Reese (Pack of Misfits #2) - Raven Kennedy Page 0,28

shit,” I hear someone say, but I don’t really hear them.

Instead, all of my attention snaps onto him. Like a heat-seeking missile going for its red-blooded target, I zero right in on Lug Nut.

Target engaged.

Nostrils flaring, my blown-out eyes latch onto him, looking like I’m a druggy in a Black Friday stampede, trying to get a flat screen half off.

I raise a finger and point. “You.”

Lug Nut’s black eyebrows arch up in surprise and confusion. “Me?”

I don’t know what happens next. I really don’t.

One second, I’m standing here, half my weight leaning on Addie, and the next, I’m launching forward like I’m a friggen ballerina leaping through my nutcracker routine. For someone who hasn’t had a human body for awhile, I catch some serious air.

I probably would’ve knocked right into him with my less than steady landing if it weren’t for the fact that he backs up before I can make it there. I land hard on my hands and the balls of my feet, glad for the gym’s padded mats, but I’m already springing up before the sting in my palms can even register. My rat is egging me on, spinning around with her tail in the air like she just don’t care.

“Reese. Try to push through what you’re feeling and pull back on your control,” Alpha Hugo says, but his voice doesn’t even register.

Standing in front of Lug Nut, I lean forward and inhale like a junkie doing a line. I can’t help it. That scent. His scent. It’s intoxicating. I feel high. Am I high?

“You’re not high,” Addie says behind me.

Shit, I said that out loud?

“‘Should we take her out?”

“Give her a minute.”

I look down and see that my hands are trembling. The enforcers have closed in around me, like they think I’m about to attack and they’re waiting for the order from Hugo to take me down.

The thrumming in my chest intensifies. I press a finger against one of my canines, wincing as saliva immediately coats my mouth. My rat squeals, her head bobbing, and I suddenly know what I have to do to make myself feel better.

My eyes lock onto Lug Nut. “I need to bite you!” I blurt desperately.

The still-aware part of my mind is horrified because, umm, what?

Lug Nut blanches.

I lunge for him again, teeth bared, aiming right for his corded neck. But his hand comes down and lands on my face, halting me before my teeth can latch onto him. My cheeks and lips mash against his palm in what’s probably a very unattractive smooshing.

I try to bat his arm away, but he simply curls his fingers into my cheeks, keeping his arm locked straight as he holds me at bay—by my friggen face—while I try to gnaw on him like a bone.

So. Mortifying.

What is happening?

My rat just chomps her bucked teeth like, get to biting, bitch!

Oh, God, she’s right. I need to bite him so bad. “Just one little bite!” I plead.

Another whine escapes me, my mouth watering so much I’m afraid I’m about to drool on him, and that’s when I get really irritated. For cheese shit’s sake, I already pissed on this dude earlier. I cannot drool on him too. I have to draw the line somewhere.

Side note, I notice that the palm currently smashed against my face isn’t the same one that I peed on. Even when I’m trying to chomp on him like a maniac, he’s holding me off with his clean hand. Such a good dude.

“Uhh...Alpha?” one of the enforcers says warily.

“Clear out,” I hear Hugo reply.

“She’s being aggressive, do you want us to...”

“I’m not aggressive!” I argue. “He’s being selfish! It’s just one little bite!” I yell at Lug Nut.

My voice seems high-pitched. Is my voice high-pitched?

“It’s a little high-pitched,” Addie answers me.

Goddammit, I said that out loud again.

“Why do I want to bite you so bad?” I whine against Lug Nut’s palm, even as I try to lick and nibble his skin. Mmm. Salty.

“You don’t, Mousey,” he replies gently, which is wrong, because, yeah, I really do. “Just try to calm down. Try to control it.”

Control it? There is no controlling it—whatever it is.

My hands, I realize, are clamped on his outstretched arm, and I’m sort of just petting his arm hair. Like...meticulously stroking it all in one direction. I don’t even know why, except it just feels like something I should do as I keep trying to chomp on his palm. Unfortunately, there’s not enough give there for me to get any of