Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
TALLY
D umb Alpha got waylaid by sex. And as a result, he appears mildly pissed when he finds me waiting with his Glocks aimed at his chest.
Do not look at his dick. Do not look at his dick , I chant over and over.
I try so damn hard, but I can’t deny myself the chance to see his slicked-up cock. Plus, unlike him, I can actually manage to do more than one thing at a time. I flick the safety off to make sure he knows I’m not messing around before I let my eyes drop and check out his monster cock.
Much like the rest of him, it’s a very nice dick and my core tingles, agreeing.
God, he left me like this last time too—straddling that line of being a slave for him and being in control of my body.
Although, the last time we hooked up, it took me days of hiding away to break free of his stranglehold.
I eventually drag my eyes back to his face. I was expecting some level of hostility because of the guns, but instead, he’s grinning at me like he won the lottery.
“You can’t be serious,” I snarl.
He laughs. “Aye, I fucking can. I was pissed at first, but the longer I see you with your wee hands wrapped around my guns… Well, God's honest truth is, you need to put them away, Tally, or I’ll be bending you over and knotting your peachy arse till you can’t take any more of my seed.
Jesus, woman, my come’s still sticky on your body, but—and this is a pretty big fucking but—you’re bleeding.
So, while I’m close to all my fantasies coming true while also thinking I’ve been blessed again, I’m also not afraid of you shooting me to make a point. ”
I stand straighter, not wavering my aim. “What point?”
“That, aside from being able to treat that pussy of yours just right, me and my pack are more than capable of looking after you properly.”
“By locking me inside your house?”
“Yeah, well, perhaps next time, you shouldn’t sneak out without leaving a note. Keegan, your other husband, was beyond fucking worried.”
“Boo-hoo for him.”
“Aye, I know. He’s a big worrier, though. But I also think his actions were justified.”
“What?” I gasp.
Damn, maybe I shouldn’t have taken everything he threw my way in the shower. Who am I kidding? I’d take orgasms from him again and again. Besides, I’m the one with the guns. Win-win in my books.
He at least keeps talking, explaining the reasons they acted the way they did. “If we knew where you were, and when you’d be back, he wouldn’t have acted so drastically.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. He shrugs, unconcerned in the least. I know other Alphas who’d backhand for such an obvious challenge.
Still, I push, because no matter how good-looking he is and how talented he is in making me come, the matter of them thinking they have some sort of claim over me, and my actions, needs resolving.
“I don’t need to tell you where I’m going.”
“Aye, you do.” He takes a step closer, but he also wraps his fingers around his dick and starts slowly stroking himself, his eyes moving slowly down my body, lingering at the junction of my thighs.
My whole body heats.
“Put some damn clothes on!” I snap, kicking a towel at him.
As he reaches for the towel, he does a slow spin, making me shake my head at him again, though for different reasons.
I was hoping the towel would stop me from getting distracted, but the way it hangs low on his hips and somehow accentuates his chest and muscles has me wondering if I should swap the towel for the suit.
For the son of one of Ireland’s mob bosses, this is not what I was expecting.
I direct him out of the room, using the guns like traffic paddles, but it’s clear, exactly like he said, he’s not overly worried I’m going to shoot him.
“Please, wife, if we’re going to keep arguing about this, you need to at least do the same regarding putting something on.”
I glare at him, willing him to shut his mouth.
“You’ll set Keegan off in a rut for sure if he sees that mess I made.
And, well, Rafferty is a slut, no matter the reason, but seeing his Alpha’s come like that…
well, you’re likely to send him into heat.
Next thing we know, the five of us are ruining nests, which, like I said, I’m all for.
But you’ve obviously got things to say that we need to listen to. ”
“Stay there,” I hiss.
There’s no risk of him rushing to disarm me.
I know that. There’s no power imbalance at the moment, from his point of view, which is the issue.
Grabbing some panties and a bra, I dress quickly in jeans and a T-shirt before taking my time to adjust his shoulder harness to fit me.
It’s a big ask because he’s so broad across the shoulders, but it’s not the first time I’ve had to work with Alpha-sized equipment.
I twist around to do the final strap, my side screaming in protest. I slip up, and the small gasp has him walking closer.
“I’ll just tighten it up,” he offers casually.
The issue isn’t that I don’t trust him—God, it’s nearly inexplicable the level of trust I have around him. But just because I feel that doesn’t mean he gets to boss me around.
He finishes adjusting the straps, then leans down to press a kiss on my shoulder. A completely inappropriate gesture, but like with the trust thing, a part of me sings at the touch, hoarding it away in my memories for later.
“Come on, then, Tally, let’s sort this out. Maybe even do introductions, though once you find your scent-matched pack, names seem so irrelevant,” he says as he walks past me, giving me the appearance of being in control again.
“Right?” I say sarcastically while I re-holster the guns. If I need to protect myself, I’ll just kick him where it hurts—in his ego.
Husband number two is leaning against the wall close to my bedroom. My cheeks blush, knowing he probably heard us in the shower, but that’s on him for being a stalker, not on me for being vocal when I enjoy myself.
I stop at a distance and use the gun again to wave him into line too.
“Where are we going, wife?” the Alpha behind me asks, and I don’t need to see his face to guess he’s smiling.
Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him not smiling or laughing. It’s unnerving, and I’m surprised no one has shot him yet because of it.
As we come to the second bedroom, Tynan is standing up already.
Seeing him reignites the fire in my belly again.
In a lot of ways, he let me down the most, not that that makes sense.
Although it does too because the Genoa Alphas happened organically, but meeting Tynan feels contrived, especially now I know a little more about how he fits into the picture.
Clearly, this is what made him moody that night.
I thought it was because he was my masturbation buddy, apparently not.
Which leads me to a completely different reason we need to have a discussion.
“Will your Omega come in for this chat, or will you relay it?” I ask no one in particular, being bitchy in my tone.
But one look at Tynan is like getting punched in the face by the reality that this pack already has their Omega, and it’s rare for packs to have two Omegas.
They don’t need me, which means I’m a prisoner for another reason.
My emotions flop again. The sting of hurt knowing they have their pack all sorted, and I’m here for another reason, has me sliding back into being pissed at them.
In part, my emotions are out of control because of them and how good they smell.
They influence my designation without trying, making me not feel myself.
Add in the fact I still haven’t slept properly after last night, my injuries are hurting more than they should, and this morning's meeting with Walsh, and all I want to do is crawl into my nest and chase some comfort.
Wiping my hands over my face, I glance back at Tynan, waiting for an answer, but he’s not looking at me; he’s looking at the leader of this pack.
“Rafferty, are you coming in?” Tynan asks loud enough for his voice to carry through the two units.
There’s no response for a moment, and I take that as his answer. I wave everyone on again, keen to get this conversation over and done with, but before I take two steps, he answers.
“I want to, but I don’t think I should.”
“Why?” I ask, before I can stop myself.
“It’s your space,” he answers, and like his scent, his voice hits deep, impacting me more than it should.
“And this is your pack,” I snap back, feeling like a cow as soon as I finish speaking. I make a concerted effort to not be a complete bitch. “Honestly, I’m past caring.”
He pops into view, and the splash of pain and shock on his face is like someone burying their fingers into my stitches—it hurts. “Don’t say that. You should care. This is your space.”
Omega to Omega, I get what he’s saying. God, I do. Having these people, strangers, really, in my space where I eat and sleep is like having biting ants over my skin. On top of everything else, it’s a lot to cope with, but the most concerning is my lack of freedom.
“Like I said, you should be in here too.” I ignore the emotion pouring off him, almost as much as I ignore the way his scent is like a cuddle on a cold winter night.
I seriously think he’ll stay on his side of the apartment.
I mean, I would. I’m sounding and acting like a maniac; it’s probably safer with a few walls separating us.
Omegas don’t often share spaces because they both get territorial of each other—imagine a bitch fight with lots of slapping, hissing, and screaming, and you’re partway there to getting it.
Except, he doesn’t hesitate. He hobbles over, not stopping until he is almost nose to nose with me. So close, I can see for myself there’s no conflict in him, except perhaps, if I asked him to fight for me.
It’s too much. I turn slightly, bringing my hand up as a sign for him to stop. He freezes on the spot and becomes a smaller version of himself. Which only makes me feel worse, but at the moment, I need to protect myself.
“Please give me a second. We can sit anywhere, but give me some space.” I talk to the room as opposed to one of them. It really is getting to be too much, being around them, that is. It makes my Omega pine louder than my fear of being locked up.
They move away without arguing, and instead of joining them, I have to walk back into my bedroom to gather my swirling thoughts.
I open the window, chasing fresh air, and stand there, eyes closed, taking huge gulps of air until their scents have washed away.
On my bedside table, I find a fresh bottle of water, and I drink the whole thing.
I don’t intentionally make them wait, but time drags as I brush my hair and do my face. I walk out feeling better, more put together, ready to argue or kill this perfect scented pack if they don’t let me leave.