Chapter 14 #3
He laughs loudly. “Well, technically you’re my scent match. Is it really kidnapping?” He leans a little closer, eyes glinting. “Besides, I’m fairly sure you’d be smitten with your captor before we’d even cleared the property line.”
My stomach gives another stupid little flutter because the annoying thing is that he’s probably right. Sitting here with him, being fed French toast and shamelessly flirting with him, feels right, and my dream fades farther away.
“Well.” I nudge his arm with mine, unable to stop smiling. “Thanks for last night, which was wild, and for this morning too.”
“Hey.” Grayson sets his fork down, and the teasing slips from his face.
“This little act you’ve got going, keeping your distance, running off, pretending you’re still deciding…
” He shakes his head slowly, watching me with an infuriating certainty.
“Hate to break it to you, little bird, but we’re way past that.
You’ve already shown us your cards. And we’re only going to manage living without you for so long before we come collect. ”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He just studies me calmly, and I hate how these Alphas keep reaching straight past every excuse I make and dragging the truth into the light. Mostly because I’m starting to suspect they know what I want before I’m brave enough to admit it myself.
“Have you guys never heard of subtlety?” I ask.
A huge yawn suddenly sounds behind us, and I turn to find Wolf wandering into the hallway with his arms stretched over his head, apparently unconcerned with the effect he’s having on anyone.
He’s wearing baggy pajama pants that hang so low on his hips they expose a dark trail of hair above the waistband and the very obvious heavy weight of his cock behind the thin fabric.
My eyes drop immediately, lingering far longer than they should, and then somehow refuse to come back up.
God, how big is he?
“For fuck’s sake, man, we’re eating.” Grayson doesn’t even bother turning around. “Put that trunk away. Can’t you see Lucy’s already struggling?”
His laugh explodes through the kitchen, and my head whips toward him. “I was not—”
“Sure.”
I shoot Grayson a murderous look, but he’s still laughing. Wolf’s grinning because it’s clear that with these men, there will be no dignity, subtlety, private thought, or inconvenient feelings. Forget successfully tucking away and pretending I don’t exist. They blare it out to the whole world.
Wolf strolls toward us anyway, not fixing his pants, all rough hair and heavy-lidded, just-woke-up eyes, and he leans over the counter between us. He snags two slices of the French toast, drizzles them with syrup, and eats like a beast, a droplet running down his bare chest.
Obviously I’m staring, then I catch Grayson watching me.
“You want to lick it, don’t you?” he says. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
“Shut up.” I stab a blueberry. “Not everything has to be said out loud. Some things can just live in your head.”
And Wolf, of course, turns and offers me his chest, syrup and all. “Here you go, little bird. Lick. You know you want to.”
And because they all expect me to blush and refuse, I twist in my seat and lift my chin. Two can play at this game. So I lean over and drag my tongue up that solid chest, the sweetness of the syrup and the faint salt of his skin hitting my tongue at once, and it’s genuinely, stupidly addictive.
Wolf hisses. “Fuck, do it again.” And he tips more syrup onto himself on purpose.
“You think I won’t?” And then I’m resting the flat of my hand on his side, where his skin is on fire, my mouth dragging over the dripping syrup, lapping it up.
I can’t deny that it’s damn sexy. Then I pull back, laughing, and next thing I know, Grayson’s shirt is off and he’s pouring syrup down his own chest, approaching me.
“My turn,” he demands.
I giggle, both of them right there, chests carved and immaculate, actual gods, honestly, and I say, “Well. It’s only fair.” I lick Grayson’s chest clean too, taking my time around his nipple, which has him moaning. I’m buzzing all over.
“Okay, why did nobody wake me if we’re doing chest-licking?” Roman is crossing the room in jeans he’s clearly just dragged on, hair a mess, and damn, he’s beautiful. I spin in my stool back to my plate, suddenly starving.
The three of them crowd around the counter too, all of them pawing at the food, and the entire time, they keep touching me, a hand at my back, a knee against mine as they sit down, fingers grazing my arm. I can’t pretend I don’t love every second of the attention.
Grayson hasn’t said one word about me trying to leave this morning, about the crying, the panic, and I love him a little for that.
“So,” Grayson says around a mouthful of food. “Our little bird here mentioned she might consider us all moving in together.”
I choke on my tea. “I never said that.”
“We talked about it. That’s basically you saying it.”
“That’s not how words work,” I tease. “You said it, and then I very deliberately didn’t answer.”
“It makes sense to move in together,” Roman says, putting it out there. “We’re bound now. We’ll start calling to each other, and when your heat comes, we’ll need to be close.”
“Whoa. Okay, hold your horses. Let’s all calm down. There’s no heat conversation happening, as that’s not for ages. Geez. What’s next, pregnancy?” I roll my eyes and drain my mug.
“Funny you say that,” Wolf begins, “because we were going to raise breeding…”
I burst out laughing, except none of them are laughing with me. “You three need to calm all the way down. I’m barely surviving this situation as it is and still need to come to terms with it. Plus, there’s no rush.”
They nod, then just sit there staring at me with these soft, hungry puppy-dog eyes.
They’re going to ruin me. And it’s not just the looks.
It’s that I feel them, all three, their desires and their patience pressing in around me through the air, crowding close, and I’m working so hard to ignore it, to keep my head above it, and it’s like trying not to feel the sun.
Grayson leans over and runs his thumb along my cheek, then puts it in his mouth, and I realize I had syrup there. “You’re concentrating too hard,” he adds. “Just breathe.”
And I really do try, sitting here in a cozy kitchen with three Alphas.
But under it is the memory of Jerry turning his back and walking into the trees in my dream, and the three black wolves ringed around me with their pale yellow eyes. I can’t shake the sensation that, no matter how good this is, the dream wasn’t only a dream.
That it was a warning not to get my hopes up.