Chapter 23 #2
“No sex talk unless I get to join,” Levon says, walking inside the kitchen to wrap me in a hug. “I don’t like it when I can’t sleep with you.”
“I was just saying that,” I admit, happily leaning against his chest. “Hi, gorgeous.”
“We’re almost to the point where I can permanently move in,” he mumbles against my skin. “Everything seems to take too long.”
“You’re just impatient,” Santo smirks. “Go see if Miles needs anything else?”
The backyard kitchen and grill Miles has outside is stunning. This house is made for entertaining, but he simply doesn’t. Miles is apparently grumpier with the world than he is with me.
“Yeah, he already yelled at me to bring him the steaks,” Levon sighs. “Miles is very bossy.”
“I’ve noticed,” I giggle, watching as he leaves with his hands full. Turning to Santo, I raise my brow. “Brownies?”
“Si,” he murmurs, his gaze moving over my body. I need to change soon, but my shorts and tank top are getting a lot of appreciation at the moment. “Fuck, my dick is always hard between you and Levon.”
Smirking, I help him wipe down the counter before starting on several trays of brownies. By the end, we have cocoa powder smeared over our faces and Santo’s cock is grinding against my ass.
His fingers unsnap my shorts, and his hand slides under the waistband to cup my pussy as I whimper.
“I really missed you,” he groans, kissing up my throat. “Do you think we have time for a quickie?”
“No,” Miles says, walking into the kitchen. “Bake your brownies, Santo.”
“I can do both,” Santo teases, pushing his fingers inside my entrance as I lean back on his chest.
“Now you’re just teasing her,” Miles rumbles, his voice deepening as he watches as my breaths quicken. Santo rubs his thumb over my clit, making me whine as my hips jerk forward for more. “Santo.”
I gasp as the growl slides over my skin, and Miles leans forward as his nostrils flare. I’m perfuming and I can’t fucking stop.
“Everyone is going to be able to smell me,” I whine.
“Ugh, good point,” Santo complains, kissing my temple. “I’ll open the windows.”
“I need to finish off the vegetables on the grill,” Miles says, watching as my body shudders. Santo curls his fingers once before pulling them out of my shorts, sucking them clean with his mouth.
They continue to bustle around me while my pussy pools with heat as I pout. I’m going to have to change because the amount of slick I’m producing is ruining my panties. I won’t use my descenting spray, but I do need to change into panties that can handle what these alphas do to me.
“You smell delicious,” Miles growls in my ear before he walks out again.
“This is so unfair,” I grumble, glancing at Santo’s ass as he bends over to reduce the temperature in the oven. He’s just doing this on purpose at this point.
“I was absolutely going to fuck you, but the team would find me knot deep in you.”
“Not the best first impression,” I sigh. “I’m going to run upstairs and change.”
“I love these shorts though,” Santo says with a chuckle as he glances over at me.
“Rude,” I grunt, not bothering to fix my open shorts as I walk out of the kitchen. As far as I know, it’s still just us.
Knowing that’s apt to change soon, I jog up the stairs and into the room I’m sharing with Miles. He says it was built as a pack bedroom, but since he was single when he bought it, he didn’t pay any attention to the setup.
There’s a giant bed in the middle of the room, along with three doors in front of it that could be closets. Miles told me at one point, he considered making one into an office, but he doesn’t work enough at a desk for that to work.
Instead, one is his closet, and the other is mine. I packed my things up the day we went to see my dad, and then slept most of the drive to Nashville. I’m still in the process of unpacking, despite not bringing more than clothes, computer, and personal items.
Biting my lip, I open the door to the far right, stepping inside to view the inside of it. It has a sloped ceiling, and I lean against the wall to think about if I could make this my nest. I’ll have to mention it to Miles later.
Snapping myself out of my day dreaming, I close the door behind me and pull off my clothes. Tossing them in the hamper, I dig through my bags for a cropped lace top and a maxi length skirt. It’ll be loose, cute, and still allow me to feel comfortable.
Regardless of what I know, I’m still careful about how I dress.
I know that the male gaze should know better than to look anywhere near a claimed omega, but my previous experiences tell me to cling to what makes me feel safest. Changing my panties for something that wicks away slick and scent, I dress quickly, and slip on a pair of sandals instead of boots.
Fixing my hair, I brush it out and then pile it into a loose bun at the top of my head.
“Caelia!” Miles yells up the stairs, telling me that I’ve definitely spent too much time up here.
Well, my mind tends to wander. Oops.
Hurrying out the door, I curse, turning to grab a wide brimmed hat for the sun. Carrying it in my hand, I yell, “Headed down!”
I don’t see anyone as I walk quickly down the stairs, making sure not to slip. The door opens and I hear people talking loudly as they enter the house. I’m just standing there awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what to do.
If I keep going, I’ll be surrounded by huge hockey players. Nope, I’m going to wait until it’s safe for me to avoid them until I’m introduced. Call me crazy, but this is how my anxiety ridden brain works.
The scent of cinnamon rolls gets closer to me, and my gaze moves up to see that Levon is moving in to envelop me in his arms.
“Hey guys,” Levon says, effectively hiding me with his body. Relaxing against him, I breathe him in. Yes, this is what I need.
“Hey, Levon,” someone says. “Are you going to tell me who you’re hiding, or tell us to get fucked and find Coach?”
“Get fucked,” my alpha grunts. “Coach is outside grilling. Go see if he needs any help and help yourself to a drink. Santo is in the kitchen I think.”
“That’s very domestic of you all,” another player mutters before continuing on.
Levon’s fingers push my chin up to look at him before his lips come crushing down on mine. Moaning, I lean up onto my toes to get closer.
“Better now?” he breathes, stealing my next breath until I’m grinning at him. He’s grounding me with his scent, body, and touch.
“Yes, thank you,” I murmur.
People continue walking in, but I feel as if we’re caught in a little bubble by the stairs. Half the players don’t even notice us.
“Who is Caelia?” a voice calls out, making me peek out.
“What does the coach want, Rhett?” Levon asks, turning us slightly.
“He told me he wanted his girl,” Rhett grins. “Is she hiding?”
“Little bit,” Levon says. “Don’t be mean.”
Raking his fingers through his short red hair, he nods unrepentantly. “Never am. I don’t think we’re particularly scary, though.”
“Just a bunch of jocks,” Levon teases me, taking my hand to walk beside him. Guess it’s now or never. In just the time that I’ve been standing with Levon, the house has filled up. “For real, Rhett. Let her warm up to everyone. I mean it.”
The hockey player gives me a nod, looking curious.
“Why do I feel like I know you?” Rhett asks, making me cringe slightly.
I really hope that this isn’t going to turn into a fight with the coach about why he’s sleeping with the “enemy.”
“I’m Curtis Freedman’s daughter,” I reply. “He’s the—”
“The Dragons’ coach, that’s right!” Rhett exclaims. “Well, let’s get you outside so that our coach doesn’t hand me my ass, huh?”
I sneak Levon a glance and he just winks at me as he leads me outside.
“Miles!” Levon yells. “Look who I found?”
Miles is wearing an apron now over his dark blue short sleeved shirt and shorts. He looks comfortable as everyone lounges around talking, and a few of the guys are already in the pool.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “I’m going to hand this off to one of the assistant coaches to watch the food while I introduce you to everyone. However, I’d like for you to eat first.”
“The guys are cool, but we don’t want your anxiety to keep you from having an appetite,” Levon says gently.
“What about everyone else?” I ask weakly, though my stomach does rumble.
“They can wait, or get it their damn selves,” Miles grunts, grabbing a plate and loading it up for me.
The salad is suspiciously already on the plate he grabs, which means that my alphas are all working together to ensure that I eat. What can I say? They’re not wrong.
When there’s a lot of things going on, I tend to forget about myself and what I need until I’m having a panic attack or my sugar is crashing.
“I smell a conspiracy,” I mutter, though I am smiling as Miles’ hand guides me away from Levon to the covered patio away from the smell of the grill.
“Yes, now open,” he says, putting food on the fork. People glance over at us at his words, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment as my lips part to take the bite he places between them.
“Coach,” an alpha female says, stopping in front of us at the table we’re sitting at.
“Marilyn, didn’t I forget to invite you?” Miles grumbles.
“Yes, but I did hear about your little get together, and you’ve been avoiding me,” she says.
“It’s not avoidance if I’ve been out of town,” he corrects.
“Maybe, but you’re robbing me of the experience of matchmaking, which means that you’re going to need to make it up to me,” Marilyn says with a grin.
I don’t know how she’s not warm in her professional checkered dress, but even her makeup is perfect.
“You make me crazy,” Miles mutters. “Marilyn, this is Caelia Freedman, my omega. Caelia, this is the Scented Scorpion’s public relations manager, Marilyn Mansfield.”
Since I knew who she was once he said her name, I can tell that he is giving me the formal introduction for etiquette purposes.
Thankfully, I’m no longer chewing and can give her a small smile. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”