Page 61 of Gigi and the Gym Rats

And I’m not supposed to care. I tell myself to step away, get out, put some distance between us. I’m not supposed to fucking care, dammit.

Somehow my hand has released his forearm and made his way up to his shoulder, gripping the thicker muscle there.

“Casey,” I whisper. “Case. How can I help?”

“You can’t.” His voice is a breath. He glances at the door but makes no move to push away. Or pushmeaway. “It’s complicated.”

“Try me. I may be an alpha, but I can think without getting my dick’s opinion, too.”

He lets out a startled laugh. “I didn’t… Jesus, Ronin, we’re not…”

“Not friends, I know. My fault.”

Wecanbe friends, right? I can be friends with people. Doesn’t automatically mean I’m going to claim them and put a bite mark on their neck.

His eyes are wide again, and I like this wide-eyed look on him much more than the dark flash of pain I saw earlier. “But…”

“Hi, I’m Ronin Adair, and it’s fucking good to meet you, man.”

He looks away again, snorting a little. “Okay.”

“And now that’s out of the way,” I start but I lose my train of thought when he licks his lips. Now all I can think is tasting them, feeling how soft they are, discovering if they taste sweet. I’m painfully aware of his body all but molded to mine, strong and lithe. The faint stubble on his jaw catches my eye. He’s wearing a silver stud in one ear.

I slide my hand up his neck. I’m so close, my hard-on must be pressing into his stomach andfuck,I don’t know what I’m doing.

He makes a small sound in his throat, and then I’m kissing him, my hand curling behind his head. Sweet, sweet and bitter and delicious, swallowing his breath, any other sound he might have made.

And before I wonder if I’m forcing him into this and should beg for forgiveness, he groans and grabs my arms, kissing me back.

It occurs to me he’s the first omega I’ve ever kissed and that I’d grown up thinking they were soft and yielding creatures, but there’s nothing soft or yielding about Casey’s kiss, or the strength in the hands gripping me.

Definitely not the scent, not the scent alone drawing me to him,dammit.And what was that about biting and marking? My mind’s stuck on that, just like it was when Gigi went down on me, and fuck, even when I was kissing Grey at the bar.

Finally, Casey does push me away and it takes a moment for my brain to restart, to tell my hands to release him, my mouth to let go.

Casey brushes by me with a muffled curse and vanishes into his room, slamming the door shut.

Fuck.What have I done?

* * *

This situation is fucking with my head. I don’t have appointments this morning, but I hit the shower and head to the tattoo studio anyway, the urge to talk to Grey like a knife driving through my guts.

What happened with Casey is bothering me—not because I didn’t like it. Not even because I did like it, but because… does it count as cheating? What I did with Gigi, then kissing Casey… is that cheating on Grey?

This is fucking bullshit,I think.You can’t cheat without having a relationship in the first place. And we don’t have one.

It was just an arrangement,I tell myself,between Grey and me. Just sex. Nothing more.

But the burn of that cut persists.

What happened with Casey… that was my alpha instincts, I reason with myself. The protectiveness at seeing him distraught. He’s an omega and I’m made to look out for him, take care of him.

That’s all.

You don’t kiss all omegas.

Shut up.I just wanted to see if I felt anything while kissing him. If it felt the same as with Grey or Gigi.

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