fox
Thecrackofthebat echoes across the visitor’s field like a gunshot. I’m crouched behind home plate, mask fogged from the heat, every muscle locked as the ball sails deep into right field. Parker is already moving, glove up, eyes tracking the white streak against the evening sky.
She leaps. Her body stretches, flexing as she crashes into the warning track. The ball smacks dead-center into her glove. The opposing fans groan as our dugout explodes with cheers.
Parker lands hard, rolls once, and pops up with the ball held high like a trophy. Game over. We win 5-4.
The team pours onto the field. Jamal reaches her first, scooping her up like she weighs nothing. Theo and two other guys pile in, lifting her onto their shoulders while she laughs, cheeks flushed, ponytail whipping in the wind. Her scent bursts across the diamond so strong I can taste it from twenty feet away.
Mine.
The word hits me hard. I don’t do jealous. Never have. But watching half the team put their hands all over her, throwing her in the air like she belongs to everyone, makes something ugly twist low in my gut.
I’m moving before I can stop myself. A low growl rips out of my chest as I shoulder through the celebration. Jamal catches the sound and immediately sets her down.Smart man.Parker’s feet hit the grass and she turns, eyes wide, but I’m already there. My arm bands around her waist, hauling her tight against my chest.
“Mine,” I mutter against her ear, too quiet for anyone else to hear. My hand settles on her throat, thumb stroking possessively over her scent gland.
She shivers, but she doesn’t pull away. Her scent spikes sweeter, slick blooming just for me. “Fox,” she breathes, half warning, half plea.
Arlo appears at her other side, easy grin in place, hand sliding low on her back. “Easy, big guy,” he murmurs to me. “Still casual, remember?”
I nod once, the muscles in my jaw pulling tight, but I don’t let her go until the team starts heading for the bus. Parker slips away to grab her gear, shooting me a look that says we’ll talk later.
The bus ride back to the hotel is tense. I sit in the back row with Arlo on one side of me and an empty seat on the other. Parker rode with Harlow earlier, the two Omegas laughing in the middle of the bus like nothing had changed. But everything has. It’s been four nights since Coach chewed us out on the field. Four nights of Parker in our bed, sometimes at the apartment, sometimes hotel rooms at away games like this one, getting taken apart slowly and thoroughly until her scent is so embedded in our skin I can’t tell where she ends, and we begin.
I’ve had her coming on my tongue, on my fingers, riding me until she sobs. Arlo’s been just as bad, teasing her for hours with that pierced cock until she’s a dripping, whining mess. We’ve kept it “casual.” No knots. No promises. Just nights that bleed into mornings where I wake up with her vanilla-peach scent all over my chest and Arlo’s caramel warmth tangled around us both.
I don’t like how much I need it.
Arlo’s hand lands on my thigh, squeezing once. “You’re growling again.”
“I don’t growl.”
“You just did. Twice.” He leans in, voice dropping as his lips trail across up my jaw to my ear. “Jealous looks good on you, though. Hot as hell.”
I glare at him. He just smirks, nibbling on the lobe. “She’s ours, Fox. Even if she’s still telling herself it’s casual. Let me take the edge off before we get to the hotel.”
The bus is dark enough for what he’s proposing but it’s also stupid as hell. If anyone finds out, we won’t just be off the team. Coach will report us to the academic board. Even so, I need this if I’m going to keep from stuffing my knot into Parker the moment we get to the hotel.
Most of the team is half-asleep or watching movies on their phones. Arlo doesn’t wait for an answer. He shifts, pulling me toward the very back corner where the seats sit a little lower. His mouth finds mine and I groan into it, hand sliding up to wrap around his throat the way he likes.
He smiles against my lips. “That’s it. Let me have you.”
Another little growl slips past my lips as he rips my pants open, lowering my boxers enough to unearth my cock before straddling my thighs. The bastard changed into shorts before we left, some part of me wondering if he did this shit on purpose.He reaches into his pocket, unearthing a packet of lube before liberally coating his fingers.
Then he dips his fingers behind him, opening himself up just enough.
“Jesus Christ, Arlo. Fuck.”
Arlo grinds down on me as he fucks himself on his fingers before dragging his shorts to the side and sliding down on my cock. His hands fly to my shoulders as he digs them in, his cock still trapped by the fabric while I fill him. He’s tight and hot and slick with lube, my knot catching his rim as he becomes fully seated.
I roughly grab the back of his neck and jam my lips to his as he raises up and slams back down on my cock. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, guiding his hip as he continues to take off the edge. My lids fly open as he jams himself down one last time, swallowing my knot completely.
“Arlo!” I whisper-yell, my head falling back against the seat as I start to expand inside of him. It’s been a while since we did this, Arlo squeezing me so tight I can’t help but fall apart. I bite my tongue to keep from making a sound as I feel him, Arlo cursing as his hand dips between us.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Arlo groans as he scrambles for something. I glance down to see him hilariously dragging his shorts down and spilling into a small towel, his body sagging against mine.
For as much as he planned this, he didn’t plan well enough.
