Chapter 76
THEO
Morning comes too quickly, bringing forth a ragged groan as I stretch and readjust my groggy head on the pillow. Well, I attempt to at any rate. As I rub at my eyes, knowing I have to get up any minute now, the drifting haze of everything from last night comes in to greet me.
Before we had all climbed into bed—once we finally made it back to the house at god only knows what hour of the morning—I undertook a determined battle to ensure proper aftercare for our Omega. Well, for her, and for all of us, I suppose.
While the moment was perfect, making sure four exhausted, blissed-out bodies had taken the time to shower, hydrate, and climb into my bed, we ended up a pile of limbs and all immediately dropped into the deepest sleep I think any of us has had for a long time.
On one side of me, Wren’s blonde curls fan across the bedsheets.
On the other, I’ve ended up with a giant Scot.
His face is turned my way, soft and slightly crumpled with sleep.
I don’t dare move just yet, because the two of them look so peaceful, and I can’t bring myself to cut this feeling short.
Finding myself with them both curled at my side is something truly special, the kind of lazy morning with filtered light streaming past a crack in the curtains, and their scents coiling through my awareness, putting me utterly at ease.
This life as a pack is already more than I could have ever hoped for, and we’ve hardly started building something solid and secure together. We’re still a long way from the moment we can finally live freely without cause for concern.
Behind Wren, Ace’s big shoulders shift ever so slightly, but he and her are both still sleeping heavily, their breaths steady and in time with each other.
He has Wren cuddled against his chest, her soft exhales puffing out, cheeks and lips flushed with color.
It’s hard to know where one scent ends and the other begins as each of those notes intertwines like the bedsheets twisted between all of our bodies.
Connor and I are kind of tangled, his muscled legs intertwined with my own, heat radiating off his chest.
And in a new development of our joint bond with Wren, we’re more connected now that the two of them have had their own moment together. Even though he’s still drifting in slumber, I can feel the contentment and calm in every rise and fall of his cavernous chest.
I suppose that’s the most notable thing rolling through my brain as I gradually wake up and a silent yawn escapes me.
There’s been something buzzing between us, a subtle tug that feels utterly genuine in our connection, yet it was hard to pin down exactly what that was before now.
Until last night, I wasn’t sure if all I saw was another Alpha who I trusted and cared about because he’s been here with me doing this since the beginning.
Except, now that he’s also bonded with our Omega, that sensation has only intensified.
The clarity of that warmth inside my chest is so much stronger than that.
As unexpected as all of this might be, I can’t deny the pull I have to Connor. Their bond has confirmed one question I had lingering in the back of my mind… I’m not solely drawn to him because he cares for Wren. I’m attracted to him because it’s him.
“I know I’m pretty… but you can stop staring now.” His accent is thick with sleep, words squeezing out of the side of his mouth as he hugs his pillow tighter.
“We need to get up,” I grumble and drink in the sight of his rounded shoulders, the glint of his gold chain, that undulation of his spine leading down to his bare, toned ass.
He’s a work of art, a specimen of muscle, and I could very much get used to waking up to the sight of his body spread out, languid and relaxed at my side each morning.
“Five more minutes,” he pouts, but cracks one eye open to fix me with the kind of gaze I know for certain has allowed him to get away with murder many times over.
“Start making a habit of that, and you’ll spend five long years begging Coach to give you a single second of game time,” I say quietly.
He lifts his head up off the pillow, creases lining his face adorably.
Connor looks so much younger, so much like the bright-eyed rookie I remember signing when he first moved from Scotland.
“They’re still asleep?” His brows pull together as he takes in the sight of Ace’s brown skin, all his tattoos, and Wren’s pale complexion wrapped in his strong hold.
“Christ, they look so good together. Now that’s one way to start each morning.
” His big hand drags through his hair, ruffling it into a wild array of curls sticking on end.
“C’mon… we can give them a few more minutes. You? Not so much. I need you to move your ass so I can climb out that side.” I nudge his foot with mine.
Fortunately, he cooperates. Somehow, Connor manages to gracefully unfurl all those long limbs and powerful muscles with a lightness that belies his imposing frame.
He rolls out of bed quietly, without sending everyone else flying like they’re on a trampoline.
I suppose these expensive-as-hell athlete mattresses are all they’re hyped up to be after all.
We both move silently around the room, I’m mindful to swipe my clothes and phone on the way to the bathroom.
To my surprise, Connor joins me, rather than going to his own room.
He gets dressed at my side, pulling on a T-shirt and gray sweatpants that cling perilously low on his trim hips.
As he stretches, yawning like some sort of Celtic lion let loose in my en suite, his tall frame hunches over and proceeds to splash water everywhere while washing his face.
The whole time, I’m stuck in some sort of Alpha trance.
My fingers work at doing up the zipper of my jeans, buttoning the waistband, but my eyes never stray from him.
Every time he reaches up, that trail of dark hair scattered over his lower abs is on display, disappearing below the soft material, leading to the outline of every inch of that weighty cock hanging between his legs.
With the way he runs his wet fingers through his hair in an effort to tame his roguish locks, his abs bunch and flex, along with his biceps.
The fact that this man was in my bed and practically in my arms barely five minutes ago is giving me too many reasons to drag him back there. To say fuck it all, to avoid the world and responsibilities, and certainly sidestep the need to go and meet up with Coach for our usual debrief after a game.
Who needs to be at the pool for a team recovery session, when I’ve got an Omega who I would much prefer to lick until she wakes up with her thighs trembling around my head, and an Alpha I’d love to have moaning without restraint as he thrusts past my lips.
Seeing him and Ace together last night certainly illuminated a lot for me.
“Well… uhhh…” Connor clears his throat.
Our gazes lock in the mirror.
I reach out to grab my cap and shove it on backward, but the air grows thick between us with the undeniable sexual tension racing through our newly formed bond.
We’re standing in my bathroom together, on a morning just like every other when I’ve gotten ready to meet the team for recovery day, and this is without a doubt the first time I’ve ever felt the urge to say fuck it and blow it off.
The feelings simmering there are undeniable. The intensity between us isn’t something either of us can ignore anymore.
The moment Connor’s gaze dips to my mouth, I don’t stop to think.
My fist closes in the soft cotton in the front of his T-shirt, and I tug. Our mouths collide with a pull I doubt we’d be able to fight any longer, even if we survived this moment. His kiss is warm, the contrast between soft lips and sharp stubble as he smiles against my mouth.
He lets me lick at the seam of his lips, a little tentative in seeing how far he wants this to go. I’m more than aware he crossed into new territory with Ace last night. I don’t want to push him, but goddamn does it feel good to feel him meet me in this.
Our mouths angle together, and I press my tongue forward. It’s as if we’ve done this before. The easy glide of laps against each other, tasting and teasing, and Connor gives a little nip on my bottom lip in reply.
That pulls a rueful groan from me, which is met with another of those wicked grins.
“Now that’s something extra to look forward to each day,” he speaks against my lips, but I feel his hand moving.
When I drop my gaze to the side, not quite prepared to let our kiss end so abruptly, I see that Connor has pulled out his phone.
My brows tug together as I draw back a fraction and sigh. “Why is that in your hand?”
“Well, at least it’s not my dick. He probably needs a rest.”
I shake my head and let out a weary exhale. “You know what I mean, Scotland. Photos, really?”
He ignores me completely, as is his default setting.
Before I know what’s happening, he fuses our mouths together once more, and I know he’s recording the whole thing.
As the many reasons why this is a bad idea run through my mind, I dissolve into another deep kiss, a languid stroke of our tongues tangling, until we reluctantly pull apart.
When I look at Connor, his eyes are full of softness, a tender glance, and a slight quirk at the corner of his stubbled mouth. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swipes his tongue over his lips. “I just want to save this. In case… You know… the moment never happens again…”
That has me giving him a long look. “You don’t need to worry about that.” I shake my head.
Our mouths meet again, a kiss that sends a shudder down to my toes. I get lost there for longer than I intend to, allowing our mouths to explore and tongues to slide together.
It happens simultaneously. We both feel it at the same time, the experience of both being able to sense that Wren is awake.
“That’s new.” Connor chuckles.