Sugar Coated

46

Andres Ibarra

I was going to kick Jax's ass, the fucking idiot.

We were tiptoeing a line with Doll, and knotting our horny omega while our other clueless omega was desperate to be knotted wasn't the vibe.

But Jackson, god blessed dense Jackson had no fucking idea what she was and so he was continuing on his crusade to keep her comfortable and to not chase her away.

Doll had fallen back asleep in my arms after that little showing and I'd drifted off after shooting the two idiots a glare that they probably didn't even see because they were too busy rushing to get ready to set up shop. Em was opening this morning so that he could go to class tonight again, which meant I had the day off for my shift.

And I was damn near determined to weasel my cock into that knotring and find my way between Doll's thighs one way or another.

That was the only bright point of this morning, my getting to see the temptation on her little face and feel her whine against my teeth at the very idea of Jax's knot.

Doll had disappeared sometime after Jax and Em had gone down to prep and open the shop respectively, but sometime before Jax had come back up for a nap.

When I'd checked the spare room she'd barely used since coming to stay with us, I found almost everything the same, though the spool of wire was missing from the dresser where I'd spotted it the other day while she'd been out with Rosie.

It was like the fridge, I'd just kept coming back to the room to glance into it and remind myself she was real before I walked off to do something else with my time while we waited for her to come back.

She's probably down with the jukebox. I doubt Jax will realize she's down there before he comes back up.

I was right too, he didn't. I could picture her, huddled in her little spot behind the old thing, gravitating back to the one spot she'd allowed herself to carve out of our pack from the very beginning. I glanced back toward Em's nest. The thieving bastard had nicked a trinket dish from her house when we'd first been there. I'd caught him trying to squirrel it away into his nest the other night. I could understand the base instinct that had driven him, a craving to have a piece of her displayed in his space, to allow it to be her space as well. Hell, even I felt the same instinctual tug more mildly. He took it to an unhinged headspace though.

He'd given me those big wounded hazel eyes when I'd called him on it, telling me he'd make sure she knew, but somehow I doubted that conversation had come up yet. The starfish-shaped dish was still hiding behind an artfully placed book on a shelf though.

Jax stopped when he spotted me blocking the hallway to his room. There was flour dusted across one of his sleeves and along the collar of his shirt like he'd tried to adjust it while he was working. "Andres." His voice was flat but his eyes were calculating as he tried to deduce what it was that I wanted.

"Alpha."

His head cocked a bit at the term, "You only use that term when you want something or when you're going to make me mad, which is it." He took a small step forward.

I didn't retreat, "Both."

He took another step, this one larger. "Go on."

We were nearly the same height, I was taller than him by maybe an inch, but when he stepped so close to me that I felt his radiating warmth, I swear it felt like I had to crane my neck to look at him. "Stop protecting, Delaney and fuck her like you want to."

The spark dropped from his expression. I'd have said he shuttered if I couldn't feel the bond open and pulsing between us, spiked with arousal and more fear than I would have otherwise expected from him.