by D. J. Heart
“Are you hungry? There’s takeout in the fridge,” Merchant says, standing up. He walks toward the kitchen, his gait graceful and smooth like a predator, and looks over his shoulder and nods his head for Logan to follow. Logan ambles after him, feeling like a clumsy duckling.
“Have you heard anything from Chad or Peter?” he asks, needing to distract himself from the sight of Merchant’s ass. It’s muscular and round, and Logan can’t tear his eyes away.
“Not yet,” Merchant says, having no idea that Logan is practically drooling. “Did you have a good rest? I was going to wake you up, but you looked like you needed the sleep. I hope you don’t mind.” Merchant opens the fridge and pulls out two cartons of Chinese takeout, putting them in the microwave before turning toward Logan.
He moves his eyes up, but he’s pretty sure he’s too late if Merchant’s little laugh is anything to go by.
“I don’t mind. I guess I was pretty tired,” Logan says, looking away and hoping that Merchant will take pity on him. Merchant stares at him and says nothing, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. There’s a tiny smile playing over his mouth, and it’s making Logan feel incredibly flustered. He looks away, but when his eyes dart back to Merchant the alpha is still staring and giving him that look.
“What?” he asks, pretty sure he knows what the look is about, but having no idea what to do with it.
The alpha grins wide, baring his teeth and licking his lips. Logan’s heart skips a beat at the sight of Merchant’s pink tongue.
“Nothing,” Merchant says, smiling wider. The microwave pings, jerking them both out of whatever thing had just been going on. Merchant uncrosses his arms and stands up straight, moving back toward the living room. When he walks past Logan, their arms brush and Logan’s breath hitches. Merchant laughs, low and pleased, and Logan’s stomach flutters like he’s swallowed a herd of butterflies.
“Your food is ready. Plates are in the cupboard over the cutting board,” Merchant says, leaving the room. Logan can feel the blush on his cheeks like a pressure in his skull, and he hopes he didn’t just make as much of a fool of himself as he thinks he did.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
Giving himself a little shake, Logan heads over to the microwave to retrieve his dinner. Grabbing a plate from the cupboard, he wonders if he’s always been this susceptible to alphas or if it’s a new thing. He can’t remember ever wanting one this bad.
Then again, he’s never interacted with alphas much before meeting Chad—at least not on friendly terms. He’s honestly starting to worry. Betas are supposed to want other betas. Alphas are the providence of omegas and alpha sluts, and Logan has no desire to be saddled with the latter label.
Taking his plate and grabbing a water from the fridge, he decides to push any attraction he might feel toward Merchant—or any other alpha—to the back of his mind. Steeling himself, hoping that Merchant will keep his sexy smolder and weird looks to himself, he heads out into the living room. Merchant has seated himself all the way on the end of the couch, rather than sprawling in the middle like he had been when Logan first woke up, and Logan is relieved. He sits down on the other end, a respectable distance between them, and balances his plate on his lap.
He forgot cutlery.
“Forgot your fork?” Merchant asks, grinning and standing up. “Hold on, I’ll get you one.”
He’s gone before Logan has time to object that he can get it himself. When Merchant comes back, fork in hand, he stops next to the couch and hands it to Logan. He’s pressed right up to the edge of the couch, and if Logan were to turn his head his nose would be inches away from the alpha’s crotch.
“Thanks,” he stutters out, resolutely looking at the TV. There’s a football game on, though Logan has no idea who’s playing. Merchant keeps looking down at him, eyes smoldering.
“No problem,” Merchant says, lingering a few seconds before stepping away and taking a seat. Logan breathes out a sigh of relief—or is it disappointment?—when he takes the place on the other end of the couch.
Unable to help himself, Logan imagines what it would be like if Merchant had sat down right next to him. What it would feel like to be pressed up against that solid body, Merchant’s muscular arm resting behind his neck…
“Are you okay over there?” Merchant’s voice is a pleased rumble, and Logan gasps. When he turns his head, the alpha is studying him with a knowing smirk.
“I’m fine,” he says. He’s thankful for the plate covering his lap, at least until he remembers that Merchant is an alpha, which means he can smell whenever someone is aroused.
The thought is like a bucket of cold water. With what Logan has been feeling, his arousal might as well be a flashing neon sign. Mortified and humiliated, Logan starts shoveling food into his mouth.
At least Merchant hasn’t said anything. Logan frowns when he realizes that Merchant must be used to people reacting to him like this. He probably just expects it, even from a beta.
“Anything wrong?” Merchant asks. The smug, pleased note has left his voice, and he honestly sounds like he wants to know. When Logan realizes that Merchant’s concern might be over the fact that he is no longer aroused, he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
“I’m fine,” he says, the words unconvincing.
“I’m sorry. You’ve had a tough day, and I know I can be a bit…” Merchant trails off, thinking of the right word. “I can be a bit trivializing, and I’m sorry about that. I know today must have been really hard for you, and if you want to be alone or if you need anything… just let me know.”
Logan is touched. Merchant seems painfully uncomfortable to be talking like this, and Logan has no doubt he’s doing his best to be nice. It’s attractive in a different way than his raw masculinity is, though Logan is pretty sure Merchant can’t smell the warm feeling currently spreading in Logan’s chest.
“Thanks,” he says. “But I don’t really need anything. We can just watch TV.”
Merchant nods, leaning back and putting his legs up on the coffee table, paying attention to the screen. Logan can’t help but glance at Merchant’s feet, gulping at the sheer size of them. He forces his eyes away before he can start wondering if the alpha’s other anatomy is proportional to the oversized limbs.
He knows that Merchant can probably scent his arousal, but since the alpha isn’t commenting, Logan is going to follow suit. Who knows? Merchant’s sense of smell might not be as good as Logan thinks it is. He could be worrying for nothing.
Taking a sip of his water, Logan decides to just not think about it. He’s alive, he’s safe—at least for the moment—and he’s eating some of the best Chinese food he’s ever had. He’s not going to ruin the moment by worrying about an alpha. Not even one who looks at him like he wants to eat him up.
***
Merchant usually hates it when other people’s scents invade his apartment, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the delicious bouquet of Logan’s arousal. It comes in waves, rising to the surface only for Logan to viciously clamp down his feelings, but Merchant knows that he’s the cause.
The moment when Logan had caught on that Merchant could smell him had been delicious—at least until Merchant realized that he was really upset.
Humiliation can be fun if done right, but it requires a trust that doesn’t exist between him and Logan, at least not yet. He’ll need to be careful of Logan’s feelings and sensibilities until he knows what will embarrass him and turn him on, versus what will just embarrass him.
Merchant closes his eyes and reprimands himself. He shouldn’t be planning ahead like this. Not until Logan has at least agreed to date him.
“I’m heading to bed,” he says. He’s not tired, but he needs to jerk off again. Logan looks away from the TV and blinks at him, nodding and giving him a closed-mouthed smile.
“Okay. I’m not really tired yet,” he says, pulling his knees up to his chest and curling his arms around th
em. He looks tired and cute, and for a second Merchant wonders if anyone will notice if he simply never lets him leave. Having Logan all to himself forever appeals to the selfish alpha in him.
Logan is lucky Merchant has plenty of self-control and a healthy fear of his boss.
“Go to bed whenever you’re tired. The sound from the TV won’t bother me,” Merchant says. He stands up and stretches a little, grinning when Logan stares at the sliver of skin exposed when his shirt rides up his abs. He lets his arms fall back down to his sides and walks away from the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night,” Logan replies, eyes darting between the TV and Merchant’s body. It’s clear he wants to look, but that he’s fighting it.
Merchant can’t get into his room fast enough. He frees his cock from his tight jeans, groaning as it hardens into its full length, and wraps his hand around the base of his knot, squeezing down hard.
The pleasure is intense, and Merchant has to steady himself on the wall so that his knees don’t buckle. Jerking himself off furiously, pre-cum lubing the way, it takes him just minutes to come. Aiming the spray up onto his stomach, Merchant swallows his grunts of pleasure and milks his cock of every last drop. He imagines Logan on his knees in front of him, licking up over his shaft like a greedy little whore. When his balls are empty, he feels drained and wonderful.
If this is how good the fantasy of Logan is, Merchant can’t wait for the real thing. The scent of his want coupled with the way his body is going to yield… Merchant can hardly contain his anticipation.
Dropping his cock, come dripping down his stomach, Merchant steps out of his pants and pulls off his shirt. He uses it to wipe off his hand and cock before throwing it in the hamper, wrinkling his nose at the lingering scent of come.
Naked, he walks into the master bathroom and brushes his teeth. Crawling into bed, nude and happy, Merchant lays his head to rest on his pillow and falls asleep.
Chapter 7
“Hello,” Logan says, walking into the living room.
He showered after he got out of bed, but he’s wearing the same clothes he was yesterday, with his underwear turned inside out. Merchant is sitting on the couch with a bowl balanced in his left hand, eating what looks like oatmeal. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a tight compression shirt, and his skin glistens with sweat like he’s just finished working out.
“Good morning,” Merchant says, smiling at him and taking a bite of his oatmeal. “There’s food in the kitchen. Help yourself.” He nods his head toward the hall leading to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” Logan says. Merchant is relaxed and languid, his legs spread wide and taking up the middle of the couch, and Logan’s stomach does a weird flip at the sight of the big bulge resting against the alpha’s left thigh. He looks away hastily, ignoring Merchant’s pleased smirk as he practically makes a run for the kitchen.
Fuck. Logan had been hoping that it was the stress yesterday that made him react so strongly—want so strongly—but he’s still lusting over Merchant like an omega in heat.
It’s humiliating.
At least Merchant is attracted to him, too. Or at least Logan thinks he is. Then again, Merchant might just find it funny: the plain little beta lusting after the studly alpha. He’s probably laughing to himself this very minute.
The thought is depressing and Logan’s shoulders slump.
There’s a pan of oatmeal on the stove, and Logan helps himself. It’s not his favorite breakfast food, but he doesn’t mind it. After some hesitation, wondering if he should just eat in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath and walks back into the living room. Logan is many things, but a coward is not one of them.
Merchant has moved to the end of the couch, his empty bowl and feet on the table. Logan can still see the bulge of his cock, and it’s mouthwatering. There’s a morning news show playing on the screen, and Logan tries to pay attention to the hosts and not Merchant as he sits down and starts to eat.
“Sleep well?” Merchant asks. Logan looks to his right and sees that the alpha is staring at him, not even pretending to look at the TV. He swallows and feels his face go hot.
“I did, thanks. The bed was very comfortable.” Logan keeps looking at the TV, hyper-aware of his own body and unable to relax. When he glances out of the corner of his eye, Merchant is grinning at him. “And you?” he asks, wondering what Merchant is thinking.
“Like a baby,” Merchant says. Then his expression suddenly turns serious. “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”
The question is completely out of left field and Logan almost chokes on his oatmeal. He looks at Merchant with wide eyes.
“No,” he says, voice cracking. Is this… is Merchant coming on to him?
“Good.” Merchant’s expression is smug and happy. Logan must look like a tomato with the way he’s blushing. He stares at Merchant, waiting for him to say more, but Merchant just sits there all smug and happy and says nothing.
“Why?” He can’t help but blurt out the question.
Merchant tilts his head and looks at him, like he’s debating with himself what to answer—or like a predator deciding if he wants to pounce. Logan holds his breath and waits.
“We can talk about it once I’m no longer getting paid to keep you safe, okay?” Merchant says after a loaded beat, abruptly tearing his eyes away. His attention is fixed firmly on the TV.
Logan nods, though Merchant doesn’t see it. He feels strangely disappointed. If he’s honest with himself, which he rarely is, there was a part of him that was hoping Merchant would take the question like an invitation. That he would grin, all cocky and smug, and pounce and ravish him until he couldn’t breathe.
It’s silly.
Logan wonders with a start if Merchant is seeing anyone. Betas are almost always monogamous, by nature and cultural conditioning, but alphas have a lot more leeway. If Merchant was fucking a dozen betas all over town, no one would think it was unusual. Logan’s sneaks another peek at Merchant and wonders just what the alpha wants from him.
Logan might be in lust, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to be just another alpha-slut in Merchant’s harem. He has too much dignity for that.
Logan is wrapped up in his own thoughts and isn’t paying attention to the TV at all, but when he hears the name Peter Tank mentioned he snaps to attention. Next to him, Merchant has gone still as well.
“And now an update on the Pritchett Omega Guardianship Scandal,” the female host says, an excited glint in her eye. “We have just received word that Peter Tank, the owner and CEO of Tank Security, officially challenged the head of operations at the center, Geoff Lloyd, last night at approximately nine p.m. It is currently unclear why Peter Tank issued the challenge, but viewers might remember Tank’s recent confrontation with Richard Cruz, owner of The Virgin O omega houses. The following video was taken of Peter Tank leaving the Pritchett Center last night after the challenge. Sensitive viewers might want to look away.”
Logan gasps when the show cuts to the amateur video of Peter leaving the guardianship center. Peter bursts out of the discreet entrance like a raging inferno, covered in blood, the expression on his face viciously satisfied. The video zooms in, and Logan feels queasy at the sight of blood coating Peter’s mouth and chin.
“Fucking tore his throat out. That’s my man!” Merchant boisterously yells, sounding excited and amped-up. Logan jumps in surprise and turns his head, shocked to see an echo of Peter’s vicious smile on Merchant’s face. “You see that, Logan? That’s why you don’t mess with Peter Tank. Shit!”
The TV cuts away from Peter getting into his car and speeding off and back to the two hosts, though Logan doesn’t listen as they discuss what could have motivated Peter to challenge Lloyd. Merchant calms down, still grinning, but the smile dims when he sees Logan’s less-than-pleased expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and Logan has no idea how to answer.
While he was busy drooling over Merchant’s body,
he’d sort of been hoping that the alpha was… different. He’s disappointed that Merchant is reacting like an alpha, and he knows that he’s being stupid. Merchant has never once pretended that he was anything but a full-on alpha. Hell, their first meeting alone should tell Logan everything he needs to know about what kind of man Merchants is. Rough, cocky, and brimming with testosterone. The very traits that have Logan’s balls pulling up tightly are also the ones he’s most wary about.
“Nothing,” he answers when the silence drags on and gets uncomfortable. Merchant doesn’t look like he believes him for a second.
“It’s just… the violence. I don’t like it.”
“Geoff Lloyd tried to kill you. He bombed you. Aren’t you happy he’s dead?” Merchant almost sounds angry. He’s frowning, brows scrunched up like he’s trying to understand where Logan is coming from and failing.
