Chapter 38
chapter
thirty-eight
Betty
If you buy me any more kale, I will burn down your house.
Bridget
Please. As if you could find a lighter in those junk drawers of yours.
Betty
Bring me margarita mix instead.
I just DoorDashed two bottles of tequila.
Bridget
I probably won’t make it out of the house until this afternoon.
I’m a little… tied up at the moment.
Wait.
Bitch, if you know how to DoorDash WHY am I going to the store for you?
Betty
Can it, red. You love me.
Besides, you have that fancy little car now.
Bridget
So what?!
Betty
So don’t forget the limes.
“Do you think she likes peonies?”
Jesse’s quiet, concerned question is the first thing that reaches my consciousness. My mind lags, wondering who he’s talking about.
You! my Omega whines. Because he’s ? —
I give her some severe side-eye. You , I correct, could have gotten us mauled last night. Hush .
Before I can react to her needling or the nauseous seethe in my middle— are they really talking about me ? —I hear a grumpy huff.
Colt .
“She paints daisies and sunflowers all over her shit. Probably should have started there.”
My stomach flips. Oh . They are talking about me .
The solid warmth under my body shifts. The motion is slight, but it’s just enough to remind me where I am… and why I can’t move.
Oh.
My.
God.
Adrian is knotted inside me.
And hugging me ?
Heavy, muscled arms tighten around my back as the quietest purr I’ve ever heard rumbles beneath the chiseled chest pressed to my cheek. “She’ll love the flowers, Jesse,” Adrian says, his echoing reassurance tickling my ear. “Where did you get the food from?”
Dante mutters with his trademark petulance, “I cooked the food. Cristo . You dumbasses act like making toast is rocket science. It’s literally bread, guys.”
I have to smirk at that one—it sounds like a comment I would make.
You know what, querida? I think you and I have much more in common than we think.
It’s true, even if it makes no sense. How can two people be alike when they don’t have anything in common?
I’m not sure, but as I crack one eyelid open to the sight of Dante rolling his gaze to the heavens, my half-smile blooms into a giggle.
The annoyance falls off his face, replaced by true excitement. His onyx irises light as he bounces onto the mattress beside us. I reach my hand out, but Adrian growls.
The pack alpha clears his throat almost immediately. “Apologies,” he grunts, pressing his hips to mine to remind me that he’s sealed inside my body. “I may need to ease into the guys touching you, little blue. My Alpha is feeling very—” He pauses to suppress a snarl “—possessive.”
As if punctuating his point, the thick cock locked inside my pussy somehow ticks fuller. I bite my lips, torn between a breathless laugh and an even-more-breathless moan.
Adrian’s fingers find my nape and sink into my hair—a now familiar, deliciously dominant gesture he used repeatedly throughout the night. The alpha gently tilts my head back, gazing down at me with arresting azure eyes.
Gratitude and tenderness shine under his simmering heat. But the obvious pride floating in the Mediterranean-blue pools is what undoes me.
“Good morning,” he murmurs softly. The smallest crease touches his thick brow. “How are you feeling?”
I finally manage a breath and a nod, squeaking, “I’m good. Are you okay?”
Adrian’s always beautiful, but never more so than when he truly grins. The wide flash of his white teeth dazzles me. I blink through a dizzying swoon as he replies, “I’m perfect. Because I had the perfect omega.”
Butterflies flutter in my lungs. I exhale and can’t remember how to get more air in. Instead, I just stare into him, absorbing the giddiness that comes with his approval.
Adrian’s smile melts into a sincere expression. He hums a quiet, “Thank you, sweetheart,” and kisses my forehead.
Before I cobble my melting mind back together, a rude rumble starts in my stomach. I cringe, and the pack alpha’s lips curve against my hairline.
Colt interrupts, grouchy as ever. “She has to eat , Adrian. Goddamn.”
Hmm. Is that concern I hear in Salty’s voice?
Surely not.
Dante smacks their leader’s bare shoulder. “Yeah, dude. If you won’t let me touch her, you at least have to make sure she’s fed .”
I crane my neck to glance over at the guys. Jesse meets my eyes first, flashing his shy smile as he holds up a wooden tray full of plates. A laugh bubbles out of me. “How am I supposed to eat like this ?”
Adrian drops his hands to the mattress, leveraging his strength to haul us both upright.
He balances me on his lap, stifling a groan when the position seats him even deeper within my clenching warmth.
His knot rubs at the tingling nerves buzzing around it.
I shove down a whine, my fingernails biting into his shoulders.
For a moment, I tense at the rush of perfume and slick that pour out of me. But the scents of the entire pack instantly swell to meet mine. Caramelized sugar. Sea salt and ocean air. The rich musk of leather. Mango succulence.
“Easy,” the alpha under me determines. “I’ll feed you.”
Before I can properly process how insane that image is, Dante harrumphs . “You got her all night !” he cries. “ I want to feed her.”
Jesse opens his mouth to protest, holding the tray just out of everyone else’s reach, but the saltiest alpha’s snarl cuts through their argument.
They all seem just as shocked as I am. We blink at his intense expression, waiting. He exhales hard, squaring his shoulders and hobbling to the edge of the bed.
He darts his wary gray eyes at Adrian, then sets his hand on top of the rumpled lavender duvet. Right over my lower back.
Shock reverberates through my body, but there isn’t time to feel it. A storm crackles in his irises, demanding my complete focus as he roughs out, “We want to apologize to you, Bridget. As many times as you’ll let us.”