Page 24 of Hot for Teacher
Chase gave him his other wrist, and Killian repeated the scent marking.
“Is this a good idea?” Chase asked, and Killian finally feltsomething settle in him at the slightly breathless way his question came out.
Still, Killian didn’t release him. Not yet. “My pheromones are notoriously overpowering,” he said quietly, moving up the inside of Chase’s arm to the sensitive skin at the crook of his elbow. Chase’s lips parted, his breath coming faster. “Sometimes they stick. No one will think anything of it.” Killian narrowed his eyes. “You reek of baby alphas.”
“My roommates,” Chase told him, confirming Killian’s earlier suspicions. “My friends.”
His pupils were blown already, from something as simple as a casual scent marking. Poor thing. Killian tried not to let it get to him. He was halfway successful.
Killian made a noncommittal noise, then took stock. There was still a subtle hint of spice and salt, but Chase now smelled of leather and cherries more than not.
A tightness in Killian’s chest eased.
“You may go.” He released his hold on Chase’s arm. “Keep your phone close.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
Without another word, Chase turned and left the room.
Killian could get angry right about now, convince himself he’d just been played. But he usually wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself—at least not so egregiously—and the truth was, he’d played himself.
Chase had barely spoken a word, and Killian had folded. Again.
Killian was a morning workout person.Always had been, probably always would be.
He liked to sweat out the fog of sleep, work out any lingering tensions or aggressions before starting the day. Weights, treadmill, rowing machine. He kept it varied in an attempt to keep his own interest. He felt pretty strongly that this consistent yet flexible routine was part of what kept him calm, despite his designation.
Killian had already worked out that morning, of course. And yet here he was at the gym again, just before dinnertime, sprinting on the treadmill like the devil himself was at his heels.
Killian had been brought here by some sort of vague idea that he could sweat Chase Adler out of his system.
Sure, Killian had caved back there in his office, but if he could hold out—if he could choose not to send that text tonight—things would stop there. Chase wouldn’t show up without Killian’s express invitation; Killian knew that much. Not at this stage, not with Killian’s “one time only” hanging in the air between them.
It was up to Killian to stay the course. Or to break.
And he’d just run three miles much more quickly than was wise, was now dripping with sweat, and was in no more control of his hormones than he had been a few hours before, with Chase Adler sitting pretty as he pleased in front of him, saying nothing and somehow asking everything.
Killian turned the treadmill off with a growl, easing himself off the damn thing and stalking to the gym’s locker room. He took a freezing-cold shower that did nothing to dull his edge, then dressed back in his work clothes. He hated that—getting dressed in dirty clothes after a shower. But he hadn’t been planning to go to the gym a second time that day, so he’d have to make do.
Killian would change at home. Something loose and comfortable. Soft clothes to soothe the savage beast, or something like that.
He was going to text Chase.
Fuck. No. No, I’m not.
He was.
Killian tore his belongings out of the locker and swiped through his phone, hitting the contact number of the one person whomighttalk him into reasonable action.
Prince picked up on the third ring.
“Killian,” he drawled, and somehow Killian could tell Prince was horizontal on that massive monstrosity he called a sofa. “Joining us tonight after all?”
“I’m about to do something stupid,” Killian announced, startling a beta woman leaving the women’s locker room as he turned the corner to the gym’s exit.
Silence on the other end.
“Hello?”
