seth. You’re soeasy to talk to. I hope my rambling about chest-feeding doesn’t put you off your dinner.”
As if.
If anything, his ramblings only opened up my appetite.
“Have a good evening, Flynn.”
He disappeared into the crowd, shirt damp where his feeding pads had failed. Again. The scent of milk lingered behind him like a promise.
I waited until he turned the corner. Then I followed. Quiet, at a distance. I just needed to know. Toseewhere he lived.
A simple walk.
Just a look.
I didn’t mean to stalk him.
He slipped down a quiet side street and stopped in front of a redbrick apartment building with oversized windows that stared blankly at the road. Potted plants flanked the worn stone steps, struggling to lend some charm to the otherwise unremarkable facade. He fished out his keys, his movements practiced, and disappeared inside without a backward glance.
I lingered on the sidewalk a moment longer, the air cool against my skin.
I turned and walked away.
4
FLYNN
The bookstore smelled like old paper and cinnamon candles. It was one of those cozy little chains that tricked you into thinking you’d only stay five minutes but somehow stole hours of your life.
I was only going to glance at the new alien romance table. Just glance.
Thirty minutes later, I was holding a glossy paperback with a shirtless, horned alien clutching a human omega to his chest like a prize. The tagline read:
He’s obsessed. He’s bigger than I can take. And he won’t stop until I’m bred full of his heirs.
My cheeks flamed.
God. Why did the disturbing ones always make my pulse quicken? The darker the premise, the faster my chest went tight and my thighs pressed together.
I thumbed through the first chapter. The omega had already been collared and thrown over the alien’s shoulder.
What would that even feel like?
A too-large hand wrapping around my neck. Being held down, milk drippingfrom my pecs as?—
I snapped the book shut, heart hammering.
“Nope,” I muttered under my breath. “Not doing this in public.”
But I still carried it to the counter. Along with two more equally unhinged selections. Just in case.
The line was long. Of course it was.
I checked my phone. 3:52 p.m.
Shit.
The subway. If I didn’t get moving, I’d miss the 4:05. Sure, there’d be another one in twenty minutes, buthewouldn’t be on that one.
