Chapter 42
WREN
Big guy:
I left you something to wear, Bambi.
Theo:
You can definitely ignore him.
He’s supposed to be lifting weights, not on his phone.
Big guy:
What he means is “Good morning, beautiful.”
Theo:
I’ve already said good morning… in my own way.
Big guy:
Fuck.
First, you get to steal her all night? Now you gotta tell me you two were enjoying breakfast without me?
Me:
Aren’t you BOTH supposed to be working right now?
Oh my god. My cheeks burn hotter than the surface of the sun while peering at the group chat the guys have set up for us all. Especially when I think back to the way Theo woke me up with his hands roaming across my breasts and my pussy.
He really did make good on the whole devouring me morning and night promise.
After an evening of unexpectedly being treated to not one, but two knots, and then having dinner cooked for me… well, I fell asleep on Theo’s enormous couch and woke up in his bed with his massive frame encircling me.
Is there any better way to find yourself floating on a sea of bliss with strong arms wrapped around you?
To be blanketed from behind by warmth and the most intoxicating scent of ocean and coffee?
My Alpha clearly knows how to reduce me to nothing but a purely boneless mess, dragging me back to sleep.
I mean, the sizable erection prodding against my spine told me just how badly he might have needed to seek out some relief for himself…
but my scent match wasn’t interested in anything but taking care of me before having to leave for work.
After he took care of my pussy, and obliterated my sanity, he crawled up my body and whispered an instruction to go back to sleep and stay right where I was.
Swoon, much?
He’s just so goddamn strong and perfect, I’m still struggling to believe any of this is real.
Even more so after leaving me with the afterglow of an orgasm, thanks to his clever fingers and extremely skilled tongue.
Apparently, my inner Omega is a very obedient thing while still recovering from his undivided attention between my thighs.
Big guy:
Don’t forget to wear something that smells good.
AKA, like your favorite player.
*wink face*
I scoff out loud to myself while standing in the kitchen.
No question about it, I’m going to spend today wearing their clothes, but I’m stubbornly avoiding the hoodie Connor pointedly left hanging on the outside handle of the bedroom door for me. It’s specifically his number, rather than just a general Wolves training top. Cheeky shit.
I am still cuddling it against my chest, though. Hopefully, Theo doesn’t have interior security cameras, because I don’t need Connor getting all puffed up on the idea that I do like carrying his number around. The fabric is a buttery soft texture, like he’s worn it to training hundreds of times.
Damn, and now I’m seriously contemplating snuggling beneath it like a blanket for the day.
That doesn’t count as wearing it.
Just as I’m in the middle of fumbling around, figuring out how to make myself a coffee with the very expensive-looking machine I’m somewhat terrified of breaking, another text arrives, but this time it’s sent to me directly and not to the group chat.
Theo:
I gave Nikita and Gabbie the address and gate code while you were sleeping.
Told them to come over and study with you today. Make yourselves at home.
Oh my god. Could this man be any more perfect?
I send a quick thank you and promptly type and delete about ten different variations of have a nice day, miss you already, I can’t stop thinking about you. Because I don’t want to come across like a total lunatic setting up residence in his house and life.
Another ping distracts me as I’m standing with the double doors to the fridge swung open, gaping at the contents in complete awe. It’s like a fully stocked grocery store in here.
Theo:
I’ve got meetings all day, but my phone will be with me. Don’t hesitate to text or call if you need anything, my birdie girl.
Okay. Well. I’m officially a puddle.
I don’t have time to overthink my reply. The doorbell chimes several times in quick succession, followed by familiar loud giggles.
“Wren Murphy! Bitch, you had better be awake and ready to talk,” Nikita’s voice booms through the house like an Omega cannon.
Gabbie and Nikita appear in the foyer, necks craning to take in all the open-plan, airy architecture.
Theo’s house is modern, screaming simple but the type of design that costs a fortune to look that way.
All the glass and polished metal is softened by wooden accents and plush furnishings.
It’s so very him, the kind of design that wouldn’t be out of place on the beachfront if you uplifted it to the coastline.
From here, the large floor-to-ceiling glass panes overlook trees and a wintry sky.
I can only imagine how gorgeous it is when that vista is bathed in summer sunlight.
“Excuse me? This place is a palace. Tell me you’ve snooped?” Nikita holds me by the shoulders and surveys my state of disarray with a quirk playing on her lips. “Actually. Scratch that. Tell me you’ve at least bathed since becoming an Alpha’s knot receptacle?"
“You are impossible.” I flush like the cum-laden Omega harlot I am.
She grins wickedly. “I’m strangely proud of this slutty version of you, Wren Murphy. And that’s a compliment.” Her wink is exaggerated.
“You arrived before I had a chance to get dressed,” I protest, looking down at my bare legs beneath Theo’s T-shirt.
“At least you’re able to walk, and I suppose we can count our blessings that you’re wearing…
something.” She waves a dismissive hand and breezes past me.
“So, what’s the status on casing the joint?
You’ve been over everything with a fine-tooth comb since they left for a hard day’s work in rugby land, yes? ”
“No… I…”
“Of course she hasn’t.” Gabbie nudges me with her shoulder. “You’ve been in knotted bliss and pinned beneath three hundred pounds of rugby player, right?”
Clearly, my eyes going wide reveal some secrets I should be doing a much better job of concealing.
“Oh wait…” Nikita casts a surreptitious look around, as if my Alphas are lurking just out of sight, eavesdropping. “Were you on top? Yes, girl,” Nikita whisper-shouts with glee, damn near skipping her way through the house.
All I can do is groan and bury my face in my hands.
“Shiiiiiit. Well, look at you, going from Miss Never Have I Laid Eyes On A Knot Before, to the Queen of Alpha Dick Town.” Nikita throws her arms wide and spins to take the open-plan kitchen and living room in.
Gabbie doubles over, wheezing with laughter, holding her side.
“Shut up, both of you.” Turning them both by their shoulders, I prod them in the direction of the kitchen island. “I love that you’re here, but I definitely need another coffee, something to eat, and some pants before I have to endure any more of these uncouth interrogation tactics.”
“Are they as skilled with their morning grind routine as they are with handling a rugby ball?” Nikita picks up a framed photo of Theo from his playing era.
We’ve had breakfast, coffee, and somewhere in among all of that, I even managed to run a comb through my hair. Oh, and I’m at least now wearing leggings and a combination of Connor’s T-shirt underneath Theo’s sweatshirt.
“No comment,” I huff.
“Would you look at this perfection? Those cheekbones? It’s like you’ve landed the Daddy jackpot,” she pouts at me, waving the picture in my general direction. “How young do you think he was when this was taken?”
“Uhh…” My mouth goes a little dry when I peer at the image in question.
I’m met with the sight of a shirtless Theo, with sweat glistening all over his torso, hair wet against his forehead, and heavy strapping taped over his right pec, shoulder, and bicep.
On his left cheekbone, a cut is obviously fresh from the match.
Regardless of whatever pain he might have been in, there’s no hiding the jubilation in his eyes, gleaming like amber.
The photo is entirely unposed; Theo isn’t even looking at the camera, but instead his laughter is aimed at someone else out of the frame.
It’s a snapshot into the locker room, capturing a moment mid-celebration, with him sitting side by side with a familiar face, holding one handle of a giant silver, engraved championship cup bigger than half my body.
Nikita whistles and narrows her eyes at the second man in the photo.
“Damn. No offense to Daddy Brennan, but that specimen right there is fine. Much more my speed.” As I remove the frame from her hands to carefully place it back exactly where it was on the bookshelf, I realize I do know who the teammate holding the other side of the cup is.
Coach Robinson wears matching team shorts and an equally dazzling smile, with one arm in the air and a finger pointed to the roof. Number one.
“Where’s the third one?” Gabbie wanders over to join us, cradling her notebook and coffee.
That question immediately sets me on edge. Oh, shit. “What do you mean?” I feign like I don’t know what she could possibly be talking about.
“You said Scotland had a roommate who was also moving in?” she hums, entirely innocent in her questioning, because yes, I did mention that.
It’s just my own brain and Omega-ness being all over the place where these Alphas are concerned.
Call me the overthinker of the year when it comes to these three men, I guess.
“Oh… umm… yeah.” I twist the sleeve on Theo’s top that I’m wearing. “That’s Atlas Palamo. Ace.”
“Wait.” Nikita gasps. “As in Number thirteen? Ace, who is your brother’s best friend?” This time, her screech is no longer at whisper-level volume. It’s an outright noise of delight.
“One and the same.” My nod is resigned as I grimace and walk across the room to sink into the couch.