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I was surprised by Gray. He had done more for our group dynamic in the past three hours than I had done–all my pack meetings and pre-emptive discussions and anxious anticipation–over the entire past week.
And I was a bit ashamed of myself. Despite all my anxiety over this meeting, I had obviously not devoted much thought to whatRianwas feeling about this whole thing. Had assumed that he would be fine with it, but also that he wouldn’t really care all that much about an omega, not beyond the possibilities it opened up for our pack. I knew, looking at him smiling and laughing over matching steaks, that I had been wrong.
I should have realized it when they kissed, back at the house, and I felt Rian’s thrill over our bond, but my head had been sluggish with lust and I hadn’t understood what, exactly, it meant, that our beta was so into the (potential, temporary) omega.
But he was. He was interested in her, attracted to her, and judging by her sweet scent even now, she was interested in him, and–fuck–when Gray had approached the two of them, urging them together, moving them closer, gently encouraging them, all I had been able to do was stand there like an exceptionally horny statue.
Some pack leader I was.
I had been a poor conversationalist during the whole meal, although I had tried, really tried, to explain my research succinctly. It was complicated, though, and I suspected Rian was teasing Madison under the table. Having someone’s hand running up and down your thigh was not conducive to full comprehension of the epidemiological processes my team was in charge of. I wanted it to be my hand, not Rian’s, touching her, my lips, not his, that had kissed her, in the bedroom earlier, my cock, not Gray’s, that had been pressed against her round, touchable ass.
“Luc?” Rian was looking at me inquisitively, head tilted to one side.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said, did you want dessert?”
The dessert I wanted wasn’t on the menu: what I wanted was Madison, up against a wall, as I plunged into her hot, tight body, her legs wrapped around my waist and her head thrown back in pleasure. The taste of her mouth would be sweeter than any creme brulee, I was sure of it.
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Rian quipped, and I realized I had just been staring at Madison, practically drooling. She wasn’t unaffected, either, I realized a second later: her face was pink, her eyes dilated, and as she leaned toward Rian, I could smell her sweetness. Would she stay with us tonight? One look at the several empty bottles at the table and the flush on her cheekbones said no, she couldn’t, but that didn’t negate the fact that wanted her to, wanted more than anything to take her home with us, to make her ours.
And that was why we could not: she didn’t want to be ours, not now, maybe not ever. This wasn’t a date, for her, this was just a… a biological arrangement. Somehow, we had found the perfect omega for our pack, and she wasn’t sure she wanted one. But–we had money, and good looks, and charm. (Well, at least Rian had those last two.) We would find a way to win her over. If she was willing to let us.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Madison
I surprisedmyself by wanting to go home with them after dinner.
I would have said yes, had they asked me, but when Lucas dropped me off at my apartment building, letting Rian walk me up and plant a kiss on my lips that still sizzled under my skin hours later, my disappointment was mingled with relief. Had it been just Rian and I, out on a dinner date, I would have invited him up. Gray and I wouldn’t have made it to dinner in the first place. I shivered, remembering the way he had grabbed my hair, had pressed his length into my ass and pushed me closer to his beta.
I had seen Rian’s mating mark, over the side of his throat, at dinner. Gray’s? I had assumed he was mated to both of them, but…
Lucas was still something of an enigma to me. He was quiet, but passionate about his work, that much was clear by his attempts to explain it to me over the most delicious meal of my life. Rian’s hand on my thigh, dipping between my legs to trace the inseam of my jeans, never getting close enough to where I wanted it, had obliterated any chance of me understanding what the alpha was talking about, but I doubted I would understand it anyway, what with my liberal arts degree.And he was big, I couldn’t help but think, as I stripped out of my clothes, tripping over my pants as I pulled them off too quickly. His shoulders under his tight tee shirt had been a second source of distraction during dinner. I had never felt small before, at five foot six, but Lucas’s body would cover my own entirely. I pulled off my shirt, then unclasped my bra, gratefully, and skimmed a hand from my thigh up past my underwear, over the flat expanse of my stomach, over the swelling of my breasts. And his cock–I had felt Rian’s, and Gray’s, while we kissed, but Lucas had just stood across the room, devouring me with his eyes.
I wanted to feel him, too. I slipped my fingers into my underwear, not surprised to find myself slick and wet already–my new body was much more eager, much more obliging than my beta hormones had ever been–and stroked along my slippery folds gently. I had toys in the drawer–some serviceable ones that the hospital had sent home with me after my dangerous heat and one sparkly, motorized one with every imaginable bell and whistle available that had been a gag gift from Charlie–but the thought of them revulsed me. My fingers, which I slipped inside myself as I ground against the heel of my hand, weren’t enough, not nearly, but it wasn’t a toy, it wasLucasthat I wanted stretching me around his hard shaft, Rian’s lips I wanted on my own, Gray’s voice I wanted whispering filthy words in my ear.
My own breath was loud in my quiet apartment as I worked myself over the crest of my orgasm. I wriggled the rest of the way out of my underwear, and pulled the sheet over myself, feeling tired but not entirely satisfied. Would I ever be? Back when I had been a beta, it had been easier, at least on nights when Brent was feeling generous.
Don’t think about Brent.
I was thankful–and a little bit guilty, knowing what I had just done with visions of his face behind my eyelids–when Rian’s text came through, distracting me from a self-pity spiral.
Want to get coffee tomorrow afternoon? Just us.
Then, a second later:
You’re buying.
I smiled into my pillow, and–after texting backyes please–drifted happily to sleep, trying to ignore the not-strictly platonic butterflies that were spawning in my stomach, and the way my heart was doing very un-medical flip flops in my chest.
* * *
Rian was wearingcasual clothes when we met under the awning of the coffee shop I’d picked out, and the first thing I noticed was that he looked….extremelylike boyfriend material.
Then he pulled me in close, wrapping me in a tight hug, and all I could smell wasthem.He probably only held me like that for a second, but it felt like hours–all the nerves melted from my shoulders as I leaned into his soft sweater. He released me, and held open the door, beckoning me to enter the shop.
“You wear glasses?” I stammered as we stood in line for coffee, trying to quash the flocks of butterflies having a rodeo somewhere between my throat and my bladder.
