Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Not In Public (Exactly)

It takes an instant for him to unsnap my jeans and lower the zipper. Then he guides my legs down his sides, until I’m standing on tiptoe, my back pressed hard against the tree. Slowly, inch by inch, his rough hands slide my clothes down. His thumb hooks through my panties, dragging them with my jeans. freewebnσvel.cѳm

Down my thighs.

Over my knees.

And he tosses my shoes and clothes off to the side.

I’d protest, but I’m too busy staring somewhere indecent to give a shit. Memories of our first encounter are fresh in my mind, playing on repeat.

Yes. I want more of that.

He steps forward, hands against my hips as he leans forward to press a gentle peck against my lips.

I glare at him, trying to summon some semblance of indignation and failing miserably. "You know exactly what you’re doing."

His lips barely brush against mine as he speaks. "I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart. Care to enlighten me?"

The teasing lilt in his voice is maddening. I want to wipe that smug look off his face, but I’m caught between the desire to kiss him senseless and beg him to fuck me against this random-ass tree and the urge to knee him in the groin.

Before I can decide, Logan’s hand slides up my side, his touch feather-light yet searing. I inhale sharply as his fingers graze the underside of my breast, my body arching into his touch of its own accord.

"Logan," I warn, but it comes out more like a plea.

He hums against my skin, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. "Yes, Nicole?"

I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled moan as his thigh presses between my legs, forcing me to part them further. The friction is delicious, and I can’t help but roll my hips against him, seeking more. Rough denim scratches against the most vulnerable part of me, and it’s a delicious torment.

Logan’s breath hitches, and for a moment, I think I’ve gained the upper hand. But then he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they meet mine.

"Tell me what you want, Nicole," he says, his voice low and husky.

"To... go to the Fernsby Mansion?"

That’s not what I want. I’m fully invested in what’s going on here. But two can play the teasing game.

"Wrong answer," he mutters. "I should spank you."

My brows fly high. "Is that what you’re into?"

"Only when you’re naughty." His hands disappear from my body, leaving me cold and aching as I arch toward him. But then I see what he’s doing, unbuttoning his jeans as I watch.

Touching my top lip with my tongue, I don’t avert my gaze as his cock springs into view.

"Until my pheromones stop dumping, right?"

His growl tears my eyes from the length of him. Right. Our so-called contract.

I nod.

He steps closer, trailing the head of his cock along my belly, beneath the hem of my shirt. Warm against my skin, with the faintest hint of cold where his precum beads.

Teasing. Taunting. Driving me out of my goddamn mind.

"Tomorrow-Nicole can go to Fernsby. But tonight-Nicole has a contract to fulfill, doesn’t she?" His voice is thick with desire, and it sends another jolt of heat straight to my core.

When he looks at me, there’s something dark and primal in his eyes. It’s the same look he gave me in the bar that night, and it makes me want to do dirty things. Very dirty things.

Yes, yes, yes, the pherofucked part of my mind chants.

Bite me.

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