Chapter 15
HANNAH
We stumble through the front door, and the blast of warmth from inside is so welcome I could cry. My face is numb from the cold, my fingers stiff.
Kane is already kneeling by the fireplace, arranging logs. “Just got a text from Chris. He’s still at the station processing those idiots. Says it’s a busy night down there, but he’ll be home when he can. And apparently he has something to tell us.”
“Probably pissed that he missed our amazing performance,” Noel says, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it by the door. “We were legendary tonight.”
I laugh, toeing off my boots and lining them up neatly. “You two were incredible. Saved my entire event, after almost destroying it first,” I tease.
Flames catch and start licking up the wood in the fireplace. “So really, we just evened out the damage.”
Noel pulls on his jacket again, zipping it up. “I’m heading out to feed the reindeer and get them into the barn for the night. Going to be a cold one. That snow is really coming down now.”
He disappears back outside, and Kane follows him out to help, leaving me alone in the entryway.
I head upstairs to change into black leggings that are so soft they’re basically pajamas, and an oversized pink T-shirt. I have on a black tank top underneath because the one thing I refuse to do is wear a bra in this house after hours.
The bra comes off the second I get home. Always has, always will. But living with three very attentive Alphas means I can’t just fling it off the moment I step through the door like I used to at my old place. Hence the tank top compromise.
I wash my face in the attached bathroom, brush my teeth, pull my hair into a messy ponytail, and head back downstairs in my thick wool socks.
The living room has transformed into something from a magazine spread.
The fire Kane started is blazing now in the stone fireplace, flames dancing and crackling, casting warm light across the room.
The Christmas tree lights are on, twinkling softly in whites and golds.
The overhead lights are dimmed to that perfect level where you can see, but everything has this cozy, intimate glow.
Through the windows, snow is falling harder now. Big, fat flakes that are accumulating fast on the ground, on the trees, covering everything in pristine white.
I hope Chris gets home soon. The roads are going to be dangerous.
The guys still aren’t back from the barn, so I stroll into the kitchen and grab a glass from the cabinet, filling it with cold water from the dispenser and downing half immediately. My throat is raw from talking over loud music all night, from stress, from everything.
Then I remember the chocolate chip cookies I spotted in the pantry a few days ago when I was exploring. The good kind that’s soft-baked with huge chunks of chocolate and tastes like heaven. I grab them and a can of Dr Pepper from the fridge.
Back in the living room, I sink into the plush couch and set my drink on the side table.
The cookie package fights me, the plastic refusing to tear where it’s supposed to, and I end up using my teeth to rip it open.
The crinkling sound is loud in the quiet room, competing with the crackle and pop of the fire.
I pull out a cookie and take a huge bite.
Pure bliss. Soft and chewy with melted chocolate.
I love having a fireplace. This whole house, actually.
The high ceilings, the exposed beams, the windows that let in so much natural light during the day.
It’s starting to feel like home in a way that scares me because I’m supposed to be here temporarily. Just until I sort things out.
Except I’m not sorting anything out. I’m settling in, getting comfortable, and letting myself imagine staying.
I finish the first cookie and immediately reach for a second one because tonight was stressful and I deserve carbs and sugar.
Then I look up.
Kane and Noel are standing near the fireplace, facing me.
They’re still in their clothes from tonight, jeans and long-sleeved shirts, barefoot now with their boots left by the door. But there’s something about the way they’re positioned, lit by the fire, that makes them look unreal.
Kane with his dark blond hair slightly messy from the cold outside, hazel-green eyes locked on me. God, his body, all broad shoulders and defined muscles visible even through his shirt. That crooked grin on his face that’s equal parts trouble and charm.
Noel next to him, shorter by an inch, his long brown hair pulled back in a low knot that emphasizes his strong jaw and those piercing eyes. The shirt he’s wearing clings to every line of muscle in his chest and arms.
How do I keep myself in check around them? How do I function like a normal human being when they look like that? And there’s music playing suddenly, something with a slow, sultry beat that definitely wasn’t on a second ago.
I burst out laughing, cookie crumbs falling onto my shirt. “Oh, so my private show? Excellent timing, boys.” I tuck my legs under me, getting comfortable, and take another bite of my cookie.
They’re staring at me with identical expressions, amused but also hungry in a way that has nothing to do with food.
“You forget the deal, baby girl?” Kane asks, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge even more against the fabric.
My body reacts immediately. Fire burning deep in my gut.
“How about we just focus on you both dancing for me?” I suggest around my mouthful of cookie. “I’m exhausted, and you both still have that post-performance energy going.”
They exchange a glance, some silent communication passing between them. Then suddenly they’re both on me.
The cookie is ripped from my grasp, Kane taking it, and they’re hauling me to my feet. Fingers dig into my sides, finding every ticklish spot, and I’m shrieking with laughter.
“Hey!” I’m gasping for air, trying to squirm away. “Stop! That’s my cookie!”
“You want to see our best work?” Kane says between my giggles, his fingers relentless. “We need payment.”
They’re already tugging at my oversized shirt, trying to pull it up, and I’m batting their hands away weakly while laughing so hard tears are forming.
“Hey, I never agreed to that!”
They release me immediately, stepping back with matching grins that are pure mischief. Kane brings my stolen cookie to his mouth and takes a huge bite, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
“Then no show,” Noel says simply, turning away with exaggerated disappointment.
“Oh, come on!” I pout at their backs. “That’s not fair at all!”
“Then clothes off,” Kane says, finishing my cookie in one more bite.
“But it’s freezing!”
They shrug in unison and start to walk away, heading toward the stairs like they’re actually going to leave.
I should let them go. This is already treading into dangerous territory, and I’m supposed to be taking things slow. Building trust. Not jumping into bed, or couch, when I already made enough of those accidents.
They glance back at me. The heat in their eyes. The way their bodies are practically vibrating with the need to touch me, to perform for me, to give me this.
They want more. I know they do. So eager to do this, and clearly excited about the prospect of dancing just for me, that I can’t resist.
They did me a huge favor tonight. And part of me—the part that’s been aching and burning since I moved in with them—desperately wants to see them naked. Wants their hands on me and to stop fighting this pull between us.
“Fine,” I hear myself say. “But just down to my panties and tank top. That’s the deal.”
They turn back immediately, and the smiles on their faces unleash the butterflies in my stomach. “Deal,” Noel says, his voice dropping lower.
They move closer, predatory and purposeful, and Kane reaches out to tug on the hem of my shirt. “So do it.”
“Can’t I do it after you start dancing?” I’m stalling because my hands are shaking slightly and I’m not sure if it’s from nerves or anticipation.
“Fine,” Noel says. “But if you don’t strip by the end of the first song, we’ll be doing it for you.”
Heat floods through me at the threat, and my body responds immediately—nipples tightening, wetness pooling between my thighs. My pre-heat is definitely ramping up because this level of instant arousal isn’t normal for me.
“Okay, fine,” I manage, retreating back to the couch on shaky legs and grabbing another cookie just to have something to do with my hands.
The music grows louder, filling the room. Not the upbeat strip club music from the bar, but something slower. More intimate. A deep bass line that I don’t just hear but also feel sink into my bones, with a melody layered over it that’s pure seduction.
They position themselves between the fireplace and the couch, giving me a perfect view. The fire creates this halo effect, light and shadow playing across their features, highlighting every angle and plane of their faces and bodies.
I drag the blanket from the back of the couch over my lap, preparing to keep my word about stripping, and settle in to watch.
Kane moves first.
He rolls his shoulders back, stretches his neck side to side like he’s loosening up, and then his hips start moving to the beat. Slow, sensual rolls that are completely different from the energetic performance at the bar. This is intimate. Personal. Just for me.
My breath catches.
Noel joins in, his movements fluid and graceful, complementing Kane’s power perfectly. Where Kane’s motions are strong and deliberate, Noel’s are as smooth as water, and together they create this hypnotic rhythm.
They’re not rushing but taking their time. Building anticipation with every sway of their hips, every flex of muscle.
Kane runs his hands down his own chest, over his abs, fingers hooking into his waistband but not pulling down. Just teasing. Promising. Noel turns, throwing me a look over his shoulder that’s pure sex, then slowly starts drawing up his shirt, revealing inches of skin with agonizing slowness.