Knot A Trace: Part One

Eventually, my tears subside, and I pull away from River. I’m embarrassed at the mess of tears I left on his shirt.

But the cry felt good. It was a release I’ve needed for weeks. The sorrow of losing April has been eating me alive, and the lack of sleep and food has left both my mind and body drained.

I clear my throat to break the silence and look away from River. “Um, I should get to bed. There’s food in the kitchen and a bathroom down the hall. Eat whatever you want. Goodnight.”

He frowns and looks like he wants to say something, but I push past him before he can and make a beeline to my room. I shut and lock the door behind myself, then collapse on my bed.

Everything in me screams to go back out to him. He may be good at reading people, but working in customer service long enough has helped me figure out personality traits as well.

He’s stubborn, guarded, and probably touch starved, like me. I showed him my vulnerability, and instead of being an adult about it, I ran into my room and locked the door.

What did I think he was going to do? Follow me in here?

I can practically see April rolling her eyes at me.

I make my way to the bathroom connected to my room, wincing as I limp onto the cold tile.

And when I slide my underwear down my thighs, I grimace.

The slick pad I wore is drenched. Thankfully, I wore shapewear underneath as well to add extra support, but I still shouldn’t have been that wet from simple interactions with Alphas.

Just to be safe, I take my suppressant dose before I forget, swallowing the pill down dry.

Then I do my best to wash both Landon’s and River’s scents off me. I scrub, lather, rinse, and repeat, using my raspberry scented body wash.

But the slick doesn’t stop, continuing to dribble down my thighs in rivulets.

I pray that River can’t smell me and that my suppressants are working as they should.

My mating gland itches and I pat it gently, but squirm at the sensation.

It’s overly sensitive.

My Heats have been less and less frequent since Jason, but all the signs are there that one is coming soon.

How inconvenient.

I close my eyes, inhale the steam, and almost lose my balance. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if I didn’t catch myself—would River have run in here and seen my naked body drenched in water and slick?

Don’t think about it!

I force myself to hurry up and rinse, then slowly step out of the shower. I wrap myself in a plush towel and lean against the counter, exhausted. I do my best to brush my teeth, then slump against the tile.

Maybe I shouldn’t go to work tomorrow. I’m not sure how long I can last on my feet.

But I definitely don’t want to stay home, alone with my thoughts.

I collapse onto my bed, groaning as my body sinks into the specialty mattress made for Omegas.

It was the best investment I’ve ever made, even though Jason had scoffed at the price tag.

He certainly didn’t complain when he slept over or when I was in Heat.

The bastard.

I have a sudden mental image of River and Landon kicking the shit out of him and chuckle stupidly at my imagination.

All I want to do is rest, and the way the specialty material caresses my back, it makes it almost impossible to get back up.

But I need my phone, which is still in my purse in River’s car.

Which means I have to face him after running away like a child.

With a groan, I roll out of bed and dress quickly in loose cotton pants and an oversized grey shirt. Taking a deep breath, I unlock my bedroom door and walk out into the hallway, ready to make an apology.

But a soft, deep rumbling comes from the front room, and when I turn the corner, my eyes widen.

River is asleep, sprawled out on my couch.

He’s snoring.

He’s so tall his legs hang over the end of the couch, his black sneakers suspended in the air.

With his head against the cream pillow, he looks peaceful. His leather jacket is draped over the back of the couch and his black shirt has ridden up, exposing a bit of his pale torso.

He looks hot.

I stare at him for a concerning amount of time, my mouth open, taking in the sight. His cell phone sits on his lap, and one hand is behind his head, as if he was propping himself up.

He didn’t intend to fall asleep, that much is obvious.

I decide not to wake him up. Based on the dark circles and bloodshot eyes, he needs sleep.

And I’d rather not face him after our awkward moment earlier.

I spot my purse on the kitchen counter and sigh in relief. I fish through it, find my phone, then head back into my room.

A quick call to Devyn and a few reassurances later, I have a plan in place for tomorrow.

Devyn will pick me up for my closing shift. And by then, River will be gone, and I’ll never have to speak to him or Landon again.

But my phone buzzes, and there’s a message from a number I don’t recognize.

Hey, Skylar, it’s Landon. Checking in to make sure you got home safe. Be sure to rest.

I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face or the butterflies in my stomach. I type my response quickly.

Thank you, I’m on it. When are you picking up River and bringing my car back? I’m fine on my own. It feels weird to have him babysitting me.

Also, the longer River is here, the more I’ll want him to stay. I shift my thighs uncomfortably as I watch the text bubbles on my phone pop up, then stop.

No response.

I stop waiting for a reply and set the alarm on my phone. I’m exhausted and I don’t have the mental energy to deal with this anymore.

As I stand to shut my door, I hear River’s soft snoring again.

I can’t imagine he’s that comfortable contorted on my couch without even a blanket on him.

Before I can second-guess myself, I make my way to the closet. I stare at the top shelf for a good minute, looking at my folded and unused nesting blankets.

I haven’t brought them out in more than a year. They’re luxurious, comfortable, and the softest material I’ve ever felt.

I would argue that they’re the best freaking blankets on the planet.

I don’t have a throw on the couch. There are only the two pillows, and they’re not that comfortable.

Just do it. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

I pull my favorite lilac colored blanket from the shelf and gather it in my hands. Before I lose my courage, I pad back into the front room to face River’s sleeping form.

He hasn’t moved. His eyes are closed, his breathing is deep and even, and he looks peaceful. Even his scent is muted—there’s not as much spice. It’s gentle, and almost as welcoming as Landon’s.

It has to mean something that someone so guarded can sleep like that around someone else.

It doesn’t matter. He probably never sleeps, and this is his only opportunity. You’re not special.

I gently drape the lilac fabric over him, keeping my eyes on his face. His dark stubble complements his strong features, and his hair has fallen halfway into his eyes. His lips twitch as the blanket covers him.

He looks much less intimidating as he sleeps under my blanket.

I don’t linger long, though. I need to sleep, and my body aches with need. If he opens his eyes and sees me staring at him, he’ll think I’ve lost my mind.

But before I head to bed, I do something foolish.

I carefully pull his leather jacket off the top of the couch and hold it to my chest. Turning away quickly, I hurry back to bed, clutching my treasure tightly.

I can’t believe what I’ve done.

What if he wakes up right now, and sees that I’ve snatched his jacket like some needy, desperate Omega?

I should give it back immediately.

But as I sit on the edge of the bed, hugging the leather material, I can’t bring myself to do it.

It smells like River.

Like the hug we shared an hour ago, like the feeling of his arms wrapped around my waist as I cried quietly into his chest.

It smells like Alpha.

I whimper, burying my face in the jacket, and inhale deeply.

Two things happen at once.

My body becomes a live wire, with all the energy focusing directly on my cunt.

Second, an absolute mess forms between my legs.

My Omega awakens with a roar, ready for attention and tired of being put on the backburner.

The concussion must have drained the last bit of my self restraint, because I turn feral.

I fall back against my mattress with a thud and wrap myself in my bed sheets, gently thrusting against the air, desperate for friction.

My nipples pebble with need, and I rub River’s jacket down my chest, the roughness of the leather against my sensitive skin making me hiss.

His scent swirls around me, and before I can second guess it, I’m shoving the sleeve of his jacket in my mouth like an animal and sucking on the leather.

Somewhere, rational Skylar dies of shame.

But she’s a mere memory now, and as the taste of River’s scent floods my mouth, I imagine it’s his cock.

I groan at the thought, and my free hand that’s not caressing the jacket travels under the covers and under the waistband of my cotton pants. My cunt is soaked, and it takes less than a few rough circles on my clit before I’m clenching my teeth down on the sleeve of River’s jacket and screaming.

I haven’t had an orgasm in months, and this one makes my hips arch and my entire body tremble.

It’s incredible. I feel myself squirting, soaking my pants and making a mess on my bed.

Thankfully, the mattress topper is made of a special material that’s extra absorbent for slick, and is much easier to clean than a normal mattress.

The pleasure lasts for at least half a minute, and by the time I’m done, River’s jacket sleeve is soaked in my spit and bite marks are embedded in the rich leather.

Catching my breath, I realize what I’ve done. Post orgasm clarity hits me, dulling some of the ache in my head, and horror consumes me.

I have to give River’s jacket back. He can never know what just occurred.

But I need to rest. I’m still catching my breath, and my limbs are heavy.

Just five minutes of rest. I’ll set an alarm, I think to myself.

I close my eyes before I can grab my phone, though.

Exhausted, I drift off to sleep before I have the chance to clean up or return the detective’s jacket.