Page 51 of Abel's Omega
“What would you like to do, then?” he asked. His smile was genuine, and he tucked his phone away in his pocket without fuss.
“Come dance with me.” I began walking backwards, leading him toward the sounds of the party. I did so love to dance. And to dance with him, without all my misgivings stealing the pleasure away, would be heaven.
“It’ll be lover’s dances now,” he said, his steps slow, though not reluctant.
He wants to give me time to change my mind. Except I wasn’t. He was dealing with me in good faith; I was determined to deal with him in that way. If we were truly courting, then I would dance lover’s dances with him, because I’d always saved those, waiting for my mate to find me.
It wasn’t exactly one of my novels, but it was close, and so much more real.
I stopped walking and let him catch up to me, two steps closing both the physical and the emotional distance between us. “It won’t be anything more than a dance tonight,” I warned him, then I put my hands on his shoulders and rose up on tiptoe to press my lips to his, awkward with nerves and hope.
Able let me take charge of the kiss and, to my surprise, I both liked it and didn’t. I wanted some expression of desire from him, something immediate, physical.
Overwhelming.
I pushed against him, opening my mouth and snaking my arms around his neck. Every omega trick I knew, I trotted it out, doing everything but pulling him down to the ground on top of me. He accepted my invitation and began advances of his own. His hands drew me closer, but at the same time I couldfeelthe care he took not to make me feel trapped in his embrace, and suddenly I wanted to be trapped, to be his, and for both of us to know that. I whined low in my throat and patted at his arms, until he got the hint and folded me up entirely within them.
Old fear and new desire warred inside me and my breath came in harsh pants as I fed at his mouth. His arms were so strong, like he could keep the world out, keep it all to just the two of us forever. Like he could protect me, protect us, from anything that came at us. Overwhelming, yes, but not frightening. He was careful with me, as if I were some fragile, precious thing in his arms. I nearly wept for the joy it brought me.
And a tiny seed of trust was planted.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
If they kept this up, Abel was going to want more than Bax was ready to give. Hell, he already did want more. He wanted everything. He wanted to wake up with Bax’s head beside him on the pillow, fight with the pups over breakfast while Bax put them all in their place. Maybe, someday, to hold Bax’s hand while he labored to bring their child into the world, assuming that someday Bax would want more pups.
Reluctantly, Abel put Bax from him. “We’ll miss the dancing,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Bax was wide-eyed, pupils gone huge and seductive. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, though he made no move to leave.
“Come on.” Abel took his hand and led him back toward the crowds and the music. Having an audience might keep him from acting more lovesick than he was. He could at least console himself that it was a fool in the right cause—Roland was a fool thrice over to let Bax out of hands. And Patrick a million times more, not to have seen what he had.
They broke out of the trees and Abel hoped Bax didn’t notice how the heads of everyone nearby swiveled to watch them approach. Bax moved close, changing his grip from Abel’s hand to his arm, his side pressed up warmly against Abel’s. Abel patted his hand and moved them into the shadow of a larger group to give Bax at least the illusion of obscurity.
He heard Bax take a deep breath. “If we’re going to do this, we shouldn’t be ashamed of it. You’re the Alpha; if things work out, I’ll be Alpha’s mate. I need to start acting like it.” His expression when Abel looked down at him was tight, not so much that of a man going to his death, but of a man preparing to face battle. Bax’s fingers pressed tight against Abel’s arm, then he rearranged his features into a smile and pulled Abel forward until they were on the very edge of the space, in plain view of everyone standing around the dancers currently going through their steps.
“You know, you constantly surprise me,” Abel told him.
“How is that?” Bax said cheerfully, though Abel could feel the tension beneath it.
“I’ve seen alphas that would have curled up and died in the face of everything you’ve had to deal with.” Abel turned a little toward Bax, and put his hand on Bax’s where it still rested in the crook of his elbow. “I think people underestimate your strength, because you’re gorgeous, and you’re very good at fading into the background despite that.” He squeezed a little to add emphasis to his next words. “I can’t even imagine the kind of things you’ve gone through, to force you to develop that kind of skill. I want to tell you how much I respect that. And if I do something to make you uneasy, I want you to tell me.” He smiled and nudged Bax gently with his hip. “Smack me down, if you need to.”
Bax’s eyes widened and he gave Abel a sharp look. It occurred to Abel that there almost seemed to be two Bax’s—one was the anxious omega trying to do everything to please everyone, the other this sharp-minded man with his own agenda. Abel waited, because some sixth sense told him that Bax was making a decision here, an even bigger one than he’d made in the grove, and one that would define the future of any relationship that they might have. He prayed silently that Bax would make the decision to trust him.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Bax asked, his expression suddenly sober.
Abel nodded. “I want to do well by you.”
He watched Bax mouth the words, as if he needed to taste the truth in them. Then his scent changed, still fearful and anxious, but excited as well. Bax’s entire body relaxed and he swayed against Abel’s body. “I think the dance is almost over, don’t you?” He bobbed slightly from side to side in time to the music, drawing Abel into a complimentary undulation. He grinned up at Abel. “Hope you can keep up.”
“I’ll keep up.” And his heart lifted in joy. He wanted the man he saw behind the omega and he thought, maybe, the door had cracked a little wider to let him in.
The music ended and the couples changed, taking their places for the next set. Abel led Bax out onto the grass and waited for the musicians to call the name of the dance. They’d timed it well—it was the Moon in the Clouds, a lovers’ dance.
“You sure?” he whispered in Bax’s ear.
Bax moved into place, his back to Abel’s front, and brought Abel’s hands around to rest on his hips. “Yes.” He nodded. “I’m making my claim.” But under the excitement, Abel still smelled his fear.
I’ll fix that. I promise.
