Derek
“Pretty nice to have your own beach,” I remark as we take the sandy track down to the ocean, the rising sun warm on our backs. It’s still early, but that’s not why we have the beach to ourselves. The Visser Pack – if that’s what they call themselves – own everything as far as my eyes can see, including a sleek, wooden sailboat that’s moored about twenty metres offshore. I don’t know much about sailing, but today we’re only dipping our toes in the water, so to speak. Em’s heat is starting to taper off, so when she nudged me awake this morning and suggested a swim, I was happy to follow her lead. As always, she couldn’t resist the lure of the ocean sparkling through the bedroom curtains, and I can’t resist her, especially when she’s wearing a lime-green, polka dot bikini.
“I think this is the prettiest place on the planet,” she hums, giving my hand a squeeze as we reach the edge of the sand dunes. “And I can’t believe there’s an apiary. Did it come with the property?”
Her curious glance is directed towards Langston, who is trudging along the sandy track on her other side. Something tells me the professor isn’t a morning person, although he looks pretty good as he jams an old baseball cap on his head and scratches the golden scruff on his cheek. “Nope. Finn had a local expert set it up a few months ago.”
He slides a look my way and I shrug as I stuff my hands in my shorts. We both heard Finn tell her about it as we arrived at the property, but I’m not sure how much information Em’s retained during her heat. Given how fact-conscious she is, it worries me a little, but I wait until she’s busy collecting shells before I turn to the professor.
Langston. I guess that’s how I should think of him, since I’m wearing his mark on my neck.
“How can an omega really consent if she makes decisions during her heat?”
“Sometimes they can’t,” Lang says with a hint of guilt, watching Em exclaim over a bit of driftwood she’s plucked off the sand. Snatching up a strip of seaweed, she twirls it over her head as she skips further down the beach. “And there are plenty of alphas out there who take advantage of it.” He turns his startling blue eyes my way. “Do you think that’s what we’ve done? Ignored her consent?”
“I don’t think so.” It’s as honest as I can be, considering how overwhelming this whole experience has been. I’m still trying to wrap my head around Em being a switch, like Clark, and that the guy who triggered her is their mate. Finn sent me a report on Soren Hill’s condition when I agreed to take his job, and it’s obvious that his connection with Em has been good for him. I respect what he’s been through, but that doesn’t mean any of them should take Em for granted. “I guess it depends on how you treat her going forward. She’s never had very good alpha role models, or omegas for that matter.”
I don’t like to speak badly of her family, but both her mum and her sister are struggling in different ways and barely getting by. Plus, she’s told me enough about her arsehole dad to know that a lot of her insecurities stem from him. And after the bullshit that went down with her ex, the last thing she needs is a bunch of alphas making her feel second-rate.
“I know I haven’t helped there.” Regret twists Lang’s mouth and he shakes his head, staring at his feet. “When we finally got together, I panicked and ran, instead of telling her how I felt.”
I know exactly what he’s talking about. It was at a uni fundraiser before Em and I started dating, but she’d been dropping little hints about her career mentor for a couple of months. I knew she was excited about seeing him, but when I asked her about it a couple of days later, the hurt was written all over her face. “And what happens the next time you disappear for months on end? It was bad enough when you weren’t her mate.”
“ Our mate,” Lang corrects me, reaching out and grasping my shoulder. The sun is already warm on my back, but his hand feels like a brand where it sears into my skin. “And I’ll never hurt her again, ; you have my word. I might have screwed up our courting period, but I knew she was important to me from the moment I met her. Finn says we’re soulmates…”
I suck in such a sharp breath, it reignites my hacking cough, and I have to bend at the waist to stop my chest from caving in. It hurts like a motherfucker, and I’m wiping the tears from my eyes when Lang’s hand feathers up my back and comes to settle on my neck. Not sure why he wants to feel me coughing up a lung, but something about his steady grip gives me to strength to swallow past my raw throat. “Shit. That hurts like a mofo.”
His lips quirk at my ancient slang. “You know I can fix that. As your mate, my alpha juice is yours.”
I squint at him through the tears leaking out of my eyes. I grew up hearing jokes about alpha juice and how it’s the elixir of all ailments, but my amusement soured when I failed to present in high school. My friends moved off, cutting me from my lives, and any fantasies of treating a needy mate to my magical alpha juice went with them.
Hold up. Am I the needy mate in this scenario? “You’re kidding, right?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
I expect him to smirk and leave it at that, but he squeezes my neck, pulling me towards him until we’re chest-to-chest. I’ve already worked out that Lang likes to throw his weight around when it comes to me, and despite all my misgivings about alphas, it seems I like being manhandled by this one.
“All you have to do is lean over and kiss me again.”
Again , because the first time was right after he mated Em, and before he offered me his bond. I still can’t work out if he did it because we’re a package deal, or because he’s really interested in me.
But I won’t pretend I didn’t enjoy his kiss. It was hard and bruising, and when I tried to assert my dominance, he put me firmly in my place. Not something I thought I’d like, but it was kind of nice to give in for a change. Most people who look at me expect a guy who wants to carry the world on his shoulders.
“You’re a bit of a bully, you know that?”
I’m not sure if that’s the right label, but it sparks a bright white grin that looks remarkably like a shark. It also makes his hand tighten on my neck, his thumb stroking over my scruff. “I like putting big boys in their place.”
It’s an echo of the thoughts swirling around my brain, but I keep my chin steely as I stare back at him. “And where’s that, in case I’m curious?”
“Under my thumb.” He feathers the digit across my lips before pressing it back against my pulse, heat burning in his blue eyes. “And maybe in my bed, if you’re curious about that, too.”
I murmur something that sounds suspiciously like a scoff, but when his hand falls away, I lean in and peck his lips. They’re firm and warm, with enough of Em’s flavour lingering there to draw a hungry moan from my chest. I pull away, embarrassed by the slip, but he jerks me back with a growl, his mouth crashing down on mine. I could pretend it’s more of Em I’m chasing, but that would be a lie. Especially when he slips his tongue between my lips and rubs it against mine.
Em said he tastes like crumpets, but it’s more like the honey mead I once had at a craft brewery. Potent and sweet, with the perfect amount of spice. He doesn’t give me any time to get used to him, holding me tight to his chest as his tongue licks and tangles with mine. I’m not sure if it’s his alpha juice at work, but my blood is buzzing, and I have to fist his shirt to stay on my feet.
In the words of Star Trek, this might be going boldly where I’ve never gone before, but I seem to be more than ready for the adventure. As his hands land on my hips and he jerks me against his erection, I groan into his smiling lips. He rubs us together, almost purring as he feels my own stiff dick, and I’m guessing my mental pathways have been changed forever. At the very least, Lang’s tongue – and the long, thick rod in his pants - are sensory inputs I start to miss as soon as he pulls away.
“What’s going on inside that big brain of yours?” He laughs, his thumbs now pressing into my temples. He gives me a shake, but instead of looking annoyed, his eyes are gleaming with curiosity. “You look like I blew a fuse in there.”
“Uh.”
He laughs again, the blue of his eyes so damn bright I feel like I’m drowning in the ocean behind him. “That good?”
I have to wipe my hand across my mouth before I can croak out, “Good.”
He smirks, but leans in against to peck my lips. “Told you I could fix you right up if you just let me in a little.”
I’m still staring at him when something cold splashes against the back of my neck, and I turn to see Em standing up to her ankles in the ocean. She grins, kicking another spray of water my way. “Hey, lovebirds! Got any of that good stuff for me?”
I glance at Lang, my brain finally coming back online. He’s watching Em like she’s a magical sea creature who’s washed up on the shore just for him, and I feel a faint glow in my chest. “You look like you need to cool off, professor.”
He grins so wide, I can’t help but smile back, and then we’re charging towards the surf, Em squealing as she flings a strand of seaweed our way in a futile bid to escape us.
After a long nap, where Em wakes me twice – once to ride me like a salt-dusted goddess, and then an hour later to suck me off while she takes Langston’s knot – I head to the kitchen in search of lunch. I’ve missed a lot of meals since Clark moved out, but I’m feeling particularly woozy after so many hours buried in the nest. During the two days of Em’s heat, I’ve worked muscles I didn’t know I have, and if I manage to get the kitchen to myself, I wouldn’t mind putting an ice pack on my balls.
My nose must be stuffed full of sea water and pheromones, because I don’t notice Finn until I’m halfway to the refrigerator. He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie and is stirring something on the stovetop while bread rolls bake in the oven. It’s a strangely domestic scene, but my mouth waters at the delicious meaty aroma coming from the pot. “I’m making a beef stew, if you’re hungry.”
My stomach chooses that moment to announce its presence – loudly - and I rub my nape as I wander closer. “You cook?”
“Not often. Lang’s the chef.” My surprise must be obvious, because he nods towards a wooden door next to the fridge. “Check out his pantry, if you don’t believe me.”
I skirt the enormous island, grabbing a ginger beer from the fridge before I check out the pantry. I whistle as I look around the fully stocked shelves, although I huff as I take in the wall of gleaming gold jars, each bearing an exotic label. “Did his fixation with honey start before or after he met Em?”
Finn snorts in amusement. “He’s always had a sweet tooth, but his hoarding tendencies are new.”
I just lift my brows at him and grab a bag of Cheezels from the shelf. Walking back over to the island, I perch on a bar stool, conscious of my audience as I dig into the cheesy snack. “You going to lecture me on not spoiling my appetite?”
“From what I’ve seen, your appetite can handle a few cheese puffs.” It’s my turn to snort, but Finn’s strange grey eyes are serious as they flick to my throat. “How are you feeling? Is Lang taking care of you?”
How do I describe what happened on the beach and not come off sounding like a besotted teenager?
“He’s fine.” I munch on a few more snacks, then set them aside, the treat sitting heavily in my stomach. I’ve got a lot of questions for Finn, but it’s hard to frame them when I’m not sure where we stand. Am I a packmate or an employee? He might be the head of the Visser Pack, but he also runs a billion-dollar security company that I hacked only a few months ago. I know things about him that have never made it onto the public record, and I’m damn sure he knows things about me that I’d prefer didn’t see the light of day.
And then there’s the not-so-small issue of my attraction to him. What the hell is with that, anyway? A week ago, I would have sworn I wasn’t into guys. I roomed with Clark for years, and if there was ever a more alluring example of the male gender, I’m pretty sure he’s an AI creation. As for alphas, I’ve steered clear of them since my high school days, and even when I thought I might present as one, I never looked at other guys like mate material. So why am I now gulping down these guy’s pheromones like I’m addicted to their scents?
And even if I am bisexual, it doesn’t mean Finn wants to know about it. He’s clearly not into guys – or if he is, he keeps it as lowkey as his company secrets. I looked his way more than once during Em’s heat, and while he was obviously turned on, he never made a move on any of us. He stuck to his facilitator role, even when Em was at her neediest, grinding on his lap through a slick test and begging him for more. His rejection stung on her behalf, but it was also a good wake-up call. Because if he turns down someone like Em, why would he give me a second glance?
“Lang says you guys are genuine,” I say as I slowly peel the paper label off my beer bottle. “But I’m guessing you’ve got an agenda here.”
He turns from the stovetop to quirk a black brow at me. “How so?”
“Well, you’ve been stalking Em for a long time, right? I thought I was the target after hacking into your system, but now I’m wondering if that was just a coincidence.” I lean forward, giving him a look that makes him lower his spoon. “Lang said something about soulmates. Is that just to sugarcoat the fact you lured Em here under false pretences?”
“False pretences?” He grabs some cutlery from the drawer, looking more curious than insulted. “You’re living in our packhouse, and you’re both wearing my packmate’s bites. This isn’t a game to us.”
“No? Because I get the feeling you’re a master at pushing chess pieces around a board.” He doesn’t deny it and I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s Em to you, really? A pawn or your queen?”
Something flickers in his eyes, and he grips the edge of the counter. With a keystroke, this guy could have me blacklisted in the tech industry for life. And with a single command, he could have me on the ground, writhing on my belly like a worm. But I don’t get any kind of threatening vibe from him as he leans forward and says quietly, “I promise you, , I’m deadly serious about this pack and your place in it. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want it, and I’ll admit I’ve hoped we would all end up here eventually. But the soulmate discussion is something I need to talk to Emily about after her heat. When I have, I’d like to formally court you both, if you’re open to it.”
I blink at him. “Court us?”
“Yes. Take you on dates. Buy you gifts.” He picks up his spoon and starts filling a bowl with the aromatic stew. As he places it in front of me, I feel the full force of his dominance, not to mention his mind-scrambling attractiveness. I can’t tell if it’s because of his moody beauty or because Lang recently fried my brain with his alpha juice, but it takes everything in me not to drool all over the counter as he says in a low voice, “Feed you, knot you, claim you. If you’re open to it, of course.”
Fucking hell.
“Eat up while I grab the dinner rolls.”
What can I say to that? Instead of trying to form words, I focus on the food, barely looking up again until I’m scraping the bowl clean. Finn places a second helping in front of me and while I demolish that, he takes something from his hoodie pocket and slides it across the bench towards me. “I wanted to give you this. It’s… the keys to the kingdom, I guess. My passcodes, access files, everything is on there.” My surprise is so complete, I nearly swallow my spoon. “I know you’ve been looking into us, . You shouldn’t have to work so hard to know us, now we’re pack.”
Coming from him, the declaration is both deeply unsettling and wildly appealing. A part of me yearns to be pack in a way I thought was dead and buried back in high school. But why would he hand this over? That kind of access wouldn’t just expose his business dealings, it would give me the keys to him . “Everything?”
He nods, calmly eating his lunch like he didn’t just offer to lay himself bare to me. “There’s personal stuff you may or may not be interested in, but there’s also enough to get me thrown into jail if it fell into the wrong hands.”
I stare at him, the wound of past rejections throbbing against my ribs. “Then I don’t want it.” I push the access card back towards him. “If you’re going to court us, then we can get to know each other the normal way. Coffee dates. Beers at the pub. Whatever.”
“Netflix and Thai food?”
There’s a silky edge to his voice that makes me squirm. But it also makes me feel as giddy as a teenager, because Finn Visser can’t seriously be thinking about snuggling on the couch with us, can he?
“Then I’ll offer you a challenge, instead,” he replies, his pale eyes gleaming. “Break in. Do your worst, dig your deepest, uncover all my secrets. There’s an office upstairs you can use, or I can set you up with your own space somewhere. You can call it your first assignment, if you want, because it will help me improve my security measures once you’re done.”
And just like that, the guy becomes one hundred times more attractive to me, because who doesn’t want to go up against both their nemesis and their idol?
I can feel the grin stretching my face, both hungry and flirty at the same time. “You really want me to do my worst?”
“Only if that’s your best.” He arches a brow at me as he stands and flips the dishcloth over his shoulder. “After all, there’s no greater turn on than getting hammered by a worthy opponent, am I right?”