Why was that so disappointing?
She may have touched me, but at the end of the day… I’d forced her to bond me. Begged her. She’d probably get sick of me eventually, and even though my heart would shatter it was still better than going back with my brother.
Rolling out of bed I used the toiletries she’d gotten me, brushing my teeth and splashing cold water on my face. I chose the nice clothes, maybe because I was feeling a little petty and wanted to show myself off in something a little more revealing than a t-shirt and sweats. The leggings were form-fitting and comfortable, and the top was low cut and emerald green, barely big enough to fit my boobs.
I was almost done brushing my hair when I heard a shout from the living room.
I rushed out to find Leighton hauling Dash out of her office with a grip on the back of his neck. He was shirtless, exposing a muscular torso and legitimate six pack abs, and wearing only a pair of boxer briefs with a prominent erection tenting them.
My throat was so dry I had to swallow four times to get the saliva flowing again. I was going to blame the bruises for that.
Definitely.
They did feel worse today, admittedly. Tilting my head in any direction hurt. I’d need to ice them soon.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
They both looked at me. Dash whistled again, strolling across the living room and blatantly disregarding Leighton’s warning growl. He didn’t stop until his erection was almost poking my stomach, my eyes about level with his collarbone.
“Leighton didn’t like that I slept on the pullout couch,” he said with a smirk. “She told me to sleep on the leather couch in the living room, but why would I listen? I got to drown myself in the scent of you and your slick all fucking night.”
“You’re a disgusting man,” Leighton muttered. “All you did was sleep on dirty sheets.”
“They weren’t dirty before,” he said, switching to a whisper and leaning in close to my ear. “But they sure as hell are now.”
I shivered and Leighton stormed into the office to see if he was bluffing or telling the truth. I couldn’t tell. Leighton’s tell was obvious, but Dash… His mind worked different. Figuring him out was going to be harder.
“Go grab your knife, little omega. I think Leighton is about to come out and punch me in the face.”
My hand went down to my thigh, patting the place I usually kept my knife. There was no comforting hardness there and blood drained from my cheeks as I rushed back to the bedroom, grabbing Nyla from the bathroom vanity with a sigh of relief.
I held her as I went back out to the living room, finding Leighton with her shoulder pinning Dash to the wall and one hand gripping his cock.
Not nicely. She was squeezing.
Through the wince in Dash’s expression, it looked like he liked it.
“Don’t you ever disrespect my house or my omega again,” she hissed before letting him go.
I glanced down to his boxer briefs without thinking. He was still hard. That hadn’t changed since the second I saw him.
“Did he actually…?” I averted my gaze and spoke to Leighton as she walked up to me.
“We’re not going to talk about what he did or didn’t do to your sheets.”
But I want to know.Sneaking a glance toward the office, I decided I would have to go in there later to find out. Stealth might be my specialty, so I was pretty sure I could do it.
“I went out and got you something,” Leighton said.
She placed her hand on my back and led me into the kitchen, where a couple pieces of faux leather and elastic laid on the counter. She daintily lifted one up, revealing a leather sheath attached to a belt, sized for my hips. Another one was elastic and smaller, more thigh sized. The third was black leather for the sheath with elastic that formed a harness for my chest.
I grabbed the waist one and placed Nyla carefully down on the counter as I fastened it around my hips. The style was kind of old-timey, like this was created as a prop for western movies. Surprisingly, it wasn’t bulky though. It wouldn’t fit under the outfit I was wearing, but a normal t-shirt would probably hide it unless someone patted me down.
Sliding Nyla into the holster, she fit perfectly. I pet the soft leather and ran my thumb over the hilt as a smile grew on my face.
“Thank you,” I said, grinning up at her.
She quickly glanced away, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes, well, I wasn’t going to let you keep cutting yourself by sticking that knife anywhere and everywhere.”
