Page 7 of Claimed By His Omega Dragon's Fire
“Can I have another one, please?”
“Of course. You wanna try it with espresso this time?”
“Sure, why not. I’m on vacation after all.”
“Yes,” Brock says with a little cheer, stretching the word out as he claps his hands. “We love to see it. Let’s get you all hyper so you can properly enjoy your vacation,” he says with a warm chuckle.
Brock turns around, getting to work on my drink. I watch him as best as I can from this angle, needing to get on my tiptoes to actually see him from over the counter. He hums to himself as he works and for some reason, that makes me smile.
What is it about this guy that has my brain turning into a pile of goo? What is it about his scent that’s driving me wild? It’s like I can’t think properly past the overwhelming mantra ofBrock, mine, mate, mark, Brock. My animal side and human side are clashing and I’m doing my best to hold on to my decorum and not completely embarrass myself in front of him.
“There we are,” Brock says, turning around and sliding the drink over to me. “I hope you enjoy, Aiden.”
“Thank you.” I pull out my wallet and pass him a twenty. “You can just keep the change. Now we’re even after I fumbled yesterday.”
Brock’s smile widens. “You didn’t fumble anything. I was telling you the truth, I was willing to do just about anything to make sure I saw you again today.”
I sputter and my cheeks heat. The fact that he’s so brazen and bold delights me. I’m not good at stuff like this. The flirting and double meanings and the ‘will they, won’t they’. The fact that he’s so straightforward with his advances takes some of the pressure off of me. There’s no questioning that he’s into me, or at the very least thinks I’m attractive. I’m more than happy to follow Brock’s lead.
Turning around, I make sure there’s no one else in line. “Would you like to come have breakfast with me?”
Brock frowns. “I’m not actually staying here. Or rather, I’m not paying for a cabin so I’m not sure the free breakfast extends to me.”
“I’ll go bring us something simple out. We can eat out here.”
A moment passes. And then another. I think maybe I’ve overstepped before finally, Brock nods his head. “Yeah, okay. Bring me a muffin and an apple if they have ‘em. Something chocolatey, please.”
“You got it,” I tell him, setting my drink on the counter by him. “Hold on to that for me?”
“I promise I won’t drink it while you’re gone.”
My face cracks into a grin before I turn away and head into the lodge. I scan the table of breakfast items, my eyes landing on the tower of muffins. I’m a man on a mission as I search through them all until I find a chocolate chip one. I feel like a lioness hunting for their mate which is absolutely ridiculous because one, I’m a wolf, and two, Brock isnotmy mate.
A tiny voice in the back of my head whispers a snarky littlenot yetthat I pointedly ignore.
As pack alpha, I’ve always been in touch with my instincts. In some ways, I know my instincts are even stronger than the others in my pack, but they’ve never quite beenthisloud before. I don’t know what’s so different about Brock but my inner alpha isbeggingme to find out. I want to get to know him. I want to know everything there is to learn. I also want to run my nose over every inch of his body and catalogue the magnitude of his scent.
I grab two apples, two muffins, and two protein bars for good measure before heading back outside. The air helps clear my head the tiniest bit right up until I get the scent of Brock in my nose once more. Then everything gets tossed right out the window and my instincts are rattling around inside my brain like a caged animal all over again. My mouth waters at the fresh berry scent.
When I step back over to The Feisty Latte, there’s a sign in the open window, letting people know that Brock is taking a little break.
“Over here,” Brock calls out and I follow the sound of his voice to the backside of his truck. Brock has the truck doors wide open and is sitting on the back steps. He pats the step next to him.
“Here,” I say, handing over one of the apples and a chocolate chip muffin. “They didn’t have double chocolate but they did have chocolate chip. I hope that’s okay.”
“You are a god among men,” he says as I sit down beside him. I’m aware of his presence next to me and every place where our bodies are touching; our thighs, our hips, our knees. My stomach is a mess of butterflies and my head grows overwhelmingly light, like it’s ready to unattach and drift up into the clouds. Jesus, what has gottenintome?
“I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just a muffin.”
“But you got it for me. That’s what matters.”
I feel my face flush despite the way I’m doing my best to keep my head level. Being this close to him, I can smell him even more. The scent straight from the source has me breathless.
Now that I’m sharing such a tight space with him, I can smell that he’s some sort of shifter, something big, some sort of predator. I can also smell the way his scent is soft around the edges; an omega.
Brock smells like fresh, juicy raspberries picked right from the vine. Pink and lush and tasty. Smelling him this close has my mouth watering, wanting to bite into a ripe berry, wanting to dig my teeth into his skin and see if the rest of him smells as good.
My own orangey scent is mixing with his this close and it’s downright divine. We smell like we belong together. Like a bright summer day in the garden, picking fruit straight from the tree. I can’t stop thinking about other ways we can mix our scents, having his slick against my chest or my cum spread across his skin.
