Chapter Five
Mason swings me around until his hand is trapped between the kitchen counter and my hips.
“From here, it looks like you’re actually touching her, Mase,” Vin says. “We could really piss him off. Maybe a pic or two in an accidental group chat? You wouldn’t have to touch her. What you’re doing right now almost looks real.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Mason says. His long middle finger spears into the space between my thighs. If it wasn’t for the sweats...
“I don’t know,” I splutter.
“You didn’t see him the rest of the practice, Izzy. He was irate, sure, but he pushed us harder than I’ve ever seen. He even gave us a mini-speech while everyone was flagging about how we have to meet expectations.”
“You aren’t in practice right now,” I note.
“Ah, but our first game is only a few weeks away. And, let’s not forget, it’s gonna send him into a jealous rage.”
True.And fuck that guy. If he can shank a skank, then I can get fingered by a fuckboy.
“Make it a video,” I word-vomit before I can think better of it.
Mason chuckles in my ear. It’s low and dark, and I’m decently sure Satan himself has come to possess him and do Very Bad Things to me.
The alpha in question spins me in circles and uses the movement to hide how he slots his hand under the band of my sweats.
Should I let Mason finger me for the camera without Vin realizing that’s what’s happening, all so we can taunt my future alpha? No.
But, again, fuck that guy.
I deserve my revenge. The image of Livvy’s shitty leggings kneeling on the tile will be emblazoned into my brain for the rest of my life.
It’s only fair he gets repaid in kind.
“Hands on the counter,” Mason demands, and I slap my palms onto the surface. Mason squeezes the clip twisting my hair up, and my locks cascade over my shoulders. He threads his fingers in and uses the roots to tilt my face up. When I open my eyes, Vin has his phone out, focused on me.
“Mason,” I whimper.
“Damn, bunny. Say my name like that again.”
“Please, Mason,” I whisper huskily.
Brad’s going to burn this house down with us in it.
Mason’s hand shifts beneath the apron and my pants. He looms behind me, his body flush with mine as he inhales hard at my exposed neck.
“There’s something about your scent,” he murmurs in my ear. “Something I can’t put my finger on. It’s intoxicating, like everything else about you.”
One long, thick finger slides through the slick soaking my pussy. I’m so aroused already that his finger slides easily over my skin. I considered wearing a scent pad, knowing I’d be having dinner with all three of them, but I’m grateful I decided against it.
On the other side of the counter, Vin gives us a thumbs-up and mouths it’s “very realistic.”
If only he knew.
Welp, in for a penny, in for a pound. I bow my spine to push my breasts against the apron. My tank top and bralette emphasize the curves of my body.
Mason finds my clit and flicks at it with his thumb. My muscles tense and pop while I work so hard to hold still.
“Such a good little toy for us,” he murmurs. His fingers return to pushing through my pussy with an energizing speed.
My heart races, and I have to tamp down my reactions. It can’t be too realistic or Vin will figure it out and then won’t send the video. I’m going to soak through the crotch of these sweats. At least the apron will disguise it.
I moan Mason’s name again and let my head fall forward.
He sinks a single finger into my pussy, and my whole body shutters.
Mason fucks me with his finger while his palm rubs against my clit in a maddening rhythm that’s quickly pushing me to the very real peak of a climax.
His own breathing is labored, and he nuzzles the side of my head like he needs more skin contact.
An insidious idea pops into my brain, so I grip his chin and kiss the split on his upper lip and the bruised cheekbone.
“Make me come, Mason,” I insist. “You earned this. Make me come so you can lick my orgasm from your fingers.”
His hand picks up then. He’s fully looming over me, his breaths in my ear, his arms as tense as steel and his forearm steady, directing the hand between my legs.
I sway my ass to grind against where I know his hard-on is. Horny alphas let their scents run away, too, and right now lemon overrides even the dinner cooking. Vin’s earthy, nutty scent threads into it and my body spirals.
My chest heaves as the climax streams to the apex.
But then Vin swings the camera around and toward himself.
“Hurry the fuck home, old man. Your new girl needs you,” he informs the camera, then shuts off the recording.
Mason and I freeze.
I’d completely forgotten why we’d done this.
The orgasm that’d been building dies an agonizing death. Mason withdraws, and the quick retreat leaves me shaking and weak.
“That was really good, guys,” Vin says. “Very believable. You wanna see it?”
The two of us shake our heads. We know it looks good, and we know why even if Vin doesn’t.
The alert sounds for the message sent. Vin’s busy poking around on his phone and doesn’t catch Mason suck his finger clean with a smirk.
I expect Brad to quickly respond with a tirade of insults, but none come.
Not even a fuck off for adding me to a group message text.
The lack of reaction leaves me sulky. It doesn’t help that I lost out on the orgasm.
We make it all the way through dinner, without Trick and with my body still uncomfortably primed, but I struggle to keep it in check.
A beta would recover fine. A squandered climax from an alpha, boo hoo.
There’s no way they could understand that a lost orgasm for an omega is incredibly uncomfortable. Blue balls ain’t got nothing on Omega Ovaries. The biological imperative demands we mate, mate, mate.
The second I’ve shut myself into my room for the night, I dig the knotted vibe out of my “kitchen stuff” and come twice to alleviate the pressure.
It still isn’t enough.
Being under the same roof as three men, and two strong alphas at that, is more of a struggle than I’d anticipated.
I force myself to sleep, even while the tossing and turning prompts several wake-ups.
* * *
Trick
Mason LaMille is a fucking fool.
How he roped Vin into that video is beyond me. Vin’s normally levelheaded, so how Mason convinced him to film Izzy like that is a question I need to resolve.
I’m not letting Mason fuck it all up for us. Having Izzy in the house is a lot more tenuous than I’d realized. The guys’ ignorance will need to be managed.
I doubt Izzy wants them to know she’s an omega. Hell, she clearly doesn’t want me to know she’s an omega.
If I hadn’t seen the pills in her bathroom, I’m not sure I’d have put it together.
I didn’t believe it at first. She could have gotten them from anywhere. She could be taking them for a multitude of reasons. Being in a house with three men, including two alphas, is a challenge even for a beta.
But then she got flustered over the nest, and her territorialism both confirmed what I’d figured out and made my own alpha instincts flare to life.
I haven’t had an omega under a shared roof in more than a decade. After Virginia...
When they died in the crash, I was too young to know how to handle it. It’d been only the three of us since we were teenagers.
After that, I wasn’t willing to try again. Not without a pack I’m sure of. I won’t let my life fall apart again.
But now I’m here, outside of Izzy’s room.
I raise a fist to knock and check on her, but my hand opens on its own and rests silently on the surface.
Izzy isn’t my omega. She doesn’t want to be mine. She’s here to secure a home with someone else.
Fire rages at the base of my skull. Tension, electric and stinging, snaps my shoulder blades together and cramps every muscle from my biceps up to my neck.
No, lock it down.She isn’t mine.
In a few short weeks, Izzy will have moved on.
Don’t get attached.
I softly open the door to check on her. Omegas don’t do well with denied physicality, and from an alpha...
Even on the pills, it had to have been painful.
As if I needed more confirmation, sheets wrap tightly around Izzy. She’s passed out on one side of the bed, but the sheets are askew like she’s spent the night running in circles on it. The comforter rests on the floor across the room like she threw it in a fit of irritation.
A sparkly orange vibrator with a knotted base rests discarded on the fitted sheet opposite her. Figures.
She tosses and turns and groans softly in her sleep.
When I sit on the bed beside her to check her temp, she rolls over and curls herself around me.
“Please,” she whispers then goes back to shallow breathing.
Her forehead’s a little warm, but I don’t think it’s a heat. She’d be way more active if that were the case.
The tank top and panties conceal nothing despite the fabric. The sheets provide more cover. Smooth, supple skin invites my touch. I’ve always thought she was beautiful, but there’s something special about watching her sleep.
It occurs to me that I am being a massive creep and gently whisper her name to wake her up.
She doesn’t stir but does snuggle closer. She hugs my arm resting on the bed.
Toeing off my shoes, I make the worst judgment call and stretch out to climb into the bed beside her. This is absolutely not a good idea for either of us.
But, I know she needs physical comfort. I can’t leave her like this.
Who am I kidding? I rewatched the video in the parking garage four times before I forced myself to shut my phone off entirely. I’d meant to come home and use my hand to relieve the tension, but then I realized what it meant for her and...
“Izzy,” I whisper with more urgency.
She snuggles under my arm and tugs a leg free of the sheets to hook it over my thigh. Her face settles into a serene sleep. She’s like an adorably hot koala, and I debate letting it lie as we are.
No, it wouldn’t be right. She’ll wake up at some point, and what? Think I crept into her bed uninvited?
“Izzy,” I say more forcefully.
The woman wrapped around me startles awake.
“What the—” is all she gets out before I jump to my own defense.
“I came in to see if you’re alright and you kinda forced me into cuddling with you.”
“Uh-huh. And how, exactly, did I manage that while unconscious?”
Hell, she’s irritable.I get it but still.
“By snuggling up to my arm,” I reply.
“Your arm got into my bed how?”
“It wasn’t in your bed. It was on your bed.”
“Not much better.”
“I can leave.”
She tightens her lips but then locks it down and converts into the sultry bunny I’d always assumed her to be. She grins at me and nudges her knee higher between my legs.
For a half second, one frustrating moment, I let myself feel the agony that she wants me. I should say no. The truth is she’s only after a knot, maybe even thinks screwing around will give her more security in my house.
“No need to be hasty,” she purrs. “Tell me why you’re here first.”
“I saw the video.”
“Was Brad around when you did? Tell me you saw his reaction. Tell me you recorded it. Tell me you posted it on social media and it’s already gone viral.”
“Just me, sadly.”
“Missed opportunity. If you aren’t here to fuel my feminine rage, then why are you?”
“The video ended before you were satisfied.”
She walks her fingers across my chest, but I capture them in place. She pouts but responds without the veneer of seduction.
“It was all pretend. Don’t worry; I haven’t corrupted the fuckboy.”
“I’m not worried about Mason. If anything, he’s the one corrupting the both of you.”
“It was Vin’s idea to take the video.”
That gives me pause. I’m so taken aback, it takes several seconds to register what she thinks I’m saying.
“Be that as it may, you can’t feel good about how it ended.”
“I’m fine,” she says, her tone like an accusation.
“You’re not,” I shoot back.
“You don’t know anything about it. Not that it’s any of your business, but I came back to my room and rubbed a few out.”
“Is that why you can’t settle? These are 750 thread count Egyptian cotton and they’re trying to mummify you.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not laughing. Do you need relief, omega?”
She freezes under my arm. If I needed more confirmation—and I do not—this would have convinced me all on its own.
Izzy would be laughing her ass off if she were actually a beta.
“I’m sleeping in your omega’s room,” she replies. “But that doesn’t actually make me an omega.”
“I know, Isabelle. You can drop the act.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed that you refuse to listen to reason.”
“You left the pills out in your bathroom.”
“Fuck,” she grits out. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“No? It looks like an omega trying so hard to hide from the world that she’ll suppress her instincts and hormones and go after one of the few alphas the Admin wouldn’t be able to challenge an impromptu bond with?”
“Alright, it’s a little what it looks like.”
“Or?”
“Exactly what it looks like. Are you gonna interrogate me like this all the time? It’s fucking uncomfortable.”
“In that case, I can go.”
I shift to get out of the bed, but her leg locks down and she uses the hand I trapped on my chest to keep me in place. The woman is surprisingly strong.
“Don’t go. Tell me why you’re really here.”
“I told you, I was worried you were in pain. You aren’t, so there’s no need for me to be here.”
Her sly smile droops at one corner, her eyes glazing over, but she recovers quickly.
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine. Dinner’s in the fridge. I’m going back to sleep.”
Izzy slips out of my grasp and rolls to face the other side of the bed. The sheets twist around her and she squeezes a pillow against her abdomen.
When I don’t move, she grumbles, “I’m fine, Wyatt. It’ll pass. It always does. Go eat.”
The woman is so hard to read. She puts up these titanium walls. Every instinct says to barrel through them but also second-guesses whether she actually wants me to.
We’ve had moments. The kiss floats around in my head constantly. I’ll never admit it to her, but since the knee-jerk reaction wore off, I’ve been perfectly comfortable with her in my omega’s room.
Izzy Sutton is strong and independent. A lioness. Someone who can conquer the world and you’d thank her for it.
Yet, when I think of her in here, she becomes mine, if only in my mind.
Despite the alpha side pounding fists to my brain to stay, I do as she asks and head to the kitchen.
She cooked off a steak for me, but I forgo reheating and eat everything cold. It has the specter of a punishment for taking advantage of her.
. . . or not taking advantage of her.
Ah, fuck.
The dinner is delicious, like the woman.
It’ll pass, she says.
It’s not passing for me.
The plate of food rests on the counter where they filmed the video.
Every scrape of the fork is like each pass of Mason’s hidden fingers.
Every bite loses its taste the moment it hits my tongue until nothing remains but her.
It always does.
Why did she say that? Why the fuck does it always pass?
All I can taste is spicy honey.
The sweet heat is a balm on my tongue.
Dishes clatter too loudly in the sink while my instincts override reason.
I’m at her door in record time.
She’s in my arms even faster.
I kiss Izzy and hold her close, and she responds with every bit as much enthusiasm.
“Trick,” she whimpers, and my cock strains against the khakis.
“Tell me you want this,” I fumble out.
“Fuck, yes, I want this.”
I might be merely a knot to her, but I’ll take what she’ll give.
We kick the last of the sheets off and I don’t even pause to pull her panties down. Hard nipples and full breasts stretch the ribbed fabric of her tank as she presses against me, and I’m absolutely certain I’ve never seen anything sexier.
Shoving the crotch aside, I roll two fingers through her slick.
Her kiss takes on more urgency. She bites my bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth, and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into her neck.
Fuck, Brad.Fuck that guy for having this and being selfish enough to go for someone else. The guy’s a fucking idiot.
“Alpha,” Izzy whines.
“I’m here, omega,” I murmur.
She rotates us to straddle me and grinds her wet pussy against the hard-on crowding my pants. We make quick work of the zip and fly, and only take long enough to frantically shove the fabric and my boxer briefs off my hips.
Izzy raises her hips and positions my cock at her entrance.
But I snatch her thigh before she can sink down.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice rough.
A harsh beat of frozen time passes.
“Are you not sure?” she replies, her tone suddenly broken. “Do you not want... Shit, I’m sorry, Trick.”
She backs away and scrambles to the other side of the bed.
All of the air blows out of my lungs like I’ve been kicked in the chest.
Her legs hang off the edge while she rubs her face in her hands.
“This is embarrassing. I’m so sorry, Trick. Please just go. Let’s pretend—”
I grab her arm and stretch her out in the bed.
The woman lying beside me is not the normal Izzy. It’s clear that there’s the Izzy she shows everyone else, the one who’s fearless and brash, the woman who spits in the world’s face.
And then there’s the real woman, who’s hoping no one sees beyond it.
I know something about hiding from the world.
A tear tracks down her cheek. I hate seeing her like this. I wish she’d say something. I don’t know how to respond to her crumbling under perceived rejection.
So, I do the only thing I can think of.
I shift on my knees to the end of the bed.
Standing at the foot, I maintain her eye contact while yanking my shirt overhead and then dropping my pants and boxer briefs entirely to the ground.
Her eyes widen in surprise, the pupils dilating as she takes me in, and fuck if it doesn’t make me want her impossibly more.
The way she looks at me now—she wants me.
Me.
Crawling across the bed, I slide her panties down her legs, hold them over the edge of the bed, and then drop them on the floor.
Izzy watches every movement like she’s consumed by my deliberate insistence.
I settle myself between her thighs and run my nose and mouth over her core.
Fuck, she’s divine. Mason was right about one thing— she’s spicy and sweet everywhere. I desperately lick her pussy, my tongue lapping at her slick and demanding more.
She sinks fingernails into her thighs, the strain leaving claw marks on smooth, tanned skin.
Izzy writhes beneath me. I’m going to push her over the cliff to take the edge off, then fuck her good and hard until she begs for my knot.
Her head whips side to side while I work her over. Her divine smell amplifies my instincts to mate with her. I haven’t had an urge to mark someone so strongly since my high school days. As embarrassing as it is, I’m gonna need to bite a pillow to keep my teeth in check.
Her legs quiver around my body, her muscles stiffening.
Izzy sighs out my name, her body momentarily relaxing before the tension returns. I’d figured that she’d need more than one after that idiot teased her like that. My omega wants for nothing, least of all orgasms.
Shuffling up the bed, I loom over her and position my shaft at her opening.
A long pause beats blood in my skull while I wait for her to object. My head goes fuzzy from the restraint, but I won’t have her regretting this.
Not for one fucking second.
When she doesn’t second-guess the decision and maintains that steady focus, I press slowly inside her. We maintain eye contact while I spread her open before me. She winces right at first and shifts her hips, but she never breaks from my gaze and doesn’t complain about my size or speed.
This woman.
I lunge for her, my cock fully sheathed inside her, and devour her. Those nails scratch tracks across the back of my ribcage.
“Fuck, Izzy, you take my cock so well. Does my omega need my knot?”
She whimpers and peppers kisses over every bit of skin she can reach.
Withdrawing, I pause before sinking back into her. The way her pussy grips me, you’d think she was totally deprived.
“More, Wyatt,” she whispers.
“More?”
“Fuck me hard, Patrick. Work for it.”
Grinning, I pull out and then thrust firmly into her.
She sucks in a breath, her back bowing off the mattress, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
I do it again just to make her repeat it.
“Yes,” she hisses.
I fuck Izzy hard and fast, my hips snapping forward so that our bodies clap together. Her breathing is ragged, and spiced honey rages in my brain. She’s on the pills so I know it’s impossible, but I’d swear she’s perfuming because her scent is everywhere.
It settles over my thoughts like a fog until all I see is her.
Her face. Her body.
How her mouth drops open when I twist my hips just so.
How she digs her heels into the back of my thighs.
How her skin flushes a mesmerizing, rosy pink.
“More, alpha,” she begs.
“Ready?”
“Yes!”
Two more thrusts to be sure, and I push my knot into her. She moans, loud and low, and it slams against my self-control.
Fuck, she’s tight. It’s been so long since I’ve... No one has been like this. It’s not the same.
Izzy is unlike anyone I’ve ever been with.
Being sunk so deep into her like this makes my thrusts short and fast. I plunge into her, the pressure of her locking around me like the wettest, tightest sensation I’ve ever experienced.
“Fuck, Izzy,” I growl.
My jaw aches with need. I want to mark her so badly it’s painful.
“Almost . . . yes . . . there . . . keep . . . ” she growls. She grabs my neck, her nails sinking in again and leaving tiger scratches around the circumference.
She squeezes my cock so tight my restraint slips entirely and I free-fall into the orgasm.
We come together, her pussy clamping around me so hard it’s like her body is desperate for my release, and I’m desperate to give it to her. My shaft pulses inside of her as wave after wave of hot cum pours out of me.
“There’s my good little omega.” I groan. “Drain my balls dry. Take it all.”
I try a few more meager thrusts, but it’s only because I like the idea of fucking my cum into her.
Sex and her fill my nose while I suck in oxygen and catch my breath. It’s like I haven’t breathed any air except her hypnotic scent since before I first came in here.
Damn. We didn’t talk at all about safety or what this means for the pact.
I don’t know how she’ll feel once the sex hormones wane, once the need to keep Brad in check resurfaces. Vin and I aren’t a pack, but his needs matter too. Part of being lead alpha means putting the others’ needs above my own.
When she realizes that it’s changed for me, she’s going to want to leave. Brad’s her end goal, not me.
But not right now.
Right now, I pivot so she’s lying on my chest while we wait for my knot to go down and her pussy to release me.
I’m hooked.
Whether she feels the same is a question I’m both desperate to ask and terrified of.