Knot A Bed Of Roses

The Beginning – Lily

Penthouse suite

Liberty Hotel, Los Angeles

Holy…. heatwave, Hollywood.

I swim up out of my slick-laced dreams, my hands creeping across the rumpled sheets in search of.... What am I looking for again?

It only takes a moment for my brain to catch up to the rest of my body, and then I flush from the top of my fuzzy head to the tips of my curling toes.

Oh, yes.

Otley and Ellis.

The two sexy-as-hell alphas who just saw me through my first ever heat.

Bright Californian sunlight glints behind the heavy drapes and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to imprint them on my brain.

Otley is tall and lean with short ash-blond hair and gray eyes that look like storm clouds behind his wire-framed glasses, while Ellis has jade green eyes and ink-black curls that fall over his brow in a tempting wave.

They wear tuxedos the way guys back home wear Wranglers, and there’s something about the way they move that makes me think of sleek, jungle cats on the prowl.

You’re definitely not in Idaho anymore, Lily.

I stretch and smile, rubbing at the sweet ache in my belly.

It’s soothing, but my fingers itch to stroke my alphas again, to claim all that firm muscle under heated skin…

But since they headed out to get us breakfast, I guess I’ll have to settle for rolling in their sheets until they come back and feed my insatiable appetite.

I groan and giggle at the same time.

How on earth did I get so lucky?

First the contest win and an all-expenses paid trip to LA, and then the best heat an omega could ever wish for, with two of the most attentive men I’ve ever met.

I’m not the kind of girl who has good things just fall into my lap, but after a weekend of being worshipped by Ellis and Otley, I’m thinking that Lady Luck might have had a change of heart.

Maybe this is the beginning of a life that most small-town girls only get to read about in glossy magazines.

Don’t count your flowers before they bloom, kid.

Sage wisdom from my adoptive mom, Rosie, whose voice is a permanent echo in the back of my head. She might grow flowers for a living, but she hasn’t got an impractical bone in her body. And after taking me in as a toddler, she’s raised me to always keep my feet firmly on the ground.

Still… I don’t think she’d begrudge me feeling a little giddy right now.

It’s hard to keep the smug smile off my face as I look around the lavish hotel suite.

Evidence of my three-day heat is scattered across the bed in the form of bruised rose petals and crumbs of chocolate cake.

Sometime last night Otley insisted on ordering the most sinful dessert on the room service menu, and we’d eaten it while they painted their initials on my tingling skin in chocolate frosting…

The memory makes my cheeks burn, and I can’t resist kicking my feet a little as I turn my head and bury my face in the pillow.

Ugh.

Roses and chocolate have nothing on the scent of my two alphas.

I knew they were something special the moment I smelled them across the room at the party.

I swear, I made a literal beeline in their direction when I first caught wind of their perfect scents.

One minute I was nodding politely at the competition sponsor - a PR guy called Crest whose smile was as fake as his spray tan - and the next I was stalking across the room like a safari hunter after elusive prey.

I giggle as I remember the way their eyes dilated when I sauntered past. They were chatting up a couple of college girls who were both older and prettier than me by miles, but they didn’t give them a backward glance as they followed me out onto the balcony.

Silky moonlight, balmy breezes, and a million-dollar view…

Everything faded away as they ran their noses down my neck, breathing me in.

Is it any wonder they triggered my first ever heat?

Since presenting as an omega three months ago, I’ve been waiting with both excitement and trepidation for my heat to arrive.

I knew the signs to look out for – light-headedness, difficulty focusing, and sensitivity to smells - but the reality was so much more than the dry textbooks I read at school.

I guess that’s because my biology teacher, Mr. Frink, didn’t account for scent matches.

As I trace my fingers over my tender breasts, it’s hard not to feel smug.

Mr. Frink warned us that first heats are a biological necessity and nothing more.

Most omegas either book into a sterile treatment clinic to see them through their haze, or struggle through alone with muscle relaxants and the few heat aids offered at the local drugstore.

It’s a rite of passage, but rarely anything to write home about.

But then, most omegas don’t have access to not one but two scent matches. Not only are Ellis and Otley attractive college guys, but they’ve told me more than once that their every urge is to pleasure and pamper me, until I’m stuffed full and fully satisfied.

I press my hand to my mouth, but I can’t stop the laugh from bubbling free. Yay for knots! And no, I’m not talking about the trucker’s hitch Rosie taught me to tie down loads on our old farm truck.

With a grin, I sweep back the covers, tattered rose petals scattering as I crawl to the edge of my nest. Ellis said I could call it that, even though I’m unmated, and the sheets smell more like expensive laundry powder than the mingled scents of my pack.

Or they did before we spent three days making love in them, my slick and their pheromones mingled together in a heady mist.

Not to mention the orgasms.

It’s my new favorite word, like an exotic filling in a delicious sandwich. I’ll have the nine-inch sub on alpha rye, with extra pickles and orgasms, please.

I smirk as my thighs quiver, memories of my last release trickling through me like warm honey.

I had orgasms before my heat, of course, but only when I was on my own, and usually while I was trying really hard not to think about Logan, my next-door neighbor.

We’ve been close since the day he moved in five years ago, and I’d hoped he’d be part of my first heat.

But right when he finally stopped looking at me like a little kid, he turned around and told me he’d enlisted in the Marines.

As I pad towards the bathroom, I struggle to swallow down a bitter taste.

Regret, maybe, and a sliver of anger that’s hard to shake.

There aren’t words to describe how awful it felt to drive him to the bus station and watch him leave for boot camp.

Six months of training, and then he’ll be sent to his permanent duty station for at least the next couple of years.

I mean, I get that he wants to make the world a safer place, but why does he have to do it so far away from me?

I shake my head at my sudden low mood and click on the bathroom light.

Blinking at the sudden glow, a soft gasp leaves my lips as I study my reflection in the mirror.

Is this what the alphas have been looking at for the last three days?

Swollen lips, dazed eyes, and blonde curls that sprout from my head like week-old curly fries?

Not to mention all the tender nips and bruises on my flushed skin.

I lean forward, tentatively rubbing a thumb over my scent gland.

The guys have been completely obsessed with licking and stroking it, and I’m pretty sure I can pick out their individual teeth marks in the red, raised flesh.

We agreed beforehand that there wouldn’t be any real biting, but that didn’t stop me from begging them to claim me.

Ellis definitely looked interested, while Otley groaned as if I was a siren luring them into treacherous depths.

A wide grin tugs at my tender lips, and I eye the extravagant tub in the corner as I quickly wash up.

How will I ever forget the exact moment I gripped Ellis’ shoulders, his mouth teasing my nipples while Otley slid into me from behind?

Both of them kept telling me what a good omega I was – how perfect I was, in every way - while scented water lapped around our bodies and I whimpered and begged them to bite me…

I grip the vanity, clenching my sore thighs as I replay the scene in my head.

Can an alpha be both a perfect gentleman and a sinful lover?

All I know is that their dirty talk set my cheeks on fire, while their tender touches made my heart sing.

And the way they kept checking in with me, even when I was deep in my haze?

No omega could have asked for more, even though rational thought had hitched out of town sometime around my fifth, mind-scrambling orgasm.

With daylight creeping into the room, it feels like my heat is finally coming to an end, and I feel a sharp stab of disappointment.

It was the best heat I could’ve asked for, but I can’t help wondering what it would be like to wake every day in a room like this.

Not the fancy bed and luxury bath products, but with Ellis and Otley, their scents so entwined with mine, it’s impossible to wash them off my skin.

I know it’s way too early to start thinking long term, but I can’t resist humming a little as I pull on a silk bathrobe and pad out of the bathroom.

The first thing I notice is an oily odor, instead of the coffee and pastries the guys promised to get for breakfast. I look around for them, my steps faltering as I realize the unpleasant odor is coming from the alpha across the room.

This is one of the hotel’s best rooms, so it’s a large space, with a leather sectional facing the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The PR guy - Crest - is sitting in the middle of the sofa, his arm stretched across the back as he stares out at the view.

When he turns his head, his gaze sweeping me from head to toe, I suddenly feel as awkward and out of place as I did during our first meeting at the airport three days ago.