Page 57 of Pack Choice
Her lips are a shade of pink. Slightly parted, wet. I can see her tongue behind her teeth.
I lean towards her … and a hand thumps me on the back.
“May I cut in?”
It’s the racing driver. Unlike everyone else here tonight, he isn’t dressed in a tux. Instead, he’s in dark blue chinos and a white shirt, undone at the neck, sleeves rolled up.
The image has always puzzled me. He looks like a man on permanent holiday, who doesn’t care about anything. Yet he’s won more world championships than anyone else in his sport. I suspect that it’s a facade. Underneath is a man who cares very much. A man who is driven and relentless.
I go to answer him. He may be driven. He may be relentless. But my job is to protect the omega. And he is just the kind of man I’m paid to protect her from – even if she may have a thing or two to say about that.
But before my response leaves my mouth, the omega has interjected.
“Nope,” she says, “I’m dancing with Ford.”
A smugness swims through my stomach.
“Is he allowed to dance with you?” River asks with amusement.
“I didn’t take you as a stickler for the rules, River Caspian,” Molly says.
He chuckles. “Guilty as charged, little one. Well, may I have the next dance at least?”
She shrugs in a nonplussed manner. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
River leans in, whispering in her ear, my body automatically tensing. “I’d be prepared to wait a very long time to get my hands on you, little one.”
She shivers in my arms.
And I curse my inability with words, because I want to make her shiver like that. I want her shivering like that all night. I pull her towards me involuntarily, and the racing car driver peers up at me. Realization dawns over his face. He knows. As if it wasn’t clear in my scent. He isn’t the only one who wants this omega.
14
Molly
I am a bad omega.A very bad omega.
Omegas are meant to be all about bringing alphas together, encouraging them to share, promoting harmony.
Here I am loving the fact that three different alphas are fighting over me. With absolutely no intention of sharing and no sense of harmony in sight.
But oh it is a turn on. A very big turn on. I can understand why Helen was happy for all those Greeks and Trojans to do battle, rather than simply sailing home with her husband.
For an omega, who’s often last to be picked, bottom of the pile, it feels nice to be wanted for a change. Even if this isn’t whatIshould be wanting.
It doesn’t help that all three of these men have invaded my dreams with their naughty ways and set pulses racing in more than just my wrists.
After dancing three songs with Ford – enjoying the way his body loosens under my grip and seems to mold with mine, confirming (if I didn’t know already) that we’d fit very well together, horizontally as well as vertically – I capitulate and agree to dance with River Caspian.
My brothers would both have simultaneous strokes if they saw me dancing with this alpha. His reputation for womanizing is notorious, but there is a reason he’s so popular with the ladies. The man is hotter than the pits of hell. I’m surprised my fingers don’t sizzle when I take his hands. And his eyes. They have an intensity to them that has me wanting to fall to my knees and submit like a good omega and not a bad one at all.
I’m not a fan of the sport, but Hardy (one of my brothers’ packmates) is and I’ve often caught him watching a race on the TV. I’ve seen footage of River racing. I’ve seen that same intensity in his eyes, beneath his helmet as he drags his car around corners, speeding along stretches, swooping past his competitors. The man has a power to him that is mesmerizing.
River Caspian could have any woman he wanted. But he seems to want me. For now anyway. I’m not that naïve.
I also don’t care. I’m going to enjoy swooning in his arms, electricity dancing across my skin as he circles his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against his body.
“I can’t believe you spent 500 grand on a date with Colten.”
