Page 96 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
She takes it from my hand and runs the pad of her thumb over the smoothed wood. “A key?”
“It’s representative, or some such shit,” I mumble.
“Of what?”
I chuckle and glance down at the floor, at our feet, hers so small compared to my giant ones. “It’s meant to represent the key to my heart. Because you already own that key, Bea.” She steps closer to me and the toes of our shoes are only a few inches apart. “Plus,” I say, looking up at her with a grin, “I thought it would be useful for the eye gouging.”
She giggles. “Oh, I have Nate’s knife for that now.”
“Nate’s knife?”
She nods and hooks it out of the waistband of her skirt, lifting it up to show me.
I take it from her hand and examine it, half expecting to find it’s a copy. It’s not. It’s the real thing, all worn and well-used. “I can’t believe he gave this to you.” I turn it over, searching for the engraving that’s long since faded. “Mr. Stormgate gave it to him. It used to cause us all kinds of grief when we were kids. The number of clubs that refused us at the door because of that thing,” I shake my head, “but he refused to leave it behind.” I hand it back to her. “And now he’s given it to you.” I chuckle. “My heart, Nate’s knife, what else are you going to collect, little one?”
She shuffles forward and lifts up her hand, hesitating for a moment before she lies it flat against my chest, right above the place where my heart is pounding madly for her.
I stop breathing. I daren’t move.
“This heart?” she asks, peering up at me through her long eyelashes, her lips wet.
“This heart.” I close my hand over hers, pressing her palm against my ribs, wanting her to feel every beat.
She closes her eyes. I want to kiss her so badly. I’m also curious to see what this strange little omega will do next. She’s so different from any I’ve ever met.
And I’m not at all surprised to find her surprising me again in the next minute.
She slides her hand out from under mine and when I try to catch it and drag it back, she shakes her head. Instead, she winds her fingertips down my chest, sending electricity skirting through my body, and reaches the hem of my shirt. Here she pauses, taking a deep inhale of my scent, before sliding her hand under the fabric and back up over my chest. This time I feel her touch against my skin and I sigh with how good that feels.
When she reaches my heart, she flattens out her hand. It’s warm. I want it there always.
I reach behind me and, fisting the neck of my shirt, I tug it over my head with one swift swipe.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she giggles, eyes flying open and pupils blowing wide as she takes in my bare chest.
She darts her hand away and I yank it straight back to my heart, holding it there.
“Omegas need skin-to-skin contact.”
“I’m not a baby,” she says, her giggle dissolving into a laugh.
“Yes, you are, baby girl,” I say, tracing her jaw with my free hand, tilting it up towards me, leaning down to kiss her lips.
My heart hammers hard against her hand, hammers even harder when she moans into my mouth, hammers so hard I think my ribs might crack when I pull her in close, flush against me.
“See,” I say.
“Uh huh,” she mutters, sounding sweetly dazed.
Then she does it again. Whipping my fucking breath away with astonishment, when she reaches down to the hem of her own shirt and slowly lifts it over her head.
The lacy bra she’s wearing underneath is enough to have all the blood in my heart running south and for a long minute I simply stare down at her tits, full, round, fucking perfect.
“Skin to skin,” she says. “Is it good for alphas too?”
“You have no fucking idea how good it is for alphas,” I growl.
But as I pull her flush again, she gets a good idea. I’m so hard for her now, it’s impossible to miss.
