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Finn keeps feeding me with a single-minded determination I can’t resist while Hunter wraps my arches in gauze.
One alpha at my feet, another hand-feeding me. I’m pretty sure I should be freaking out, but melty cheddar is some kind of drug. All I want to do is sit and be pampered.
“This next.” Finn presses the shot glass into my fingers.
“What is it?” I sniff the liquor. It smells like liquid smoke, but sweeter.
“Hunter in a glass. He’ll warm you up and make you forget those feet.”
“Finn,” Hunter rumbles a warning. “You can’t make her drink mezcal.”
“What? I’m not making her. Am I making you?”
“No.” He really isn’t. Besides, alcohol is a downer, great for suppressing my pheromones. I’ve never tasted any except for a few sips of champagne at OCC events I snuck into. I liked the little bubbles.
“Cheers.” Finn clinks his glass to mine.
“Cheers?” I dump the shot into my mouth, not waiting to see if he does the same.
It burns.
I clap a hand over my face, almost spluttering, swallowing down the liquid smoke. It’s rich and deep and sweet.
Just like the man between my legs.
“How do you like taking Hunter between those lips?” Finn smirks.
“Delicious,” I answer, still savoring the smoke on my tongue. Then I realize what he said. “I mean. No. Not… That’s not…”
“Ignore Finn. Everyone does.” Hunter stands, closing up the kit.
I wiggle my bandaged toes. Thanks to his magic touch or maybe the liquor burning a hole in my stomach, I feel weirdly comfy and light. “Thank you.”
“Eat more.” Finn holds up another bite, this time a chicken wing I didn’t notice being delivered.
I reach for it. “I can—”
“No way.” He snatches the wing away. “Let me.”
I’m too hungry to argue. He wants to play games, I can play. I need them all to see me as sweet and harmless. I need them to tolerate having me around for as long as it takes to plan my escape.
All the better if they like me. Then we’ll have no drama, and I’ll just hide in their basement until I can disappear.
I nibble the wing and my eyes roll back at the taste of sweet barbecue sauce.
I’ve had worse days.
***
Twelve
FINN
Our loaner omega makes the sexiest sounds. I keep leaning into her, trying to catch a sniff, but all she smells like is Hunter’s smoke.
She might not be awakened, but when she moans, my cock fucking is. He perks up every time she licks those rosebud lips.
Lilah.
