Chapter 54 #2
Right when I’m about to open my mouth, she beats me to it. Her fingers cling tighter, as if she’s worried she’ll sink to the floor if I’m not there to cling to.
“We kissed,” Wren blurts out, cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson.
An echoing silence hangs between the three of us, those words ricocheting around and around inside my brain.
Do I care? Do I mind finding out this way?
Do I feel anything but an immediate spark of hopefulness that they’ve found a connection?
After all, this is a development I’ve been secretly wishing for all along.
With a tilt of my head, I take in Ace’s stony expression. “Is that true?” Of course, he’s playing the ice-man card, giving nothing away.
He clears his throat. “What if it was?” The muscle in his clean-shaven jaw tics madly.
As I study him, my stride shifts forward so that we’re chest-to-chest. “So, what’s the plan here, huh?
” With one arm protectively looped around Wren’s body, I keep her pressed against my side, but step into his space.
We’re close enough that his forearms brush up against the front of my suit.
An invisible line zaps from that fraction of barely there contact, straight down my groin, to tug on my knot.
“How were you gonna play that off? Sneak around and steal kisses when it suits you, then pretend it’s nothing? ”
“No.” His grunted reply comes quickly. I brace myself, sending up a silent prayer to the fucking gods of rugby that he doesn’t finish that statement with something asinine like it meant nothing.
When he doesn’t volunteer anything more, I don’t know whether he’s going to turn on his heel and walk away.
Just as I square my jaw, mentally preparing for the rejection that will sting twice as bad—a cut for my girl, and a slice to the heart for me—I realize he’s rooted to the spot.
Holding my breath, I watch the way his hazel gaze wavers, dropping to Wren momentarily, before snapping back to me.
“Are you gonna be part of this pack or keep shielding yourself?” I ask, voice turned husky.
“Not exactly sure I’m what you would call pack material.”
I shake my head at him subtly. “Pretty sure it’s up to Wren.
” Meeting and holding his eyes, they’re filled with the all too familiar competitive edge I know from all our time living and training and playing alongside each other.
“In my book, Omega decisions come first before anything her Alphas might think.” My tongue pokes against the inside of my cheek as I wait for his reaction to that.
“And what if she doesn’t choose?” Silence hangs in place of what I know he means. What if she doesn’t choose me.
“I think it’s about more than simply being down to anything I might have opinions on,” Wren whispers.
“What are you saying, Bambi?” I’m admittedly taken off guard by the tone in her voice. Something inquisitive sits there. A curious cat flicking its tail while waiting for us to get our bullshit out in the open and make a move in whatever direction this is headed.
“If this is something you both want…” she breathes the words hesitantly, the statement left dangling for us to reach out and take hold.
Ace is a stone fucking wall. “Is it?” He cocks his head to one side, glaring at me like I’m the problem, not like he’s the one going around fucking kissing my scent match and not telling me.
Not like he hasn’t been right there, driving me out of my mind with having a stupid unrequited crush on him for what feels like forever.
“Well, fuck… I don’t exactly know, do I?” My heart speeds up with each passing second. “Time to decide, Palamo.” I drag my free hand through my hair.
He doesn’t move, but his eyes shift. They flicker down to Wren, and I see it. I see the moment they soften for her, because all of this unaffected asshole front he’s putting on is just that. It’s a front, and it can’t hide the truth.
“Are you gonna give in to this or not?” I somehow keep my voice level even when my pulse climbs dramatically.
“You don’t have to.” Wren seems almost apologetic. “Not on my account. I don’t want to ruin anything more than I already have.”
Fuck that. My girl doesn’t need to feel ashamed of who she is or her designation.
“I think you need to prove something first.” My mouth goes dry as I step into Ace, acting on pure adrenaline and instinct.
Possibly about to be punched in the jaw, I really don’t goddamn know.
As I do, this time I let my hand fall from Wren so that I can grab hold of his suit jacket and prevent him from running.
“Here’s what I see. I think you need to front the fuck up. ”
“You don’t need anything from me.” He grinds the words, but his steely gaze bores into mine. I watch his Adam’s apple bob, and my brain goes fucking blank.
“I need…” A coarse-edged murmur leaves my throat, snagging on that word. “Need…”
Need. Need. Need.
My lips find his, canceling out whatever tumbling stream of consciousness was about to come out of my mouth.
He stiffens for the briefest second before his arms drop, clasping onto my own, gripping me tightly by the forearms. Our kiss goes from being a gentle brush of wet lips and my stubbled beard against his warm skin, to sinking, falling, fucking slipping into being totally consumed.
I’m sideswiped, my legs brutally taken out from under me, by the way it feels impossibly perfect to finally connect in this way.
After wondering what it would feel like to kiss Ace for what seems like an eternity of knowing him, he tastes like oranges and oak and the faintest hint of beer on his tongue.
He tastes like we were meant to do this so long ago, like we were fools without a compass or map to guide us, and yet here we are, finally finding our moment to discover each other for the first time.
I nip at his lips and angle our mouths together, eagerly swallowing the gravelly, sexy noises he makes when I push my tongue into his mouth. When I go there, demanding entrance, he gives me the same in return, sliding his tongue with mine.
The sense of him being everywhere, pressed hard against me, smelling so damn good, and tasting even better than the finest dram of aged whiskey, leaves me lightheaded.
Our tongues explore and glide, my hips rock against his, and my erection damn near splits my pants in desperation.
The second that contact happens—the knowledge that he’s hard and I’m hard, and we’re both needing more than just a kiss—pure desperation slams into me.
It’s like the blood-pumping anticipation of kickoff, when that match-day whistle goes, and we unleash every ounce of controlled, pent-up drive and single-mindedness to score.
Tension swirls around our bodies like a thick cloud, and I don’t know if it’s just us or if Wren’s perfume is building between the three of us like a blanket of need and greedy desire to have each other.
To be together.
Fuck, to actually have him woven into this, with me, with her, with us. That notion alone is intoxicating.
Are we a pack? I don’t understand the first thing about forming one.
All I know is that nothing has felt as right as having both him and Wren right here; the three of us all being primed for a release is the only thing on my mind.
Other than a brief twinge of guilt that Brennan should be here with us.
I want him here, but I’ll royally fuck everything up if I pump the brakes.
My hands slide down Ace’s hard frame. Tracing the hidden muscles and solid, bulky strength I know is there. The guy who can bench a PB of 408 pounds and single-handedly hoist a 250-pound teammate above his head by his shorts.
Making my way down to his waistband, I don’t fucking stop, don’t dare to, because one thing I know for certain about Ace is that he won’t hesitate to tell me if he doesn’t want this to go any further.
So I’m going to pin my ears back and fly for the line.
I’m not going to let this opportunity pass us by without giving it a shot.
The fact that his mouth is still moving against mine, with those masculine growls and groans mingling with my own, tells me he’s okay with this.
I have to cling to hope.
And I have to taste him properly.
“Umpphhhfff. Fuck.” His chest heaves as I start to forcefully go after his pants. “Gonna show me what you need?” His hips buck as he growls at me, the subtle arch giving me better access.
“Showing you what you need.” I bite down on his bottom lip, tugging it between my teeth until he hisses. Grinning at the internal curse I know he’s giving me, I suck the site of the sting before letting him go with a last lick at his mouth.
Then I move.
I drop to my knees, shoving his dress slacks low on his hips as I go. His boxer briefs are next, pushed down until his cock springs free, putting that bulging knot and his balls on display, as the waistband sits beneath that fucking playground I want to take my time tracing with my tongue.
I swallow thickly, eye to eye with his impressive, fat, veined cock for the first time.
Well, not exactly the first time. I’ve seen it countless times before in the showers and locker room… but I’ve never truly looked. Because you don’t do that to your teammate, your roommate, your partner on the field.
Now, however…
“It’s not gonna take care of itself.” The length of him kicks as his voice descends into a gritty, deeper register, all while looking down at me with that hunger swirling freely in his expression.
A ravenous stare, turning his eyes nearly black with arousal, claims me.
I’m smugger than I have any right to be, knowing that his slit is leaking freely, precum dribbling with eagerness to be licked and sucked and stroked.