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“I don’t know if I want kids.”
The pack stiffens and exchanges looks. I frown. What exactly did they expect from this date? They’re talking about kids and mating, but I don’t even know Fred’s favorite color or if Nigel knows how to speak. So far, he’s just stared. I get being nervous, but that, coupled with the baby talk? Dating is the worst.
“We’d want kids.”
I nod. “That’s great for you.” Setting my napkin on the table, I smile and push away from the table. “I really hope you find the omega you’re looking for. I know she’s out there.”
“Is she leaving?” Nigel asks.
So he does talk, just not to me. “Yes, thank you for a lovely dinner.”
And with that, I grab my purse and head out of the restaurant. It only takes a few seconds for the guys to descend upon me.
“Did they bother you?” Brady asks.
“I thought for sure I’d have to stab someone,” Dylan says.
Austin slings his arm over my shoulder. “Ready to go home and have some real food?”
Grinning up at him, I say, “Yes.”
I said it before,and I’ll say it again. Austin can cook me food any day of the week. All he made was chicken, mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies, but it tasted like heaven. I don’t know what sort of crack he sprinkles on the food, but I’m living for it.
I carry a few dishes to the sink while Brady and Dylan gather the rest. The dishwasher is nearly full, but I fit in the last of the plates with a little careful maneuvering. I become increasingly aware of eyes on me as I close the machine and start it.
I glance at Dylan behind me. His eyes are hooded and set on my ass. “Seriously? All I did was bend over.”
“Your ass is perfect,” he tells me with a little smirk.
“How about dessert?” Austin sets a can of Reddi-wip on the counter.
“Pie?” I don’t know when he found time to make it, but I’m not going to say no to a slice of cherry pie.
“Something like that.”
Dylan comes around and pulls me against his chest, smothering my gasp with his mouth. His hand coasts down my stomach, and his fingers slip beneath the band of my shorts and underwear. I moan into his mouth as he circles my clit. My body’s response is immediate. A simple touch and slick coats my skin.
“Fuck, that smells good,” Brady rasps.
Dylan breaks the kiss, still teasing me. “Do you want him to leave?”
Austin tugs his shirt off and shakes the can of whipped cream, eyeing the way my lips part as Dylan’s finger nearly brings me to my knees. I’m already imagining everything I canlick whipped cream off of, and I’m more than eager to get my hands on Austin’s cock again. Those ridges are my new favorite thing.
But Dylan is talking about Brady.
I glance at him and Dylan presses down hard on my clit. A strangled sound catches in my throat, and Brady’s nostrils flare as he breathes in the scent of my desire. Do I want Brady to leave?
No.
I think if he left now, I’d be terrified he’d run away again. “He can watch.”
A dark chuckle washes over my cheek. “Wicked little omega,” Dylan whispers in my ear.
“Take her clothes off.”
Dylan is quick to follow Austin’s instructions, shucking my shorts and thong off first, but I’m focused on the way Brady’s knuckles turn white as they grip the countertop. He’s trying to hold himself back. Good. Dylan pulls my shirt up, and I sigh as the cool air hits my nipples, so at odds with the warmth of his body.
When Austin moves for me, I hold up my hand. He arches an eyebrow, and I tip my head to the counter. It won’t be the most comfortable place, but it will give Brady an eye-level view of every dirty thing we’ll be doing.
