Page 175 of My Unhinged Alphas
His brows lift slightly. “Is that a complaint?”
“It’s an observation.”
“And what would you prefer?”
I let my gaze drag over him on purpose, slow enough that his grin finally changes shape.
“Less talking,” I say.
Havoc leans forward, elbows on his knees now. “Careful.”
Knox looks from him to me and says, very flatly, “Absolutely not.”
I ignore that too.
I shift closer to Vale instead. Not a lot. Just enough to feel him go still beside me.
Havoc notices immediately. “Oh, that’s dirty.”
I turn toward Vale like I haven’t heard him at all.
Vale’s good eye narrows slightly. “Lena.”
The warning in my name only makes me want to do it more.
I put a hand on his chest. Feel the warmth of him through his shirt. The steady rise and fall of his breathing, which is no longer as steady as it was ten seconds ago.
“What?” I ask softly.
“You know what.”
I smile a little. “Apparently that’s going around.”
Havoc laughs under his breath. “I like this version of you.”
“Shocking,” Knox says.
I don’t look away from Vale. He’s watching me now with that tired, careful focus of his, like he knows exactly what game I’m starting and has already decided it’s a bad idea. That doesn’t stop him from putting his hand on my waist when I lean in.
That’s the thing. For all his self-control, for all his warnings and silences and guilt, he always touches me back.
So I kiss him.
Slowly first. Not because I’m unsure. Because I know Havoc is watching and I want him to see it. I kiss Vale like I have all the time in the world, like I’m not doing anything except enjoying the shape of his mouth and the way he exhales when I part my lips against his. Then I deepen it by degrees, until Vale’s hand tightens at my waist and his head tips back against the wall.
Havoc goes very quiet.
Good.
I pull back just enough to glance at him. He’s still smiling, but there’s something hungrier there.
“There,” I say softly. “That’s better.”
He laughs once, low and rough. “You little menace.”
I kiss Vale again. This time harder. Less teasing. His fingers slide into my hair and I feel the exact moment he gives up pretending he’s above any of this. That’s what I like about kissing him. He always tastes like restraint right before it breaks.
I climb into his lap carefully because of his ribs, settling my weight where it won’t hurt him more than necessary. He makes a small sound against my mouth, one part protest, two parts wanting.
