Page 34 of In Doubt
“God, no!” I reply. “He hates me as much as I hate him.”
“I genuinely thought there was something going on between the two of you,” Zoe says, rubbing her wet hair with a towel.
“Nope,” I say.
“Not even today?” Sia asks, bumping my shoulder a second time.
I think about my mini-panic attack in the trench. I think about the strange spark of electricity I felt when he held my hand. I think about how he told everyone that we both made that find.
“Nothing at all,” I answer and then hurry into the shower before she can quiz me anymore.
A cold shower is certainly in order after those photos. I need to dampen any raging ideas before they take hold. Ideas like what it would feel like to run my hand down Jake’s oiled chest. What it would taste like to run my tongue over Levi’s abs. And what the hell lies behind that Christmas present?
Just because I’m not interested in getting screwed over by an alpha, doesn’t mean I’m some born-again virgin. I’m still an omega after all with desires and needs. I’ve just found safer ways of satisfying those needs since …
Safe, respectable beta and omega men who are slightly terrified of my brother and his pack. Safe is what I want. Definitely not raging desires and unruly feelings. That only leads to trouble.
I fling my head back and let cold water flow over my face. Those photos have stirred something inside me. Or maybe it was being around alphas all day. Between my legs a pulse begins to throb.
Maybe if I were to give into it, then these desires would vanish as quickly as they’ve appeared.
The image of Jake Grantham keeps barging its way into my mind, tempting me with that stupid towel. The electricity from earlier simmers at my fingertips and my gland tingles. This is not good. Not good at all. I shouldn’t be allowing myself to get all hot and bothered. I certainly shouldn’t be considering relieving the aching need between my thighs.
Relieving the ache while thinking of Jake.
I bite my lip.
If I indulge … for a moment … just this once …
I hook the shower head from the wall and allow the jet of water to race between my legs. The temperature is cool, making me gasp. I close my eyes, forbidden images of those alphas, of what they could do to me, taking over my mind.
For once I give in and let them. As the water massages everything sensitive between my legs and the pressure builds, I give way to it.
Once, can’t hurt, can it? Indulging in a teeny weeny fantasy – of tongues, hands and teeth, exploring my body, of deep groans and blunt growls, of strong bodies and firm grips. Of being held down, of being pleased, of being rutted. It isn’t dangerous.
The idea of a pack may seem appealing but a pack has always seemed way out of my league. Something I could never handle. I’m not like Connie. Assertive. I’m damaged.
So what’s been the point of entertaining these ideas? Why allow myself to fall into this fantasy?
Except now I can’t resist.
But now I do.
I bite my lip harder, swallowing down my moans as I come, body jerking in the water and the showerhead nearly tumbling from my grasp.
When I step out of the cubicle and peer at myself in the mirror, my cheeks are pink and my eyes hooded in lust. I hope no one will notice.
* * *
Atable has been set up in the yard behind the hotel, lanterns hanging on the trees and candles flickering on the ground now the hot sun has finally sunk away. I find myself somehow sitting at the end of the table, with who right beside me?
Yep, Jake Grantham.
I’m surprised to see him here this evening. I thought he would have dumped this communal dinner in favour of hanging out with his pack. But here he is dressed in light coloured chinos and a blue shirt that makes the colour in his eyes even more vibrant. He’s left the top few buttons undone flashing a stretch of bare chest, and that damned photo keeps popping straight back into my mind.
That photo and what I’d done in the shower.
I cross my legs and ignore him as best I can.
