“Okay. I’m right behind you then.”
“Great. I don’t live far.”
All the way to his house, she considered just turning around and going back to her apartment. What was she doing? Just because he was a cop didn’t mean it was safe to go back to his house with him. He was still an Alpha, after all. Her mind lectured her all the way there, even continuing up to the point where she pulled up beside him at his house. The garage door slid open and he pulled inside, while she parked out on the outer drive.
As he climbed out of his car, her libido took over and told her brain to fuck off. She was doing this. Hopefully, she’d soon be doing him.CHAPTER TWORyan
Ryan was surprised that things were going this way so quickly. I mean, with most women, it was a given that he could get them into his bed with minimal effort. Lucy seemed different though. She wasn’t your typical Omega. In fact, he’d have to describe her as being deeply opposed to being a part of the Omega status quo. There was something about her that he was so drawn to, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps it was just that she seemed to be driven by something more than a desire to mate and have kids.
Still, he told himself not to let things go too far—to pace himself. They’d just have a few laughs and a few drinks and he’d let her have the bed while he slept on the sofa so she didn’t drive home under the influence or he’d call her a cab if she preferred. Instead, he found her intoxicating.
“How did you get this scar?” she asked, tracing her finger down his neck flirtatiously as they sat on the sofa watching a movie and drinking a bottle of wine he’d forgotten his neighbors had given him as a house warming present when he moved here three years ago.
Her touch made him ache, but he pushed it aside.
“A girl gave it to me.”
“A girl?”
“Yes, when I was nine years old.”
“Why?”
“Because I told her that boys were stronger than girls. So, she shifted and gave me something to remember her by. Well, she did more than that. She kicked my ass,” he laughed.
“Who was she? A neighbor? Kid at school?”
“My sister.”
Lucy laughed and continued to trace her own nail lightly along the long, thin scar that always reminded him of his sister, Jen. Of course, he could hardly associate her with the sensations Lucy was creating there now.
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Only her. I had a brother, but he died several years before that.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her heart melting laughter fading away into a melancholy tone.
“It’s okay. He had some problems. I can remember a lot about him but can hardly recall his face.”
“And Jen? Where is she?”
“Oh, she’s alive and as feisty as ever. She is married to the Alpha of our pack, so I don’t get to see her very much.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m a bit of an outcast. Let’s just say that not everything they do in my pack is legit and cops aren’t all that welcome. I hardly see any of my family, but we aren’t on bad terms. We’re just . . . different.”
“Yeah. I can relate to that,” she mused, then added, “here’s to strained family relations.”
Ryan tapped his glass to hers as she held it up. It was an obvious attempt to change the subject and he let her get by with it. Not everyone was comfortable talking about their family. He’d gotten used to it over the past eighteen years, having left the pack straight out of high school to attend police training and join the force.
“So, how long have you been here?” he asked.
“About three and a half years. I’m in my final year of art school.”
“What kind of art are you interested in?”
“I do some painting at home, but I’m not very good at it - the freehand stuff, that is. I prefer digital media. I’m focusing on graphic design.”
“Sounds like the way to go with social media and all being such a massive thing, advertising and stuff too.”
“I hope so. Right now, my expenses are mostly covered by my scholarship and grants, but I’ll need to get a job pretty quickly once I graduate or I’ll be eating canned peas from the food bank.”
“I doubt that there has ever been a wolf shifter reduced to eating from a food bank when they can just go out in the woods and hunt.”
“True enough, but you know what I mean. I can’t pay my rent in rabbit pelts.”
“You could with the right landlord.”
“My landlord is a vegan and a veterinarian. It was her Mom’s house. She won’t even come into my neighborhood. If anything goes wrong, she sends her handyman. She said she tried to sell it and couldn’t, so she decided to rent it - cheap.”