Pack Fever: Omegaverse Romance, page 19
I’m cradled between his spread thighs, both of us still on our knees. I press myself closer, consumed with the urgency of having my body pressed flush against his. I rub my breasts against him, wanting to tease him as much as he does me, and I’m not talking about my heat. This is so much deeper.
Raw.
Uncomplicated.
Pure carnal desire.
I’ve been drawn to him since our first time at Nocturne, and things have only escalated between us.
His hand slides up my back and under my shirt. Then he scoops it around to the front and gropes one of my breasts since I don’t have anything under my top.
I moan hungrily, taking his tongue into my mouth. All scattered thoughts vanish as slick slips out of me. This tee and my sweatpants are my pajamas, so there’s no underwear to catch all my excitement. His big hand moves across to my other breast, pinching and tugging on my nipple as my body shudders.
Gasping into his mouth, he breaks our kiss, smiling so deviously, I’m convinced I’m about to orgasm.
He lifts my shirt to stare at my breasts.
“You want me to suck on your gorgeous tits?”
I’m breathing hard now, grasping his arms.
“Is this like a trick question?” I barely manage to stop myself from demanding he do it, right now.
“Then beg,” he says, his tone darkening.
I blink at him, his sudden shift taking me off guard, and as if catching me confused, he leans in and licks my lips.
“Hey, sweetheart, let me know if you want this. You’re going to devastate me, aren’t you?”
A moan rolls past my throat before I register it. I’m insatiable around him, as if my body responds addictively to the way he speaks to me.
He tugs my shirt down my chest and rakes his gaze over my body before lifting his gaze to mine.
“It’s okay, good girls wait.”
I grab hold of his hand, not wanting to let go.
“It’s not a no,” I murmur in a moment of awkwardness. “You just surprised me.”
He smiles, and it’s easy to see that there’s something much darker behind his gaze when he looks at me. Placing his hand on the side of my neck, he holds me like he has control over me.
“When you need me for your heat, I will be at your beck and call. I will give you everything you desire and so much more. I’m dying to experience your heat’s hunger firsthand, but sometimes, I like to experiment, to have so much more with you.”
“You want to dominate me, don’t you?” I ask, thinking of his command for me to beg him.
“Will that be a problem?” His thumb runs the length of my jawline.
My hard nipples brush against the fabric of my shirt each time I move even a smidgen.
“I’m willing to try anything for you, sir,” I answer playfully, unsure how I ended up in this conversation, but I’m enjoying discovering the layers of these Alphas. They aren’t exactly how they appear at first glance. The more I think about it, Seth being dominating shouldn’t be a surprise. He controls the band, he’s the lead singer, and I’ve seen Jasper and Reed fall into line with his final word.
“I like how those words fall from your pretty lips.” He pulls back and sits on his heels, studying me with pure confidence on his face. He’s completely in control of the situation, of me. I see that now.
My breathing grows erratic, as though I’ve forgotten how to draw air into my lungs. Then he flashes me a smile, like he’s a wolf, and I want to be his prey. I bite down on my lower lip as I clench my thighs at the arousal spiraling through me like a tornado at the thought of being dominated by him.
Suddenly, I’m super aware of how close we are, how intense his Alpha scent teases me, how his jeans are tenting over his cock. I stare into those deep blue eyes that are speckled with gold. How have I not noticed them before now?
Desire thunders through me, and I can’t help but think that he might have unleashed a hidden kink inside me I didn’t know I had. With it comes an unbearable need that has me close to salivating. So does a slight trepidation that I’m not thinking straight, and when I discover he won’t want me after my heat, I’ll be broken beyond fixing.
A voice tells me I’m already too far gone, yet I’m pulling away from the bed.
“I-I should probably go to sleep,” I murmur, my feet already carrying me to the door, my head spinning with emotions I can’t make sense of. I can’t explain it, but the reality of what I’m playing with promises to leave me broken. I feel it so hard that it terrifies me.
I never should have done anything with Jasper, either, as I’m asking for heartache.
It’s easier if I tell myself that their pack is helping me with my heat. Even Jasper’s words in the elevator were spoken in a moment of heady arousal. What if they find out they don’t want an imperfect Omega? Can I deal with that?
My gaze clashes with Seth’s blue one, and at that moment, I realize the reason his proposal worries me is that I’m falling for him. I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen… I don’t know what to do, so I turn and rush out of his room.
Chapter
Seventeen
DANICA
I’m in the doorway at the rear of Fever’s building, tugging down on my hoodie to hide my face, just in case Nexus are watching. Even if it’s late evening and the rain is coming down in torrents, drenching everything in its path, I don’t put anything past the organization.
Thunder cracks overhead, and I hug myself, anxiety creeping through me.
Parked on the road a bit farther down is a massive bus, the Fever tour bus, even if it has no signage. Reed’s climbing onboard, Jasper close behind but pauses in the doorway and turns to me, waving me over. Seth sprints toward me with an umbrella from the bus, his gaze filled with concern as he reaches my side.
“Come on, Danica,” he urges, holding the umbrella over both of us.
But my legs are made of stone and won’t move. I can’t get them to budge, no matter how much I want to take a step closer to the tour bus to stop the fear crowding my mind.
A thunderous roar shakes the world, the buildings around me seeming to quake. I flinch, pulling back indoors. I’ve been standing here for what feels like an eternity while the guys have loaded our bags onto the bus. Yet I’m frozen in place.
Lightning streaks across the dark sky, and the monstrous rain feels like a suffocating shackle around my throat, making it hard to breathe.
Seth’s saying something, but I can’t hear him, not when my mind’s flashing with images of my dad and me screaming in the car that’s lost control in the rain, the empty look in his eyes, the agony, the loss. Then the bus racing down the mountain during a storm, the trauma of being trapped inside, the flames.
I gasp, grasping myself tighter, staring at the rain, knowing I can’t do this.
I just can’t.
My throat thickens as Seth reaches out for me.
“I’ll carry you, so you don’t get your shoes wet.”
I pull back instinctively, shaking my head. “I-I can’t go,” I stammer. I’m shaking hard, my head throbbing with my hammering heartbeat.
Seth’s brows pinch together. “Have you changed your mind?”
I blink at him, then turn my gaze back to the storm outside. Another deafening thunderclap has me shaking hard.
Seth studies me, his expression softening. “The storm scares you?” he asks tenderly. “I promise I’ll hold and protect you on the bus.”
But it’s too much. I can’t stop seeing my father’s dead eyes, and tears are forming in mine.
“No, you don’t understand,” I murmur. “It’s not just the storm. I mean, it is, but me and storms and buses and cars don’t mix. I’m bad luck, and I’m going to get us killed.”
His lips are pinching tight. “Wait! What brought this on?” His voice is soft, and there’s confusion dancing behind his gaze.
No words come out as tears well up in my eyes. Before I can find a response, another thunderous roar rattles the building.
I jump in fear, and without hesitation, I turn and bolt back into the building, rushing to our quarters. I don’t stop until I’m inside my room, the door locked, and I’m stumbling into the bathroom, also locking the door behind me.
I want to be alone. Alone. Alone.
I flick on the lights, and the walls feel like they’re closing in on me.
Tears stream down my face as my legs give out, and I collapse to the floor on my knees. I hug myself tightly, rocking back and forth, trying to stop the revolving images of my father’s dead eyes in my mind.
“Dad…” I groan, trembling, crying, terrified.
He’s suspended in his seat belt, almost like a puppet with its strings cut through, as his arms hang lifelessly, swaying slightly with the rocking of the car.
But his eyes steal my breath.
They’re wide open.
Staring at nothing. Empty.
All I can think about is that accident, as it vividly plays in my thoughts. Barely able to stand it a second longer, I shove myself up from the floor and stumble to the sink. With shaking hands, I reach into a hidden corner of the cabinet and retrieve a blade from a razor I’d stored there. It shakes in my hand, catching the harsh bathroom light. My head feels cloudy, my vision blurry with tears.
My head is a chaotic mess.
I yank down the sleeve of my top, over my shoulder and lower, revealing a heavily scarred arm. I cringe on the inside, hating the way it looks.
Marred skin with raised bumps from the countless glass cuts I endured during the accident. Some of the cuts are still red, like they never really want to heal, and there are areas where my skin looks disfigured. A horrid reminder I can’t escape, a reminder of everything I lost.
I hate looking at it, and I hate myself for what I caused.
My hand moves deftly with the blade in my grip, slicing the skin, the sting instant, blood already bubbling. I grit my teeth, welcoming the pain that chases away the memories. The sting sharpens.
A loud knock pounds on the bathroom door.
I flinch, dropping the blade into the sink with a light clanking sound, a few drops of blood rolling down my arm.
“Hey, Danica, can I come in?” Seth asks.
“No, wait outside,” I answer frantically, grabbing the blade, rinsing it, then shoving it back into the cabinet.
“No rush with the bus. We can wait until the storm passes, okay?” Silence. “Can we talk?”
“Just go without me.” I desperately snatch the white towel and soak one edge in the running water in the sink, then wipe my blood. Rapidly, I search for a Band-Aid in the cabinet when I knock over the plastic tumbler I keep my toothpaste and toothbrush in.
It hits the tiles, bouncing around, thunderously clashing each time it hits the floor.
I’m cringing, murmuring. “Fuck, fuck.”
As I dive for it, the door shoves open, the lock snapped open.
A yelp escapes my lips as I spin to face Seth in the doorway, the towel dropping from my grasp.
His gaze zooms in on my arm, and I freak out, rapidly tugging the collar of my shirt up and over my shoulder. Then I whip around from him, my chest pumping for oxygen while my cheeks are on fire. He can’t see the ugliness I am.
Heavy silence leaves me feeling exposed and cornered, knowing he must think I’m damaged and undesirable—broken.
“Danica, what’s going on?” His voice sounds almost brittle.
His footsteps approach me, but I can’t turn around to face him. I want to drown and escape. His hand is on my waist, and I flinch away.
“Talk to me,” he says. “Why is your arm bleeding? Did you do that to yourself?”
It’s unsettling to be attracted to someone so much that I’m terrified of him rejecting me.
I start to twist around to dart out of the bathroom, but he blocks my path with his huge frame. I don’t get far as he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body.
“Danica, look at me,” he demands, his hand under my chin, lifting my head, making me meet his gaze.
I can’t stop the damn tears tracking down my burning cheeks.
“It’s nothing,” I murmur and hiccup for breath. “I accidentally cut myself.” Fighting his grasp, I push against him. “You can let me go.”
His stare is on the bloody towel on the floor, at the slightly ajar cabinet, at the tap still running with water, then on me. Those enormous eyes hold me, and I’m trembling in his arms. He knows. God, he knows the truth. He’s not an idiot.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I murmur. “I already know I’m broken, not good enough for any Alpha, let alone someone like you.”
My heart’s thundering in my chest as loudly as the storm outside, expecting rejection. Instead, he just stares at me, his lips tightening, and there it is. He’s finding a way to push me away because everyone wants the perfect Omega. A tainted one is an embarrassment.
I start to pull away, but his breathing quickens, and he draws me strongly into his arms, hugging me tightly like somehow, I’m his entire world.
We mold together, our bodies fitting perfectly as one. His chest rises and falls, and for a moment, it’s as though we’re sharing the pain and suffering. Which can’t be right. But he’s not releasing me, either. His hands are pressed to my back as if he’s afraid I’ll escape.
I have no idea how long he holds me, but I soften against him. Never before have I melted into a hug like this, the kind of embrace that can chip away at the darkness that’s been swallowing me whole.
He finally pulls back and walks me over to the edge of the bathtub, and I sit. He kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his. I study the glistening in his eyes, and it hurts me to see him this way. It also confuses me why he’d react that way… over me.
“It pains me so much to hear you say those words,” he murmurs softly. “From now on, when you feel this way, when you want to hurt yourself, I want you to hate me. Punch me. Cut me. Whatever you need. Let me be your punching bag, okay? Throw it all at me, and I’ll carry all the weight of this world for you.”
My chin trembles, my chest constricting. I’m suddenly crying heavily into my hands. No one has ever said something like that to me, not even my friends. They were understanding, but even they were grossed out by my arm.
To have an Alpha, the frontman of Fever, say this to me is unexpected, too much.
I don’t deserve it…
He wipes my tears. “Will you promise me that?”
“So…” I blink through the tears, grasping his hand like a lifeline. “So, you still want me around?”
His brow furrows. “Why would you ever think otherwise? Do you have any idea how much light you’ve brought into the band, how much the three of us would miss you?”
A laugh spills past my lips, and I’m surprised I can even do anything other than cry.
“Reed would be happy to see the back of me.”
Seth shakes his head. “You’d be surprised to discover the truth of how he feels for you, even if he has no idea how to show it.”
I nibble on my lower lip, unsure how much I believe that after my few run-ins with Reed.
“The three of us,” Seth continues. “We went through hell growing up to get where we are. We are each scared inside and out.” He huffs. “I went off the rails earlier this year. The band broke up because I drowned my pain with the bottle. So, there is nothing perfect about us. But when I look at you, do you know what I see?”
I wipe away more tears, shaking my head and my chest squeezing.
“A strong Omega who gives sass as good as she gets it, a beautiful soul who’s been shoved into a shitty situation and just wants to be seen. Who wants to be given a chance to shine.”
I furiously blink my tears away as his words hit me like a ton of bricks.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I’m drowning in a whirlwind of emotions… embarrassment mostly, and fear that he’s just saying all these things in the moment.
“Let me clean your arm,” he says, already on his feet and grabbing the fallen towel. He opens the cabinet, and it doesn’t take him long to track down the loose blade hidden in the corner. He tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans.
I’m unsure how I’m supposed to feel, but I’m dazed.
Kneeling back in front of me, he has a tube of antiseptic cream in his grasp as well, and he’s staring at me, waiting.
I hesitate for a heartbeat, but his reassuring smile encourages me to reach over to the fabric of my shirt at my shoulder. Slowly, with a shaky hand, I peel the fabric down, revealing a disfigured mess of scars on my skin. I glance away, my brow furrowing, not wanting to see it, not wanting his disgusted expression.
“You don’t need to do this,” I mumble, quivering because I feel exposed, and I hate it.
When I start to pull the fabric back up my arm, his gentle touch is on mine, stopping me.
“Danica, the scars don’t scare me or turn me off. They are a story of something horrible you’ve experienced, something that one day you’ll share, but until then, it’s okay. It’s not something to repel me.” His fingers faintly trace my arm, the sensation pronounced. No one has touched my arm for years, let alone seen the damage.
Tension grips my insides. I’d like nothing more than to cover up and pretend this never happened.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Seth says as he cleans my cut, then puts antiseptic cream on it, which stings. I don’t make a sound, only clench my teeth. “Besides, you’re not the only special one with scars.” He’s wearing a quirky grin, which makes me smile.
“You look pretty perfect to me.”
Suddenly, he’s on his feet and tugs down the waistband of his jeans over a hip. Of course, having no control, I’m staring at every inch of skin he reveals, my pulse speeding up. There on his hip is a long, red scar that once had stitches. It looks wickedly deep, and I gasp at the sight.
“What happened?” I ask, my gaze fixed on the healed injury.
“I got into a fight when I was heavily drunk once. It was fucking horrible, and I got badly cut by a broken beer bottle.”
“Oh, shit.” I swallow hard. “It looks so deep.”
