Page 52 of Bad Girl

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“Agreed,” James said. “Now let’s get these omegas home before their bloody frenzy infects us and we destroy all our plans with one of the many orgy scenarios playing out in my mind.”

We all responded in a series of groans but got to our feet.

“Kiss your mate goodbye, omega,” Len said, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Tristan’s eyes lit up at that pressure, at my presence. He kissed me so tenderly, so sweetly, my heart began to ache again and continued after he’d pulled away. Len stared at me as he drew Tris closer, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he promised. “Keep your phone close tonight when you go to bed.” Tris looked up at him with a frown. “You too.”

“Let’s mak

e all conversations and chats a group one, yes?” James said, his voice crisp. “To avoid all misunderstandings.”

“Of course,” Len replied, then grinned wickedly before steering Tris out the door.

Quiet settled over the room after I heard the garden gate shut, then the muffled roar of Len’s car pulling away, leaving just James and me in his studio. My heart beat faster as he moved close, then closer in small measured steps. This was what it was like to be an omega, especially one from my family—I stood there, silent and quiet, and waited to see what he would do. Rather than push his advantage, grab my hand, and thrust it against the hard bulge in his jeans, he did something else altogether. He took my wrists between his fingers and rubbed his thumb across the sensitive skin there, where the veins were closest to the surface, watching my mouth fall open and listening to the little gasp there come, before he spoke.

“Today didn’t quite go the way I expected it to.”

I went to reply, to provide an excuse, to argue with him, but James charged on.

“I can’t bring myself to regret that at all, Miss Greyson.”

My attention narrowed down so severely, my head spun, just focussing on his voice and the stroke of his thumbs.

“I had it all planned, the way I would take control of this situation, take control over the two of you. I admit, I thought way too long on that and enjoyed planning things way too much to stop. But you decimated them all in a few moments.” His breath, it felt like it washed over me. “I can’t seem to find it in myself to regret that.”

His hands swept up, moving to cup my elbows and then using them to draw me forward, my body boneless as a doll in his grip. With an alpha, this could be a tedious thing, a means to abuse us, or it could be like this—a timeless moment of surrender, where I gifted him with my compliance and he treasured that for what it was.

“But you play a dangerous game, Miss Greyson, because the inimitable Len did sum things up nicely. We do want to protect, provide, possess, but there’s also praise.” A hand went under my chin, tipping it up until I was forced to stare him in the eyes, and suddenly, that was all I wanted. “Telling you both how beautiful you are, together and alone, using bad poetry to describe the way you look as you come apart in our arms. And then there’s power.”

One hand jerked free, going to my lip and caressing the bottom one. His smile, when mine parted, was luminous.

“Any alpha who tells you that they don’t enjoy controlling their omegas is a liar, Kit, so be prepared for that. Talk it over with your Tristan, make sure you’re both on board, because the two of you? To be the one to orchestrate the joining of the two of you, the way you touch, who will push you to wring greater and greater pleasures from each other? I find myself wanting that very, very much, so consider that before accepting any more offers from me.”

“Will it be good for us?” I asked, little more than a whisper.

“My preference is for blissful, I admit,” he replied in a coolly teasing tone.

“Will you hurt us?”

“Only in ways you beg me to.” His hand stroked my cheek. “Pain can be an inextricable part of beauty, but I don’t enjoy it for its own sake. Having one of you over my knee, swatting your perfectly formed arse, while the other sucks down your cries, knowing they’re next?” His smile was slow and full of dark promise. “That could be quite lovely, if you were amenable. Discuss it with your Tristan. Perhaps some more visits to Abaddon would be wise, to work out exactly what it is you want.” His hand pulled away, then took mine in his. “I admit, I am keen to be a part of that discovery. Now, let’s get you home before your family fears you’ve been stolen away.”

They wouldn’t care, I thought as we walked out of the studio, into the pretty garden, and out to his gleaming black car. He drove me home, and I was right. Dad was on the doorstep moments after we arrived, shaking hands with James and inviting him inside.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to pass,” he replied. “The morning was a stimulating one, and being in your daughter’s presence makes my muse positively feral. I need to spend some hours in the studio, trying to record her beauty on the page while knowing I’ll fail.”

“Well, that can be solved by a more thorough acquaintance surely, Chadwick?” Dad said, going for avuncular and just sounding fucking desperate. I shot a look up at him through my lashes, willing him silently to shut the fuck up. I could get him exactly what he needed if he just left it to me, but that wasn’t what alphas did.

“I couldn’t agree more. I’d like to escort Kit to the gallery opening at the Knightsbridge Gallery in the city tonight. The artist is a friend of mine, and as it’s part of the official social calendar for the year, it would be an excellent place to declare the warming of relations between the Greyson and Chadwick families.”

Apparently, I was going to be using the group chat to announce what we were up to as soon as I got upstairs.

“Of course! Kit is obviously a dedicated connoisseur of the fine arts. She helped select some of our more modern pieces.”

Dad was about to launch into a conversation about art, a topic he knew little about, when I turned to James with a warning look in my eye.

“Well, I’ll need a nap if I’m to be up tonight. Thank you, James, for breakfast. It was lovely. Please tell your friend I think their café is a gorgeous place for brunch.”

“Of course.” His eyes danced as he took my hand, placing a kiss on the palm before pulling away. “Until tonight.”

And with that, I turned and scurried inside, making sure at least that I wasn’t the excuse for—nor witness to—the bloody horrendous attempts my father made to push us together. As my heels clicked across the floor, I got to the staircase, thinking I would be able to run upstairs, out from under my dad’s eye.


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy