Ayla: Always an Alpha

Chapter 21 - Giant Blinking Sign

~Killian~

Leaning back on her elbows, Ayla peered at me from her bed. The gap in the middle of her spread legs reminded me of where I'd been just seconds before. Waking up in a room filled with her scent had stirred the mate pull and put us into dangerous waters. In spite of this and even in her position, Ayla seemed unperturbed, cool as a cucumber even, as if she hadn't just been moaning my name into my ear. Of course, if she didn't appear confident and in control of the situation, she wouldn't be Ayla. That's why the way she had been the previous night had disturbed me so much.

To give myself some mental space to think, I had to look away from her and shut off all my senses. Instead of beating myself up for getting into this situation in the first place, my brain immediately sought the best way to do damage control.

I should not have come into the main house, and even after disregarding the massive mistake I had just initiated, I certainly shouldn't have stayed until morning. However, what was done was done, and all I could do now was find a way to leave this place in broad daylight without anyone noticing.

I waited for the tent I'd pitched in my pants to collapse before trying to speak. "You're going to need to go grab a fresh set of clothes for me and the scented oil out of the cabin."

"I can do that," Ayla complied, casually, as if I'd just asked her to grab me something from the store. While I could feel her eyes burning a hole into my face, I couldn't maintain any eye contact with her, so whatever she was truly thinking would stay hidden.

She got up and made a move for the door.

"You're um... also going to need to shower first." I could smell myself all over her. Unless she scrubbed it off, she'd be a giant blinking sign stating "just spent time with the man trying to kill me" to anyone she passed on her way.

"Really? I don't think you slobbered on me all that much. People probably won't even notice." She made a point to loudly sniff her hair.

The sparkle in her eyes gave her words away as teasing, so I ignored her and instead circled the room to carefully close all the blinds.

After realizing she wasn't going to get a response from me, she wandered into the en suite bathroom and shut the door. The sound of the shower starting had me sighing in relief. This could've been a lot worse. I could've marked her, or someone traipsing around the house this morning could've caught my scent. Even after I left, this entire room would need to be cleaned before anyone else could step foot into it.

I tried not to pay her too much attention when she exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel. As she readied herself to leave, I instead focused on aspects of her room. The room was warm, filled with dark woods, forest greens, and warm cream accents. Not monochromatic but far from ostentatious, the palette fit her personality well. A row of cameras lined a bookshelf near a window; I wondered if they were just for decoration, or if she ever used them.

When Ayla opened the door to her fairly large walk-in closet, curiosity got the better of me. I raised an eyebrow as she, without any hesitation, selected a short heel from a shelf full of the useless shoe, grabbed a tight-looking pencil skirt from a hanger, and pulled a maroon sweater from a large, completely full drawer.

"I can feel your judgment, and I do not appreciate it," she declared before disappearing into the bathroom again.

"You can look just as classy in more practical shoes," I called out, ensuring I still kept the volume of my voice low.

The door to the bathroom opened, and heels clicking, she paraded out. "This isn't about looks." A piece of wet hair, towel dried but wet all the same, fell into her face, and she forced it back into place behind her ear with a huff. "This is about respect. I have meetings today, and unlike men - even in our world - I can't show up in a v-neck and sweatpants and still be taken seriously."

Fire blazed in her eyes, daring me to challenge her words.

"Also," she added, winking. "I quite like all my heels. Especially when they annoy you so much."

With that, she left, giving me a mocking wave over her shoulder as she shut the door firmly behind her.

Knowing I'd need to wash my own scent, any sweat and oil buildup over the past night, off me as best I could, I headed into her shower, figuring she wouldn't mind. I tried to pick the most generic soap option in there, one that smelled the least like her, not because I was worried someone would pick up on the scent - it'd probably do me some good to smell like Ayla, actually - but because I didn't want anything she used lingering on me for my own sake.

My actions began to weigh heavily on me the longer I stood under the spray. I shouldn't have fed our connection like I had. The more gas I added to the fire, the longer it would take the awoken bond to fizzle after I left. Although we hadn't established an emotional connection, the mate pull, a sort of electromagnetic activity between the two of us, would be hard to forget, and making that task even harder wasn't fair to Ayla. It didn't matter how much I found myself attracted to her. I didn't matter, not when she was obviously the more important one of the two of us.

I was dry by the time Ayla returned. When she passed over the oil, I was careful to not let my fingers accidentally graze hers before heading back into the restroom, popping the top off, and making quick work of rubbing it into all my pulse points and around all my sweat glands.

She wrinkled her nose when I exited. "Geez, I don't remember it smelling that strong."

"It wears off after it has time to absorb into my skin."

"Well, time is something you're going to have a lot of. The sun has made an appearance, and every Tom, Dick, and Harry has decided to roam around downstairs and outside. Might as well make yourself comfortable."

I held back a curse. Staying inside the pack house was not a good option, but leaving the pack house sounded like a much worse option. Not only did my actions last night put us in a tricky situation, but I now would waste the day inside instead of spying on the warriors.

~~~

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Question of the week: Do you have a signature perfume? Or have you been told you have your own smell?

A long time ago, a friend told me my house smells like jolly ranchers, and I still haven't quite figured out if that's a good thing.