Page 12 of Lilacs and Leather
Her blush darkens to a cherry red, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.I wonder what color she’d turn if I tell her I want to bite that lip, too.
“Right, um, so for your packmate, do you have any specific flowers in mind?” She looks back down at the paper and then glances up at me through her lashes.
Holy shit.I want her to look at me that way as she has my cock deep in her throat, my—
“Lilacs,” I say without thinking.
Her blush turns darker still, spreading over her chest. Her scent is coming through stronger, that fresh rain scent moving forward over the scent-blocker, bringing honey and vanilla behind it.
“I-I have to see if we have any,” she says faintly.
“I can wait,” I murmur, my voice going husky.
She swallows, and I glance at her throat and see her pulse hammering. So, she isn’t unaffected. My eyes flick up to meet her gaze as she straightens her spine. I catch her eyes trailing up and down my body, and I growl my approval low in my throat at her inspection. She jumps at the noise, and her eyes come back to mine. Her pupils are blown wide, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
“Right,” she rasps after another moment.
I chuckle slightly as she turns to go into the back room. My gaze travels down her incredible curvy body, hoping to admire the view, but my eyes snag on her shoulder. And a bucket of ice comes crashing down over me.
Peeking out from under her tank top, I can see an angry red scar on the back of her left shoulder. About two inches wide, the oval shape is unmistakable. Teeth.
As that hopeful bubble deflates, I feel my brow pull down and I frown, puzzled. It doesn’t look like a normal bond mark, with its silvery scar tissue covering a careful crescent shaped mark. It almost looks like someone ripped a chunk out of her flesh and didn’t look after it. What kind of alpha would leave their bond mark unhealed? And why can’t I scent them on her? Is that why she’s using scent blockers?
My thoughts are interrupted as the omega comes back to the counter.
“We don’t have any lilacs in stock, as it’s a little early in the season. But if this isn’t time sensitive, I can put in a call to our supplier and have them delivered,” she states, looking more put together now.
“That’s okay, love. I don’t need them right away. When would you get them in?” I ask, clearing my throat.
I need to back off until I have more information. She may have a mate, even if she smells like heaven.
“I could have an arrangement put together for pickup on Saturday. Would that work for you?” the omega says, looking at a calendar book.
I’ll take any excuse to come back.“That works,” I reply with a smile.
“I’ll put that order in for you, Mr.…” she trails off, looking at me again.
“Cooper. Rhett Cooper. And I didn’t catch your name.”
She smiles slightly, tilting her head to the side.Is she exposing her neck on purpose, or…?
“Lydia Anderson,” she says, blushing again.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Lydia. I’ll see you again on Saturday, then.”
“It’s a date,” she says with a laugh.
If only, little Lydia. If. Fucking. Only.
Six
Rhett
I park in my place in the packhouse’s garage, still smiling.I hadn’t stopped since I left Grandmother Wila’s and something in me was telling me I would keep smiling for a while yet.
Lydia Anderson.
The little flower has a name. A voice. Light, girlish, but deceptively sexy. She was sin wrapped in innocence, and I wanted to peel apart that shell to unleash the temptress lurking below.