And for the first time in five years, we are all on the same page.
CHAPTER FORTY
Sedona
I wakeup to the scent of pine, leather, and musk. It’s a wall of Alpha pheromones, thick enough to taste.
I open my eyes. The room is dim. The curtains are drawn tight, blocking out the most of the light.
I’m naked. A thin sheet is draped over my hips, sticking to the sweat on my skin. My body feels like it has been wrung out.
My muscles ache. My core feels hollow, yet full at the same time.
I shift, and the sheet slides down. I look around.
They’re all there.
Seth is sitting on the edge of the bed, his back against the headboard. He’s reading a book, his glasses perched on his nose.
He looks calm, but his leg is bouncing.
Tex is on the floor, leaning against the wall. He’s sharpening a knife with a whetstone, and the scraping sound is rhythmic. Soothing.
Billy’s in the chair by the window. He’s staring at me, his blue-gray eyes intense. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
I swallow. My throat is parched.
“What time is it?” I croak.
Seth looks up from his book. “Four in the afternoon.”
“Tuesday?”
“No. Wednesday.”
I groan, pressing a hand to my forehead. My skin feels cool and clammy; the fever has broken for now.
“I feel like I’m dying,” I whisper.
Tex stops sharpening the knife and looks at me. “You were running a fever. It spiked at one-oh-four last night. We’ve been doing what Maggie said—cold patches, ice baths, hydration.”
“We couldn’t get it down for a while,” Seth adds, setting his book aside. “We were worried.”
Billy stands and walks to the side of the bed, scanning my face. “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re horny, and that you can barely think right now.”
My breath hitches. He’s right. The fire is banked, but the embers are still glowing, and the emptiness in my belly is already starting to ache again.
“But you need to tell us what you need,” Billy says. “We can’t guess. We’re not mind readers, and we’re not going to do anything you don’t want.”
I look at him, then at Seth, then at Tex. They’re waiting, patient and hard. I can smell their arousal filling the room, mixing with the scent of my own slick, but they’re holding back for me.
“I need...” I start, trailing off as shame flushes through me and heat rises in my cheeks.
“Tell us,” Tex says. He moves closer, kneels by the bed, and takes my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles.
“I need you,” I whisper. “All of you. It hurts when you’re not... when you’re not inside.”
The fire starts in my belly—not a slow burn this time, but an explosion. One second, I’m lying there, coherent and talking, and the next, a cramp hits me, doubling me over.
