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“Right?” Reese strokes my calf, adding his rich cocoa to the press of alpha. “That other chick smells like floor polish.”
Bishop kisses my fingers at the base of my cast. “You’re the real thing, Queen. Truth or lie?”
Their rumbles and scents and rock-hard reassurance—plus the rock-hard alpha between my legs—spark a wave of wild hope. “True.”
“Then skip asking.” Jin’s heated voice hits my skin like melted candle wax. “Take what you want.”
Yeah.
Let’s do it like that.
I grab for another alpha. My fingers scrape Dutch’s T-shirt. While Jin holds my hips, I haul Dutch to my mouth.
Hungry, he opens for the kiss, shooting off the rumbling, cannon-fire moan that ruins me. Buttery maple bacon curls my toes, and the body I always thought was broken perfumes the universe with lemon-glazed sponge.
It’s still not enough.
I need more.
More kisses.
More skin.
More everything and every part of them.
I dip to Dutch’s throat.
When my teeth graze his skin, salty-sweet pancake batter coats my tongue.
“Oh, fuck.” Dutch grabs Jin’s shoulder for support.
While he shudders, I purr and tease his throat.
Then Bish pushes in, twisting my upper body to him instead. His boozy pheromones fizz, and his attention leaves me wriggling as he scans me head-to-toe. He frowns at the cast.
“I’m not hurt.” Maybe I should be hurt, but all I feel is heat and the four alphas jostling for my touch.
I yank Bishop’s tie, tearing open his collar.
His frown breaks to a deadly smile—like he just bought a new pair of custom loafers, perfect for burying his enemies. “Let me take you home to my hotel.”
“Can’t wait.” I wiggle my hips, sweating and itching. “I’m… I’m…”
“Too hot.” Reese’s voice goes sandpaper coarse as he smooths my flushed forehead. “It’s game time if that’s what you—”
“Want.” I snag the meat of the thumb he left too close to my lips.
Reese gasps.
I finally understand why everyone’s so obsessed with biting.
My jaw must be connected to my clit.
Biting Reese roughs his breathing. I grind Jin’s belt buckle as Bish feather-kisses my knuckles, and Dutch’s coats my skin with roaming hands and pancake purrs.
I’m dripping, hot, and halfway to binge-fucking my pack in a waiting room with a wall full of windows.
But the scents of unknown, maybe-enemies stick in the public space, and the bright lights irrationally piss me off.
