I acted without thinking and grabbed some girl’s beer right out of her hand.
“Hey!” She hollered but I had disappeared into the crowd before she even saw me. I drank down a deep swallow, then took in another mouthful and swished it around like it was mouthwash. I spat my backwash into the cup and tossed it into another drum-barrel trash can. From the back pocket of my jeans I took out a little container of breath strips and snapped it open. Only two left. I put both on my tongue and like cling wrap they immediately floated to the roof of my mouth where they stuck like glue as they dissolved. I breathed in. I breathed out.
Better.
I shook out my hands and shoulders, and tried to give myself to the music, the concert-going experience, and let the music take me while I meditated on the scent. I did my best to relax, and grasp that sweet lemony aroma. My brow furrowed as I tried to pinpoint the location. But the lemon was drifting off to the left. And the sugar to the right.
What was going on?
A combustion of light drowned the darkness behind my eyelids as the stage exploded in a conflagration of pyrotechnics. I opened my eyes and searched through the screaming crowd. The smell of smoke and flame clouded up everything and the excitement all around me made new scents and auras burst like fireworks. Lemons were fading and Caramelized Sugar was lost. My throat was parched and my chest ached. I felt so alone.
Fuck it. It was just a missed connection. Maybe I wasn’t meant to meet my scent match. At least, not tonight. Maybe never.
The thought made me wince, and pain lanced through my heart, planting anger. There was only one place where you could dislodge anger at a concert.
I prowled through the crowd and marched, heavy-booted, to the mosh pit.
Mosh pits are like black holes, like under tow. They pull you into their being, surround you, and you have to play withfriendly fire to keep yourself afloat. I willfully sank into the thrashing bodies of the mosh pit, flailing and tossing my head, stomping my feet. Pushing my limits and being pushed. I could smell sweat, and hot breath, weed, slick, yearning.
Lemons.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to the shores of the pit. His thighs were at my rear, one leg between mine so I was sitting almost straddling it. A hole in my jeans let my naked skin brush against his denim. The scent of lemons overpowered everything else, almost like it was a sound, drowning out everything around me. I took a deep breath in, and fresh, sweet, tangy, ice-cold strawberry-lemonade slid across my tongue and to the back of my throat. I purred and leaned into his chest. His jacket, leather and denim, was like a cushion between us. The patches scratched pleasantly against my shoulder blade, the studs poked into my tender flesh. Even through all that, I felt the rumble in his chest as he echoed my purr.
He found me.
I was panting now.
He leaned over me, his lips at my ear. “I’m Raine,” was all he said.
“Caira,” I answered, but I doubt he heard me over the clamor all around us.
“Are you alright?” Even as he asked, his hands started roaming, exploring my body, and I knew he wasn’t checking for injuries. His palm ran across my stomach. His thumb and pointer finger slid under my tank top and grazed the bottom of my bra.
“Did anyone hurt you?” His teeth captured the cuff in the cartilage of my ear.
I looked down at his arms, at the tattoos peeking out from the sleeves of his jacket.
“No,” I rocked my hips against the zipper of his jeans. “Nothing happened. I’m alright.”
“Good.” He… Raine… cupped my left breast with his right hand. He slid into my bra and cradled it gently, like it was a precious, fragile thing. “Because if anyone hurt my omega, I would kill them.”
His thumb circled my nipple, making it hard. I trembled.
“Especially now that I had just finally found her.”
I turned my head and yearned for him to kiss me. All I could smell was his Summertime scent of strawberry-lemonade and cold. Fresh. It felt youthful, like he exuded a life-sustaining elixir. I wanted a taste, a little sip of his forever.
“You found me,” I said, putting my thoughts into words. “I’m yours.”
I pressed into his crotch with more urgency. I wanted him. Now. Here. There were hundreds of people all around us that could just forget about the band and stare at our little show. I didn’t give any of them a second thought.
The song changed, the intro toSmells Like Destinyplowed through the theatre, barreling through the fans like a stampede. Raine pressed his hand low on my belly, holding me close.
“This is my favourite song,” he said. “Dance with me.”
I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. His hair was over-grown but not too-long. Shaggy. Messy. I wondered what color. He had seen me but I had yet to see him.
We moved together. He grew a little more respectful and hugged me around my middle, protective and possessive. My alpha wanted to possess me.
