Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ariana chews on her lower lip, and I want to take over for her. They’re just so biteable, plump, and look ridiculously soft. I bet she uses one of those weird lip glosses that have sugar pieces in them, so it feels like sand got kicked onto your mouth. That’s gotta be why they look so good.
Will she taste like the sweet cream and citrus scent that I can’t get enough of?
“You don’t have to tell us anything, baby.” Grant takes her hands in his. “This isn’t a quid pro quo thing.”
“I’m a pervert, but not that much of one. A consensual pervert, if you will.” I lean back on my palms, still perched on the table in front of her. If she moved her chair a little, she’d be between my knees.
I hope she does it.
My Omega takes a deep breath, and when she exhales, her green eyes meet my dark ones. “No, I should tell you.” She looks nervous to, but she’s a big girl. If she thinks she needs to, I’m not going to stop her. She’s allowed to make decisions for herself.
“You guys know I’m a virgin, right?”
“Not a lot of people to pick up when you’re stuck in your house.” Grant says it without judgment and squeezes her hand. “That’s not something that matters to us. Virginity is a social construct invented to make people feel like their worth is between their thighs.”
She turns her hand over, lacing their fingers together. It makes my heart want to explode. I think she actually meant it when she said she was going to give us a chance if she’s holding his hand.
People don’t just hold hands all willy-nilly.
“Oh, I know. I bring it up because… This is theoretical, okay? I’ve never done it, so it may need to stay in the realm of fantasy.”
I scoot closer to the edge of the table, because I already know this is going to be good. “Yeah, some things don’t translate out of fantasy, I get that.”
“Right. So you know how, when in heat, an Omega is begging, desperate? Like insatiable? Maybe even a little annoying? I want to be treated like that all the time.”
Grant’s eyes dart to me with a glare that tells me not to speak right now, which is fair. The things I want to say would have her running.
He pulls their hands to his mouth and kisses the back of hers. “You want to be horny all the time?”
She tugs on the ends of her hair, looking up at the ceiling as if she can’t bear to look at us.
“No. I want to be treated as if I am begging for it at all times. Kind of like free use, but add in a little degradation about how needy I am.” She drops her voice and closes her eyes.
Does she think that if she can’t see us, we can’t see her?
“I want to be told how much I want it. How you’re a little annoyed with me because I wouldn’t stop pleading to be fucked, and that it seems like that’s all I’m good for.”
She is too close to being between my knees when my cock is this hard. My knot is already trying to swell. If she were to glance down, there is no way I could hide the impact her words are having on me.
I try to hold my tongue, but I can’t. I can’t let the three of us sit in silence when she was so vulnerable with us.
“I haven’t heard of that one before, but I don’t think any of us will have a hard time accommodating you.”
Grant mouths ‘Accommodating?’ at me. I’m trying to be a gentleman, here. I think if I told her that if that’s the case, I’m going to take her right fucking now, she’d run away.
Wait, would she want to be chased?
Oh fuck, I hope she wants to be chased.
“As I said, it’s all theoretical. But yeah. That’s my ‘thing’, I guess.”
I can’t help myself. I thought I didn’t want her between my thighs, but I have changed my mind. I hook my legs around her chair and haul her closer. “And Derrick knew?”
“Yeah. I brought it up once when I was in heat, apparently. I don’t remember telling him, but I knew that he was not making it up.”
Oh shit, orgasm denial as punishment for the imagined begging.
Forced orgasms to help satisfy her because she’s so needy.
There are so many opportunities to be had with this. Is it presumptuous to say I know I can help her out with this fantasy?
Probably.
But I definitely can.
“Thank you for telling us.” Grant squeezes her hand and gives her one of those coy smiles that photographers love to see when he poses for them. The one that says, “I know you want to fuck me, but I’ll let you pretend you don’t.”
I clap, startling both of them. “Well, I think we gave the show some good footage. We could hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the day, and they’ll still be able to fill an episode, no problem. I wonder if that means they’ll let us skip today’s challenge.”
Ariana stands and gathers our empty cups. “No way they’ll let us skip. Have you ever even watched the show?”
“In fact, I have not.” I shrug and trot after her like an obsessed puppy. “I didn’t even know about it until they contacted us.”
“And you didn’t think to binge older seasons to know what you were agreeing to?”
I’m doing my best not to stare at her ass while she fills the dishwasher, but it is a futile effort. Even in baggy pajama pants, I can see its delicious shape.
Would she squeal if I sank my teeth into it?
Grant follows us into the kitchen and leans against the fridge.
He’s blocking the camera on the door, but I don’t think he cares.
“The others didn’t care what the show was like because we’d get to meet you.
It could have been one of those shows where we have to eat pie with our hands behind our backs, and they wouldn’t have cared. ”
Ariana tosses a rag at him, hitting him square in the face. “Don’t put that out there, or that may be our challenge! That sounds like my nightmare.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Guys. You know they’re going to do it now, right? You put it out there. They’re gonna do it.”
She waves off my words. “Nah, it’s highly unlikely. That is too lowbrow for the show.”
They did, in fact, make us eat pies with our hands behind our backs.
When Bradley came on the television and told us to check outside the door, he had this glint in his eyes that told me it was exactly what we didn’t want.
At least the prize was worth it.
A phone call home. Ten minutes in the interview room. And Grant and I got approval to combine our time to call one person.
Grant is sitting on my lap in the tiny interview closet as we wait for the producers to patch Derrick into the speaker system.
“What are you going to ask him?” He wiggles deeper into my lap. I’m so on edge from our conversation with Ariana that I don’t know if I should force him to sit still to avoid riling me up again or pull him closer and grind him against my cock.
“No idea. I figured he’ll have more questions than we do.”
Before Grant can respond, the line clicks on.
“Guys!”
“Hey, Alpha.” Even though it’s only been two days, I know Grant is missing Derrick. He’s crawled into my bed to sleep both nights. “Are you doing okay?”
“Uh… Well. Define okay.”
“Not broken? Not crying? What else could it mean?” I try to turn so that Grant and I face the camera, not the speaker, but it’s hard not to look at it when I talk.
“Well. I quit my job.”
Grant’s jaw drops open. “Why would you do that?”
“Ariana told me she lives in Hollywood, Florida. So I’m moving to Hollywood. I’ve got a short-term rental right now.”
“Oh, hell yeah.” I can do my job from anywhere. And if, for some reason, my company doesn’t accept a change of address, data analyst jobs aren’t that hard to find. “So we need to put the house on the market.”
“I’d love it if you guys came with me, but I’m not going to force you. Grant would need a job transfer, and he’d lose his modeling gig.”
Our Beta does not look bothered by that at all. “Hollywood isn’t far from Miami, right? Miami is kind of a fashion hub. They have their own fashion week. And I’ll apply for a transfer at work. Let’s do it.”
“Just like that? You two are sure you’re all in?” I’m a little offended that Derrick feels the need to ask that. We’ve all been in love with Ariana for years. Why would that have changed while spending time with her?
I run my fingers through Grant’s hair to give me something to do. “Of course we are. She’s everything. We’ve really been connecting.”
“Good. Because the movers are already on their way.”