Grayson obeys instantly, wrapping his slicked hand around his cock and jerking in time with the rhythm.
“Gonna come, Finnie. Gonna come all over you—fuck—I’m gonna ride that knot, ride it—”
Finn’s hips snap up once, twice, his claws sink into Grayson’s hips, and then his knot pops inside, and Grayson screams.
And that’s what does it. Not the tight heat. Not even the pulsing of Grayson’s hole around the base of his knot.
It’s the sight of Grayson—hisgorgeous Grayson—coming apart for everyone to see. Riding him like he was made totake it. Screaming like he wants the whole stadium to hear.
Finn’s orgasm hits like a fist to the spine.
His vision goes black at the edges. His cock throbs deep inside, filling Grayson with thick pulses of come, knot lodged tight. He groans, desperate and spent, breath knocked out of him.
Rihanna’s voice cuts out, and the room is silent except for their breath and that of his pack following them over into ecstasy.
Grayson falls forward onto his chest. Finn can’t form words yet, so he hums something soothing and satisfied under his breath.
He finally looks at his mates, discovering they’re in various states of dishabille. Each man with a hand on a wet cock, either his own or his mate’s.
When Finn checks the television over the catering table, the Braves are up 5–4 with the last batter for the Tempest up in the top of the ninth.
He finds he has no interest in the last part of the game, instead closing his eyes as Grayson sucks a mark into the side of his neck.
“Best birthday ever.”
“Yeah?” Grayson murmurs, wiggling a little and sending shivers down Finn’s legs to his toes. “Do you think we made the Love Cam?”
Finn’s belly swoops at the thought. Conflicted between the idea that 28,500 fans saw his “O” face and the idea that they had the privilege of seeing his gorgeous mate come.
“We would have heard about it by now, yeah?” Luca climbs off Rowan’s lap, his knees wobbling enough that the bigger man has to hold him steady until he can keep his feet.
“Can you teach me to do that, Gray? It was so good. That tumble bit was…whoa.” He approaches and runs a soothing hand down the alpha’s spine, then through Finn’s hair.
“I liked the shirt bit,” Leo chuckles, Grayson’s shirt still wrapped around his softening erection.
“It was perfect, Pretty.” Jay grins, standing so he can crack his back.
Nodding, Gideon stands too, buttoning Jay’s shirt and sticking his hands inside his alpha’s pants under the guise of tucking it in. “I will be thinkingabout that for a long time, but I think Finnie forgot something.”
Finn’s brain goes back over the whole thing—from the first notes of piano to the last drop in bass.
“Thank you,” he whispers, in case it’s that he hadn’t said the words.
“No, dumbass. You need to tip your dancer.”
Oh.He wouldn’t want to offend his mate by insinuating his gift was anything but that—a gift.
Grayson giggles. “Who actually carries cash anymore?”
“Well, I just so happen to havecomeprepared.”
No way.
Gideon pulls a sheaf of money from his wallet, waving the bills like a fan before tossing them like confetti, laughing like the maniac he so often is.
Rowan whoops as Leo hits the music, and then the two of them begin a bump and grind.
A single dollar bill lands on the edge of Finn’s chair.
