I’d grown used to the occasional slice when I moved wrong and the blade caught my skin, but I was glad it was no longer a worry. Especially since I had all new clothes.
“Where did you go that was open so early?”
“The best place in New Oxford to get leather and faux leather products.”
Dash snorted, coming into the kitchen and stealing a sausage from a pan on the stove. “Pointe Couture, yeah? Is that where you met Ambrose? He’s a frequent customer.”
Leighton smacked his hand when he tried to take another sausage, turning the heat on for another burner. “You’re like a goddamn child. Ambrose and I met at The Pointe Lounge. We were looking for similar things, so the matchmaking service paired us without realizing the conflict.”
Dash still wasn’t clothed, retreating to the other side of the kitchen to lean against the fridge. His eyes sparkled with interest, and I got the sense Leighton had just revealed something he hadn’t known.
Personally, I had no idea what was going on. The Pointe Lounge didn’t sound like a place that would have a matchmaking service, at least not from the name alone.
“I know what Ambrose’s interests are, sweetheart, and they don’t involve being dommed by put together female alphas.”
Leighton didn’t respond, cracking an egg into the pan she’d placed on the burner.
He refused to leave it alone, poking and prodding in hopes of getting a reaction out of her. “Are you his little doll, then? I thought you were just fucking like normal, but if you met at the club…”
Her head rolled side to side, and she didn’t look over her shoulder.
“Does Ambrose fu—”
I stepped in front of him and placed a hand over his mouth. He froze. “Don’t talk to her like that,” I said.
Ambrose did call her his doll, and he had fucked her like he owned her, but that wasn’t Dash’s business. I’d gathered that the lounge was some kind of… sex club, or something. I didn’t have a complete understanding and didn’t want one. The reminder of Leighton and Ambrose’s sexual relationship being shoved in my face was altogether unpleasant.
His tongue flicked out and licked my palm, but I didn’t pull it back. I kept it over his mouth until I got some kind of acknowledgment that he wasn’t going to start talking again the second I removed it.
He didn’t give me anything, but his tongue made a circle on my palm and then he reached up to gently grab my wrist. I was held in place as his tongue trailed from my palm up my fingers, and I gasped when he sucked two fingers into his mouth. He curled his tongue around the digits, showing me what he could do with it—they were the kind of moves that made slick pool in my core, because I wanted his tongue to lap it up.
“That’s enough,” Leighton said.
She banded her arm around my torso and pulled me away from him. Dash let me go with a smirk and my arm dropped to my side, those fingers wet with spit.
“What do you not understand about this being my omega?” she demanded. “Mine. If I wanted to share, I would be in a fucking pack, Dash. Keep your hands off her.”
“So touchy. She put her hand there, and those cute fingers are begging to be sucked on.”
There was nothing cute about my fingers. Fingers couldn’t be cute. It wasn’t even possible.
“It’s probably been long enough that Ambrose can come back and you can leave,” Leighton said. “Why don’t you call him?”
She brought me with her to the stove, brushing her chin across my shoulder in a clear scent mark before planting a kiss on my cheek. “How do you like eggs?”
“They’re fine,” I said faintly.
There was the occasional cramp in my stomach that I was doing my absolute best to ignore, but maybe the food would help. Or maybe an orgasm would, after the tease Dash had just put me through. Or both.
Both sounded good.
SEVENTEEN
DASH
This was dangerous. Being in this condo was bringing up every single one of my red flags, but I couldn’t leave.
Not when I could fucking tell that Kiara wanted me, and there was a part of Leighton that wanted me too. I was obsessed with getting them to admit it. I wouldn’t leave until they did.
