Page 73 of The Boss Omega
I raise my brow. “What’s that?”
He stands, hand out to help me up. “I have a feeling that I’m going to embarrass both of us soon if we stay here another second. I need to get you somewhere private so I can show you just how much I love you, too.”
Heat hits me low and fast, sharp enough that I forget what I was going to say. My thighs press together instinctively, slick already gathering.
Graham’s gaze drops, then snaps back to mine. “Beautiful,” he groans, pulling me from my chair. “We are not going to make it home if you keep doing that.”
I bite my lower lip and look up through my lashes. “You have an office near here, don’t you, professor?”
He blinks once. Twice. Then a smile spreads across his handsome face. “Oh, yeah. You need to see my office.”
Silas
Three days. That’s how long it’s been since I announced that each of us would start taking Lark on proper dates. Three days of watching Graham come down the stairs from the third floor like a man who won the damn lottery. Three days of grinding my teeth and putting in more hours in the workshop than I have in months.
A full week since the afternoon I walked into the house and heard the sounds coming from her nest. My jaw tightens at the memory.
A week is more than long enough. Which is why tonight is mine.
I lean back against the kitchen counter, arms folded. Waiting. For Lark.
I’ve spent the last few days paying even closer attention to her than usual. I notice everything, not just the obvious stuff. Her scent, the way she laughs, the way she curls into whichever alpha happens to be closest when she’s tired.
The other things. The way she lifts in the pack gym. Strong, controlled movements. Clean form. No hesitation when the weight gets heavy. Most omegas prefer lighter workouts, but Lark loads plates onto the bar like she’s got something to prove.
She doesn’t. She’s already proven it. She’s athletic. Fit. Strong as hell. It’s hard to tear my eyes away.
And watching her is how I ended up deciding on tonight’s plan. We’re not going somewhere fancy. Not some overpriced restaurant where we sit across a table pretending we’re strangers. That wouldn’t be Lark.
She grew up in a wealthy pack. Wealthier than mine, from what I’ve pieced together. But she’s never once acted like it. She’s practical. Grounded. A lot like me. Which is why tonight we’re going somewhere simple. Fun. Somewhere she can move.
Footsteps on the stairs pull my attention up just in time to see her appear at the bottom.
My little bird. She’s wearing jeans that hug her ass, cut to emphasize the strength in her thighs, the curve of her hips, the long line of her legs. On top she’s wearing a soft long-sleeved tee that dips just enough in the front to hint at the swell of her breasts.
Nothing flashy. Nothing dramatic. Just Lark.
My jaw locks automatically, muscles tightening as my alpha immediately wakes up and takes notice.
Mine.
The thought hits fast. Instinctive. It slides through my mind before I can stop it. I push it back where it belongs. Not mine. Not yet, anyway. Not until I can pull Saint’s head out of his ass. Only then.
I’m working on it.
Lark pauses halfway across the kitchen when she notices how intensely I’m watching her. “Is this okay?” she asks, glancing down at herself. “You said casual.”
“You look great.” I straighten off the counter, forcing my expression back into something resembling calm.
Her mouth curves a little at that, but her eyes stay on me. Curious. Smart girl.
I reach into my pocket. “I’ve got something for you.”
Her brows lift. “A courting gift?”
“Yeah.”
I pull out the small box and hold it out to her. For a second she just looks at it, then she takes it carefully into her hand. She opens it. Inside sits a pair of small gold earrings shaped like birds. Their wings are outstretched, the metal shaped in simple, clean lines. Nothing flashy. Just Lark.
