Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Delirium

He’s growling, a deep sound that should freeze the very blood in my veins, but only makes me want to curl up in his lap and rub my cheek all over that broad, sexy chest of his.

Damn. I’m not an expert on fated mate connections, but shouldn’t this shit be over between us? I felt a distinct ending during the rejection.

"Are you okay?"

The way he snaps the question ruins the cuddle up like a kitten and be taken care of instincts stirring deep in my pheromone-addled brain, and I look down at myself, only then seeing the deep gashes in my thighs.

Isn’t there some sort of major artery in there somewhere?

I’m lucky to be alive.

"Just peachy, thanks."

The sarcasm trips off my tongue without intention, and his frustrated snarl makes me want to giggle out of sheer hysteria as I slowly melt to the ground into a puddle of dazed Nicole jello.

"There’s a cat on my car."

"What the hell did this to you?" he snaps, ignoring my words. "Why are you in the street?"

"Seemed like fun at the time," I quip, an inappropriate laugh tickling behind my breastbone.

Logan’s face hovers above mine, all chiseled jawline and piercing eyes. It’s appalling how handsome he is. Pointlessly, infuriatingly gorgeous.

"Your face is stupid," I mutter, my words slurring slightly.

His brows draw together, creating little creases I want to smooth away with my fingertips. "What?"

"Nothing." I wave a hand dismissively, nearly smacking myself in the face in the process.

Logan’s large hands move over me, gentle yet efficient. He’s checking for injuries, I realize belatedly. His touch sends tingles across my skin, and I’m not sure if it’s from pain or... something else.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. "This might hurt."

My body and brain have disconnected from the local wi-fi. I blink up at him. "Doesn’t hurt at all," I say dreamily.

He smells so nice. I’m surrounded in whatever pheromone-dumping is happening right now; without thinking, I lean forward, chasing the scent. Gone is the angry alpha smell from before. Now it’s all soothing warmth, like a cozy blanket on a winter night. With hot chocolate. And marshmallows.

You have to have the teeny-tiny marshmallows. They’re the best part.

I breathe deep, inhaling more of that intoxicating aroma. It’s making my head spin in the most delightful way.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks, his voice a mix of confusion and concern.

I look up at him, my vision slightly blurry. "You smell nice," I say, my filter completely gone. "It’s not fair. You need to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Being... you." I wave my hand vaguely in his direction. "All... alpha-y and smelling good. It’s not right. You’re a grade A asshole, you know that? Even worse than Scott Dickhead."

"Mhmm." I nod sagely, then immediately regret it as the world tilts alarmingly. "My ex. The cheater. But you..." I poke him in the chest, my finger bouncing off solid muscle. Mm. Nice. Maybe I should just splay my hands and... oh, yeah. That’s firm. Very nice. "You’re worse."

I try to push myself up, but my arms are overcooked noodles. Spaghetti sounds good. Maybe I should have spaghetti for dinner. But not meatballs. Spearing a meatball makes me think of driving the oh shit feature into an eyeball. Nope. Don’t want that.

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