Chapter 46 #2
He pulled my leg up, placing my booted foot against his bare chest. He unlaced it.
And, God help me, how was it the sexiest thing I’d ever seen?
Dixon worked the boot off with agonizing deliberation, his fingers occasionally grazing my upper, exposed calf.
When the first boot clattered to the floor and he’d peeled away the thin, high sock beneath, he switched to the other foot, repeating the process with the same torturous slowness.
Part of me wanted to yell at him to hurry, but he’d waited so long for his Omega.
Then waited for me to be ready. How hard had it been for all of them to have me in the same house and not be able to claim me?
When the second boot clattered to the tile, Dixon lifted my leg higher so he could gently kiss it.
With the same methodical slowness, he worked his way from my ankle to my knee.
I shifted a little on one foot, trying to keep my balance, but I was struggling.
Suddenly, I felt someone step behind me.
Tray, his bubblegum carnival scent so damn joyous, gripped my hips with strong hands to steady me.
"Don't want you falling,” his musical, tenor voice murmured against my ear.
Dixon finally lowered my leg. When my second foot landed solidly on the floor, Dixon stood, moving away to let Mac replace him.
Tray stayed behind me, his face pressed into the crook of my neck, my hair cascading over his head.
Mac undid the corset’s front, unlacing the bottom up zigzag.
When I was free, he pulled it from around my body and discarded it to the ground; the blouse I’d worn beneath it fell loose around me.
Tray slid his hands beneath the shirt, his hot palms skimming across my ribcage before they began to lift.
My nipples hardened as he grazed against them.
“Arms up, gorgeous,” he commanded. He didn’t need to; I’d already started lifting my arms to allow him to pull the shirt away.
The hot, humid air of the bathroom hit my skin.
I was overheated, the foggy air around us thick.
My pulse quickened as Ryder approached again.
He’d been the one to ask if I was truly ready.
He should be the one to remove my last article of clothing, the last barrier between me and my Alphas.
I flicked a glance down at his dick. Long, straight, not as thick as Dixon’s.
Manicured, balls smooth and desperate to be licked.
“Eyes up here, Tessa.” He pretended to snap his fingers and pointed up to draw my attention to his face instead of the promise his lower body held.
Tray backed away and Ryder reached around me, unzipping the back of my skirt. It fell away easily, revealing to them I’d gone commando to the concert.
“You little minx,” Tray whistled appreciatively; his eyes widened, pupils expanding, nearly swallowing the rich brown of his irises.
“You’re lucky we didn’t know in the damn tour bus,” Dixon breathed out, lust overwhelming him.
"Fuck," Ryder groaned, now still as a statue, unable to look away from me. “Look at you. Just fucking look at you.”
“A goddess,” Mac agreed.
The skirt was pooled around my feet. I stepped out of the circle of fabric, abruptly hyperaware of my nakedness.
They’d seen me in a swimsuit. They’d seen me in revealing loungewear and padding to the kitchen for ice cream donning only a sports bra and boxers.
But they’d never seen all of me, not even during strip board game night.
I was too good of a player. My brothers had always been a little too competitive, and I’d hated to lose against them.
As a teen, I’d learned little tricks and could dominate most popular board games.
My family and I had spent many a freezing night on ski trips shouting over someone cheating in Matchopoly.
I bit my lower lip, worrying at it. What if I disappointed them? What if I wasn’t enough for all four?
My Alphas waited for me to make the next move. Despite saying there was no turning back if I said I was truly ready, they were still holding themselves at bay, trying not to push me into anything I didn’t want. Only I did want this. Desperately, with every fiber of my being.
I looked at each of them in turn—Ryder with his commanding aura even off stage, Dixon barely containing the feral energy that made him vibrate like a plucked guitar string, Mac with his controlled desire evident in the tension of his jaw, ever the gentleman despite his unmet needs, and Tray with his sparkling eyes, a smile ever only a heartbeat away. My Alphas. My future. My home.
After a few moments of silence, Ryder extended his hand to me. “Ready to shower? If we don’t soon, I can only imagine the water bill Cat gets next month.”
“She’ll have a conniption,” I agreed, my words joking but my voice breathy.
I took Ryder's hand, letting him guide me into the steaming shower. The hot, soothing water hit my skin and began to cleanse away the remnants of The Vault. But nothing could wash away the desire pooling between my thighs.
"Room for three more?" Mac asked, his voice husky.
“Always.” I could only get the one word out.
The shower was massive, a luxury multi-head system above us and massaging jets on two walls.
There was more than enough space for all of us, but their bodies crowded around me, pressing against me from every angle.
Water cascaded down muscled chests, bulging thighs, and steel-hard cocks.
Tray’s tawny skin glowed light bronze, seeming to be illuminated from the inside.
Dixon’s paleness was moonlight next to him.
Mac and Ryder’s similarly sun-kissed skin framed me on either side.
God, help me. This was really happening.