Page 82 of Heat Lightning

I groaned, scenting the air. “Your next wave hasn’t come yet. We should wait. You need to eat.”

Coyly, he smiled and snatched the blue and orange blanket from the bag. “If you say so, alpha,” he said over his shoulder, batting his eyelashes at me.

That little minx knew exactly what he was doing.

He gasped when I lightly smacked his ass, crowding him toward the kitchen. “I do say so. You’ll need energy for what I have planned for you next.”

“Are you going to feed me, alpha? I’m just an omega in heat, incapable of doing it myself.”

I growled playfully and tickled his sides. “You will be, when I’m done with you.”

His shrieking laughter pulled me into the kitchen, dropping stones onto my chest.

Plink. You have to tell him.

Plink. You have to tell him.

Plink. You have to tell him.

TWENTY-ONE

MAX

Going to bed with someone was a completely foreign experience to me. Not, like, sex. Which obviously I wasn’t very experienced at, either, but Atlas and I were working on that.

Actively. Often.

Atlas. His name sounded so right in my head. I wanted to say it over and over so I could memorize the way the letters moved on my tongue.

Atlas.

Atlas.

Atlas.

By now, I’d said it out loud plenty while we tested the functionality of the nest I built from the blankets he brought me. I was very proud to say it held up under scrutiny, even with the way he’d thrust up into me while I rode his cock so hard the headboard banged against the wall.

But actually lying down in my bed with someone else? To sleep? Brand new.

Adjusting the nest on my side one last time, I slid in. “How are you going to sleep in that thing?” I asked, gesturing to the mask.

He shrugged, mirroring me on the other side of the bed. “You get used to it.”

I wouldn’t. I’d have clawed my face off by now. “Suit yourself.”

Really, I wanted him to take it off. But the request felt like opening a can of worms, and everything was so perfect I didn’t want to mess it up.

He reached over and fiddled with the buttons on my pajama top. “I’ve never seen anyone except you wear actual pajamas to bed, you know. It’s really cute.”

I blushed. “They feel good. They’re cotton. Same with the sheets. I don’t know how people sleep in polyester.” I shuddered.

He snorted. “Come here, my high-maintenance omega.”

I grumbled the whole time he tucked me into his side, but couldn’t help secretly loving being called his.

Then I wondered how we’d actually fall asleep next to each other. I was between waves, and we needed to save our energy, which was a pity. Would we just stare into each other's eyes until peacefully falling asleep?

Maybe he’d whisper sweet nothings into my ear, or tell me his favorite bedtime story?