Page 9 of Pack’s Pledge
“You seem like a beer girl,” he said, loud over the live band that played in the corner. I recognized the song–it was a cover–but couldn’t quite place it. I was, however,positiveit had come out my junior year of high school, in that way that old songs sometimes hit you.
“Actually,” I grinned, “I prefer a ginger lime spritz.”
“Really?” he said, eyes wide. “I didn’t think– I’ll see what they can make,” he started, a cute frown on his lips. He was so expressive, something I wasn’t used to seeing on an alpha’s features. Usually they just… glowered. Grimaced. Scowled.
Sort of like what Conall was doing. He, too, had a beer, although he wasn’t drinking it. I was surprised the glass hadn’t shattered with how tightly he was holding it. Was he uncomfortable with my presence?
“I’m kidding,” I said. “Beer is fine. What is this, a pale ale?” I took a sip. It tasted amazing. It had been a while since I’d been to a real bar, with real beer.
“A pilsner,” he said, his smile back. “Thought I’d play it safe with a crowd-pleaser. Now, drink that–I mean, if you want to, no pressure–and while you’re drinking, tell me about Conall in high school. He was a huge nerd, right?”
“Well,” I started, unsure.
“Not much to tell,” Conall said, not looking at me. “Britt and I had some classes together.”
“More likeallour classes,” I said. Hewasuncomfortable. Should I leave?
A hand came to rest on my hip, smoothing up to my waist, and then Beau was at my side. He, too, had a beer, and I was a little bit surprised, although I wasn’t sure what I had expected.What, just because he was an omega he’d be drinking a Sex on the Beach or something?
“Are we talking shit about Conall? I bet he was a real nerd back in high school.”
No, I couldn’t leave, not with Beau’s fingers burning my skin through my tee shirt so that every nerve in my body lit up with desire.
“That’s right, he was,” I said, “because we didn’t have all our classes together, did we? I didn’t take computer science.”
“And that’s why you’re a bartender, and not an executive at a successful start-up,” Conall said.
I blinked, the pounding of my heart louder even than the live band.
“Sorry,” I said. “Sorry, I–” I wasn’t sure what I was sorry about. Sorry I had shown up after a decade and was shoving myself into his carefully crafted life? Sorry for being a bartender, and not a CEO or a model or even an influencer?
Sorry for not being an omega?
“What the fuck, Conall,” Beau hissed from beside me. “Here, Britt, give me that.” He took my nearly untouched beer and put it on a table then took my hand. “I’msorry,” he said, wrapping his arm tighter around my waist again and pulling me out onto the dance floor, away from Conall and Adrian. “He’s not usually such an asshole.”
“Alphas,” I forced myself to shrug, hoping that Beau would nod along and drop the subject. Instead, he frowned.
“Not mine,” he said.
“Sorry,” I mumbled again; I couldn’t seem to say the right thing.
It didn’t matter, though, as Beau started to dance, spinning me around with one hand over our heads until I was tucked up into him, my ass nearly touching his crotch, closer than I would have dared left to my own devices. I wasn’t used to a man treating me like this–confident, but without any of the posturing of an alpha, or even a beta. Touchy, but not pushy. His hands gripped my hips, keeping me close to him, but I knew that if I pulled away, he’d let me go. I pushed Conall into the little corner of my mind he’d occupied for the past ten years, and let myself relax into Beau, into the music.
The song changed, the guitar player hitting the first few chords of a familiar hip hop intro, and I leaned back against his firm chest, twisting my head to compliment the band, the venue.
I found myself staring directly at his mouth.
His tongue peeked out, wetting his lower lip, the barest hint of teeth biting into it, and my stomach nearly dropped out of my body.
The inches from his mouth to his eyes felt like a marathon for my gaze to travel, but I managed it eventually.
It only meant that I was staring right at him when he tugged my hips in closer to his, and I felt the hard rod of his cock against my ass. His lips curved upwards–and fuck, that meant I was staring at his mouth again, didn’t it–and then he slid one hand from my hip, to the underside of my chin, tilted up my head, and leaned down into me.
It was the easiest thing in the world, to kiss Beau.
He tasted like sweet mint as I opened my mouth under his soft lips, his tongue finding mine, tangling with it. The fingers of his other hand toyed with the hem of my teeshirt, and it was almost a relief to feel them land against my bare skin, just above the waistband of my jeans, not moving with any purpose, just touching me. I could feel him everywhere: my waist, my jaw, where his other hand still steadied my head under his passionate kiss, but also my nipples, stiff against my practical cotton bra. The base of my spine, my very center, which longed to swallow up the thick shaft pressed to my lower back, grinding into me.
I sighed into his mouth, and felt him smile against my lips before spinning me to face him. He slotted one leg between my own, and pulled me even closer, so that I had to look up at him. My breasts pushed against his chest, and my clit throbbed.Fuck, I hadn’t felt like this in…