Page 58 of Fourth Base with the Alpha
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure, Hunter.” She grins. “Besides, it’s a free trip to Sweden. I have a passport sitting in my bedroom drawer that I’ve never even used.”
“You’ve never been out of the country?”
“Never.”
I pull her into my lap and nuzzle her neck. Actual excitement bubbles in my chest.
“Then I’m going to show you around when we get there.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be a good excuse to escape.”
Her grin is so wide it practically stretches from ear to ear and my cock is hard for her. I’m hanging on to the last thread of my honor by not doing what I want to do most: straddle her over my lap and have her ride me until she’s begging for my knot.
I force out a long puff of air and push her onto her feet.
She pouts at me. “I was happy where I was.”
“Kim gave my ears a bashing this morning, little Omega. I signed a contract promising not to touch you and I’m not breaking it.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Not breaking it again,” I mutter.
She opens her mouth as if she might argue with me, but then a shadow passes across her face and there’s that sadness hanging in her eyes again.
It’s that man. That other man. The one who caused the heartbreak. She’s thinking of him.
“I’m going to get Kim to book the flights for tomorrow and break the news to Mick that we’re taking a trip. You are going to go home and pack.” Before I pull you inside, bend you over the nearest piece of furniture and rip straight through the heart of that contract.
“What should I bring to Sweden?”
“Jeans and a sweater. It’ll be cold.”
She stares out towards the sun low in the sky and still blazing hot. “Cold sounds nice.”
“Come on, I’ll call Mick to come and drive you home.”
“I can catch the bus.”
I snort. No fucking way. I’d drive her myself if I thought I’d actually have the restraint not to drive us straight into the nearest alleyway and drag her into the backseats.
I start making calls and Isabella entertains herself opening all my kitchen cupboards and tutting at the contents while she waits for her car.
I try not to look at her ass too much when ever she bends right over, but it’s almost fucking impossible.
It has to be the peachiest ass I’ve ever seen. I might even write a damn song about it.
When my phone beeps telling me Mick has arrived, I feel a strange sense of disappointment. I don’t want her to leave. Her presence is like a beam of sunshine in a darkened room, painting everything in color. When she’s gone, I’ll be back to gray and monotone.
It’s a stupid thought. I’m seeing her tomorrow. I’m taking her to Sweden. A bad idea. A fucking bad idea. And yet, one I don’t regret one bit.
I walk her to the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then, I guess?”
“You will. Mick and I will be around to pick you up at 2pm. Don’t forget to pack that passport of yours.”
She laughs. “I won’t.”
Her hand lingers on the doorknob but she doesn’t press down.
