fuzzy-headed.
When he took her, he wanted her eyes wide open, her thoughts crystal clear, without a doubt in her mind who was fucking her.
His cock went stiff as a board at the thought. At least he'd gotten off an hour ago—maybe that would ease the ache somewhat. Aric had waited all night to experience the new girl for himself. He could wait a little longer.
He pulled a chair over to the foot of his bed and sat down. Leaning back, he propped his feet up on the footboard and settled in to wait.
The anticipation was only going to make this sweeter.
"Good morning."
Jocelyn had been slowly coming out of heavy sleep, burrowed into the covers to block out the light, when the deep, low voice invaded.
She gave a half-hearted attempt to lift her head from the soft pillow, but the effort was just too much. Surely there was no harm in lingering just a little longer in this incredibly comfortable bed, drifting lazily between sleep and wakefulness.
Though the voice was right—it was a good morning. A very good one.
The sun that bathed the canvas behind Jocelyn's closed eyelids with brilliant red and orange was also gently warming her face.
But even better was what she didn't feel. By some incredible stroke of luck, the rocket fuel she'd drunk last night hadn't left her with the hangover she deserved: her mouth wasn't dry, her head wasn't pounding, and her stomach felt just fine.
But then an unwelcome thought came nipping at the heels of the pleasant feeling of reprieve. A night that left no pain in its wake wasn't quite the same as one that left no regrets behind.
And as Jocelyn’s consciousness—and the memory of the last twenty-four hours—returned, the regrets started pouring in.
What the hell had she been thinking? She'd made one terrible decision after the next, and the fact that she'd meant well was worth about as much as the paper John's clients' invoices were printed on.
Jocelyn had stolen evidence from a mob killer and money to disappear. Thrown in her lot with prostitutes. Found herself in the Boundarylands, with nowhere to hide but the house of an omega stranger.
And worst of all, she'd paid back the single offer of help she'd received since this disaster began by drinking the stranger's booze and passing out in her bed.
This wasn't like Jocelyn at all. She usually went out of her way to do the right thing, avoided trouble at all costs, and responded to kind gestures with handwritten thank-you notes.
She needed to get up now, find that nice omega, and apologize to her and her alpha.
The thought made Jocelyn’s heart pound. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, terrified to face the omega's alpha, especially from the vulnerable vantage point of his bed. After what she'd seen of his kind last night, there was no way a creature like that wasn't going to be pissed.
She was lucky he hadn't already ripped off the covers, grabbed her by the arm, and tossed her out the door.
"Time to rise and shine." This time the voice landed like a hammer.
Jocelyn's eyes popped open and she scrabbled to the headboard, wrapping her arms around herself protectively and preparing to apologize as fervently and long as necessary.
But the apology died on her lips when she saw who was standing at the foot of the bed. No—not standing, sitting at the foot of the bed.
Oh crap. Even seated he was taller than most men.
"You," she gasped.
The alpha smiled slowly, but there wasn't a trace of humor in his familiar polished-agate eyes. The man from last night was staring down at her with a predatory focus.
"Don't bother pretending to be surprised."
Pretending? What the hell was he talking about? "What are you doing here?"
Jocelyn grabbed her bag and clutched it to her chest, grateful that she'd brought it to bed with her, even if it offered little protection against someone as big as this alpha.
"Funny." The intensity in the alpha's gaze deepened. "I had exactly the same question when I came home last night and found you in my bed."
His bed?
"You're the omega's alpha, aren't you?" Jocelyn demanded, desperately hoping the woman who'd invited Jocelyn into her home wasn't cursed with a lecherous, whore-hunting asshole for a mate.
The alpha's expression turned puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"Your omega. The one that invited me here. She said I could spend the night here while I…" Jocelyn trailed off mid-sentence, seeing no reason to bring up the series of events that had brought