Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(90)

Well, that cleared my head. I snorted and headed for the door. "Gross."

"Wait," Ghost said, following me. "I meant what I said. You shouldn't be wandering around here alone. Never know when one of the others might appear. I'll walk you back."

And in spite of the way he'd cornered me earlier, Ghost was gentlemanly as we walked back through the bar together, remaining at my side but with space between us. There was no sign of the rest of the club, aside from some growling snores behind closed doors, but Ghost was quiet and watchful company.

I drew to a stop in front of Chance's bedroom door. He'd stopped by the nest briefly while Bear was still teasing me, and then left again and not come back. I wasn't sure if the bondmark would be a sore subject for him or if he'd just wanted to offer us our space, but I'd find out now. Ghost stared at the blank door with an open longing. An idea bubbled up and I hoped I wasn't making a mistake.

"Hey. Give me your scent mark," I said softly, nudging Ghost's hip with mine.

I had a mug in each hand but I held them aloft, standing straight and arching my head to the side, offering the opposite side of my throat from where Chance's kissing bruises were.

Ghost's eyes bounced between mine and my throat, and he licked his lips twice. "Are you sure?"

"No, but—"

He didn't let me change my mind, ducking down. I stiffened as his dense beard and soft cheek rubbed against my throat. His hair tickled my nose, rich with that spicy scent, something playful and bubbly under the surface. His nose stroked over my pulse, and I sucked in a breath as his lips grazed over my throat.

"You're pushing it," I whispered.

And then his tongue was flat and hot against my skin. My knees wobbled and my legs threatened to fold as he lapped one long stripe up the side of my neck. My cunt throbbed its immediate approval of the mark. I pressed my lips flat, refusing to make a sound, but my eyelashes fluttered closed as a shiver of pleasure ran through me.

Sneaky bastard.

My eyes opened again to find Ghost staring down at me, smile soft, green eyes gleaming.

"You're messy," I said.

He laughed and nodded. "Yeah. Well, I've watched you come, and you're not so tidy yourself."

My cheeks blazed, and then Ghost reached out and turned the knob of Chance's door for me before stepping back. His eyes flicked to glimpse inside the room and then he was retreating, licking his lips again.

I pushed open Chance's door with my shoulder, bracing myself. Instinct had led me right so far, and it seemed in favor of Ghost, but I hoped that didn't backfire. I debated cleaning up a little in the bathroom, but Chance's bedsheets rustled as I entered, and he sat up in a direct ray of sunlight, all pale and exquisite.

"Birdy? Where's Bear?"

"Sleeping. Missed you last night."

Chance smiled, squinting at me, looking young and rumpled and soft. "Wanted to give you a little space, but I missed the nest too. You sneakin’ around making coffee in the morning again?"

I nodded, and Chance grinned and patted the bed. I walked forward, holding my breath as if it meant that if I didn't smell the evidence of Ghost, Chance might not be able to either. But his face changed as I sat down, all that peaceful morning ease tightening into a slight frown as he leaned in.

"Ghost came in while I was there. It's okay. I'm okay, we talked," I said quickly.

"You talked as he rubbed himself all over you?" Chance spat.

"He's kind of obsessed with you," I said.

Chance's jaw flexed, teeth gritting briefly. "Doesn't smell like it's me he's obsessed with."

I set the coffee down on Chance's bedside table and tentatively scooted closer. I braced myself for him to pull away, but instead Chance snatched me up and dragged me closer, twisting and pressing me into the bed, arching over me, burying his face into the marks he'd left. I moaned as he bit, gentle now, careful with the bruise.

"Sorry," Chance whispered in my throat. "You're okay?"

"Don't be sorry," I said, reaching up to smooth my palms over his shoulders. "I'm okay. I think… I mean, don't you think we kind of owed him a conversation after what happened the other night?"

Chance groaned, but his arms tightened around my waist. His skin was warm from the bed and I mapped it greedily.

"We literally never bothered with much conversation," Chance mumbled into my skin. "He didn't deserve to watch you."

"Watch us," I corrected.

Chance lifted his face finally, glancing briefly at the other side of my neck before meeting my gaze. "What did he say?"

"That he wanted you," I said, and then decided to admit the rest. "And me." Chance scowled, and I slid my hands up his back and to his face. "Told him he didn't deserve you. But I think he might…attempt to try."

Chance was silent, staring back at me for a long time, still as a statue.

"Would you want that?" I asked, my voice small.

He hauled in a breath and then grimaced, reminded of Ghost's mark. "Birdy, you and I…we talked. I'm yours, you're mine. I will keep that mark on your throat every day until—"

I surged up, pressing my mouth to his, swallowing the protest, kissing him until he was kissing me back, until the tension bled out of him.