Chapter 48
Milton
My foot bounces with nervous energy.
“Dude, can you fucking stop? I can’t concentrate,” Lincoln growls.
Concentrate. Him. More like me. Bayleigh’s on a date with Korbin. Alone. I know they need this, but I can’t help but worry that he’ll stick his foot in his mouth in some way and screw this up for all of us.
Has he made progress?
Yes. He’s admitted his feelings for Bayleigh. Smoothed shit over with Benton. And he’s even learning some signs so that he can communicate with her.
But he’s still Korbin, and sometimes he speaks without thinking.
“You know, you wouldn’t be worrying so much if you’d find something to occupy your time.
Maybe join me in learning some signs,” Lincoln boasts, with just a hint of cockiness seeping through.
We all know he has far more skill in signing than us.
But he started first, so that’s a little unfair if you ask me.
“Fine, teach me something,” I finally relent.
“Okay. Do you know the ABCs?”
I shake my head.
“Well, that’s a good place to start. Then even if you don’t know how to say a word, you can spell it.”
We go through them one by one until I know them perfectly.
My chest puffs out with pride, knowing that I did this for my girl.
That I’m bridging the communication gap between us.
But even with being able to sign, I still love the little notes we shared on our date.
I have them tucked away in a binder in my room so that I can look at them whenever I want. Which, is every fucking day.
“Not bad. Ready to tackle some more words? Phrases?”
“Fuck yeah. Why should you be gatekeeping everything?” I swallow, biting the inside of my jaw. “How do you think the date is going?”
Lincoln just sits there for a minute, then blows out a deep breath. “I think it’s going well. Korbin won’t do anything intentionally to fuck it up. And if he does, then we’ll be there to play mediator and fix it. That’s what a pack does. What brothers do.”
I nod my head. And we continue working. Lincoln teaches me everything he knows, and I soak it up like a sponge. Then we pull up videos and start learning something new.
Our heads pop up when we hear the door opening.
“We’re back!” Korbin shouts for us, and Lincoln and I both sit upright, waiting for them to enter through the kitchen. We don’t breathe, a tinge of fear festering that the date went like shit.
I feel it before I even see her—her lighter scent drifting into the room, the warmth blooming under her skin.
When Bayleigh steps into the room, she’s glowing. She has a smile that stretches from ear to ear, and she’s holding Korbin’s hand, her eyes looking up at him like he hung the moon just for her.
It’s the same look I’ve seen on her face when she stares at Lincoln, the way she does with me.
All fear and doubt about us being a pack fades away, replaced by excitement for what’s to come.
There’s no jealousy; instead, something else stirs in me.
Something warm. Proud. Anticipatory. Like seeing her happy loosens something in my chest instead of tightening it.
Is this how a pack feels about their omega? Is this what I…no, we’ve been missing?
Thank fuck Lincoln ran into her at the rink. Spilled her popcorn and then decided to replace it and sit with her. Claiming her even then for him. For us.
Korbin pulls her into his arms, kissing her softly on the lips, then tilts her head up and says something to her, before releasing her and heading upstairs.
Lincoln smiles at her, but continues practicing the lesson on his video, leaving me to take full advantage of the moment.
I jump up from the couch, stepping over Lincoln’s extended legs, and make my way toward her.
“Hey,” I say softly, brushing my fingers along her wrist. “Come with me?”
She nods, cheeks pink, and lets me lead her up the stairs to my room.
The room is dim when we step inside, the only light coming from the Scentsy burning across the room. Excitement courses through my veins, and I wonder if she feels the same. I don’t bother turning on the light; there’s enough in the room so she can read my lips.
“How’d it go?” I ask, trying, yet failing, not to sound like I’m holding my breath in anticipation of the worst. Her body language tells me it went well, but the alpha in me needs to hear it.
Bayleigh blushes deeper. She signs something quick and shy. But I don’t understand it.
“I’m not that good yet, Baby. I have no clue what you said.” Fuck me, I really need to get a rush on learning sign language. I make a promise to myself that every free moment I have not on the ice or with her is spent learning.
She says the words as she signs.
“It was amazing. We had a good time. But, I missed you.”
My heart races, faster than it has during a tied game, in overtime, as when I’m planted in the crease waiting for the shot that decides everything.
“You… missed me?”
She looks down, embarrassed, but nods once.
Something overtakes me. I step closer to her, cupping her jaw gently with one hand, tipping her head upward. “Bayleigh, Sweetheart—”
She leans into my touch. And I kiss her, forgetting what I was going to say.
Slow at first. Like I’m afraid she might vanish if I breathe too hard. But when she curls her fingers into my shirt, pulling me closer, I can’t help but deepen the kiss as the softness it once held turns into hunger.
Her minty scent surrounds me, and I want more. My hand settles on her waist. The other slides up her spine while pressing her body closer to mine, trembling just enough for me to feel.
“Stay with me tonight?” I ask, pulling back enough so that she sees my lips.
She nods, and it’s all I need. I pull away from her, long enough to step across the room and lock the door. Tonight is for us, and I don’t want anyone interrupting it.
“The other night, it was so hard not to take you. But I knew it wasn’t the right place. But now…” She places her fingers over my lips, stopping me mid-sentence.
Slowly, she reaches down, taking hold of the hem of her sweater, and pulls it over her head, dropping it to the floor. She’s left in a black lacy bra. Next, she slips off her shoes, hooks her fingers in her leggings and pulls them down.
I lift my finger to my mouth, biting down on it at the sight before me. She’s absolutely gorgeous and owns the moment.
“I want to finish what we started,” she says, her voice husky with need.
We move toward each other at the same time, as if there’s a string attached to each of us, pulling us closer.
My clothes and the rest of hers fall away, not rushed, not sloppy—like each piece removed is an offering. Finally, we stand before each other naked. She’s stunning. And she’s going to be mine. Ours. All we need for her to do is accept us as her mates, her pack, her alphas.
My hand reaches out, my fingers touching her carefully, gliding across her skin, mapping the lines of her body with warm steadiness.
My lips follow, brushing fire-soft trails down her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her stomach.
She trembles beneath every touch, little breaths catching in her throat, fingers clutching in my hair as she unravels.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” I mouth, before resting my forehead against hers.
She shakes her head. Her hands slide around my back as she moves me with her as she steps backward toward the bed. Her lips crash onto mine.
We sink onto the bed, limbs tangled, breath mingling, hearts beating wild and in sync.
I raise up, taking in the sight of her below me, her hair splayed around her head, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with her breaths, the prickle of sweat beading on her skin. She’s a goddess.
My fingers trail down her chest, through the valley between her breasts, over her stomach. Her back arches as I reach her clit, rubbing small, firm circles. She moans, her perfume seeping out, dancing around me, begging for more. Urging me to take her, claim her, mark her.
But not yet. I won’t bond with her until she asks me. Until she’s ready.
Her hand reaches up, touching my cheek lightly as she guides my face toward her. “I want you inside me.” Her voice is husky as she speaks.
“Not until I taste you.”
I move between her legs, my eyes really seeing her slick, glistening pussy.
My tongue sticks out, flattening as it glides through her folds, taking her juices with it.
Delicious. I slip my finger into her opening, crooking the tip so that it drags along her G-spot when I pull out.
Swirling my tongue around her clit, another digit slips in, my fingers thrusting inside her to a beat only I can hear.
She squirms beneath me, but before my cock ever enters her, I want her to orgasm all over my tongue.
Each thrust of my fingers goes deeper until she’s pressing her legs firmly against me. Slick soaks her thighs, and my face is covered. Then it happens. She comes. Her juices flood my hands as she all but suffocates me between her creamy thighs.
Killed by pussy. What better way is there to go?
Everything between us becomes slow, deep, intimate—my touches steady, my breath uneven, body gentle around hers. No rush. Just closeness. Sweetness. The kind of intimacy that feels like a confession in itself.
When her heartbeat finally calms beneath my palms, I lift my head, and move up her body, kissing her with my slick-coated lips. She hums into my mouth, and my cock begs to be inside of her.
“I want you,” she whimpers. “Now.”
It’s all I need to hear. She’s a vision lying on my bed. I can’t wait until this is forever.
I take hold of my cock, running it through her slick folds until I reach her hole and push inside of her. I’m not planning to knot her tonight. No, tonight is for us to enjoy and explore each other.
Her legs wrap around my waist as if moving on instinct.
I brace my hand on the bed beside her head, leaning down so I can run my nose along the length of her neck, inhaling her scent.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to last long.
Her hands slip around my waist, her nails dragging along my flesh.
Her own way of marking me, claiming me without a bond.
I can feel my balls becoming heavy with my cum, a familiar tingling erupting in my belly. I’m so close, but I want her to come again. I shift my body, reaching my hand between our sweaty bodies and stroke her clit. That’s all it takes to send her over the edge.
She comes apart first, clinging to me, gasping for breath. I thrust into her as I hold her tightly, breath catching, praising how perfect she is, how good, how wanted, even though I know she’s not going to hear me.
And when I follow—shuddering, face buried against her skin—it feels less like losing control and more like falling into place. I collapse onto her, making sure to shift just slightly so I’m not crushing her with my weight.
Only when we’ve both caught our breath, do I pull out of her, and kiss her softly on the lips.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” She yawns, but nods.
I head straight to the bathroom, turning the hot water on in the sink then looking for something to clean her with.
Picking up a washcloth, I run it under the water, making sure it’s not too hot, and carefully clean myself before getting a fresh one for Bayleigh.
When I go back into the bedroom, I take care of cleaning her, not sure how sore she may be.
I know that before Lincoln she was a virgin, and I’m not sure how many times they have been together intimately since then.
I toss the rag into the laundry basket and then climb in beside her.
I gather her against my chest, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other smoothing slowly through her hair. Her breaths grow even, her body relaxing fully into mine. I kiss her temple, then the crown of her head.
“Sleep,” I tell her, but I can tell by her breathing she’s already doing that.
I stay awake long after, memorizing the shape of her hand on my chest, the weight of her body curled against mine, the soft rhythm of her breathing.
And as I listen to her sleep, I know—without a doubt—that this changed everything between us.