Chapter Ten
With the cookies safely in the preheated oven and my “reality” pics taken, Vin and I lounge in the living room while skipping around channels. I’m lost in thought about what to do with my career.
. . . or lack thereof.
Vin’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch between my legs. I was teaching him to French braid the hair on top of his head so he doesn’t have to use metal clips. The braid is done, but he hasn’t moved, and I’m not asking him to.
My fingers scratch over his scalp and massage the tight knot at the base of his neck. He tilts his head into my touch.
My phone on the coffee table lights up with a notification. He plucks it from the surface and hands it to me.
“Hey, have you ever thought about social media?” Vin asks.
“I live on my phone.”
“No, I mean for work. That’s a job.”
“I’m not a PR person.”
“I don’t think you need to be. My sponsored posts are mostly me awkwardly trying the product while Trick records it. My agent makes me go to a new restaurant every so often for the tag.”
“No one cares about the things I’m doing.”
“There are... What do they call them? Lifestyle creators?”
“Yeah, I’m sure my threadbare leggings and four-year-old work blouses are very OOTD.”
“I like the things you wear.”
The smile pops up unbidden, and I have to school my face to settle it.
“It’s not a good idea to draw attention to myself.”
“Oh, right. Of course.”
Text messages come in notifying us where our alphas are. It cuts off both the conversation and the easy-going attitude we’d been sharing.
Trick was held back for yet more meetings. Mason’s manager insisted on taking him out to talk to sponsors.
The oven timer goes off, but my stomach is too uneasy even for cookies now.
Without the rest of the guys here, Vin and I argue and then decide to watch a movie. The cable box offers a million channels. Sensory overload builds with every “page down” in the myriad of choices.
If Trick were here, he’d pick and we’d be done with it. Mason might give him shit for the outcome, but Trick would consider what everyone likes and be fair. Mason knows that.
Vin seems to recognize this too. He frowns at the remote like it’ll select the answer for him. He comes to sit with me on the long side of the L-shaped couch, facing the TV, but we’re both too in our heads.
We pick from the choices currently playing on one of the regular movie channels to limit it to a manageable number.
I want Mean Girls. He wants Pulp Fiction. We settle on Sin City because we universally agree that Jessica Alba is fucking hot in that movie.
It also matches both of our dour moods. Rainy and grim, we’re both stung that neither Trick nor Mason are home. Trick, I understand, but Mason annoys me.
Because, yes, I feel a certain kind of way about him going out drinking and partying without me.
I have no right to. I know that.
The unspoken words from Vin are that he agrees.
But Mason has the specter of being mine, and it rankles that he’s off without me... without us, even if I know logically it’s as much for his career as it is for fun.
I hate the idea of other girls in the club grinding on him.
Fuck that.Discomfort simmers low in my belly. My insides cramp and my repressed omega instincts hate keeping a distance.
I’ll admit, late at night, when darkness allows my mind to wander onto unknown paths, that at least part of my physical distance from the guys is about maintaining emotional distance.
Mason isn’t my boyfriend. He definitely isn’t pack.
But he is . . .
“This movie’s a lot darker than I remembered,” Vin comments.
“Mean Girls is still on the table.”
“Let’s just get to the part where she’s dancing with the whip and then try something else.”
Snuggling up to him, I fold my legs together over his lap and rest my head on his chest. He throws an arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head.
Another pang hits low, lower than my belly, and I squirm. I try and fail to cover it by grabbing my phone to search the online guide for another movie option.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, just getting comfortable.”
He doesn’t press the issue, but by the time Bruce Wills staggers into an exotic dancing club, we’re both worn out by the movie. I scroll through the channel guide on my phone.
“Magic Mike’s on,” I note.
“No chance in hell.”
“Oh, come on! He’s an athlete. Shouldn’t you be impressed by his coordination?”
“Still a no.”
“Then you pick,” I huff.
He snatches my phone and thumbs through the screen.
While he’s perusing the options, a notification for one of my fan site accounts pops up.
Brad’s secret account is thumbs-downing my latest series of rants.
“What’s that?” Vin asked.
Shit.I grab for it, but he flings his arm out.
Vin uses his considerable reach to hold the phone away and selects the notification so the app opens.
I climb over him to reach it, but he wraps an arm around my waist and holds me in place. No amount of flailing will extend my arms the extra foot I need.
Vin’s face stretches into this broad, amused smile.
“CannonGrl327 says, Brad Cameron does fantastic skating for someone with lead feet. Have we confirmed they’re made of flesh and bone and he’s not some kind of rusty robot?”
He bursts out laughing when he reads the next comment.
“ILuvCannonBalls responds, maybe that’s why he buys feet pics on the internet!”
Vin’s so busy laughing that he loses focus on what I’m doing and I snatch my phone back.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I note. “Besides, a little healthy criticism would do Brad good. He does need to work on his ankle strength.”
I reach for the remote and try to change both the channel and the subject.
I frantically hit numbers until Jennifer Lopez and George Clooney banter on the screen.
“Oh, no, I’m gonna need more information about how much you love Cannon balls,” he says.
Despite myself, I giggle at the joke. Vin snatches the remote from my hand and throws it over the couch. I chase after it in midair and end up straddling him.
“Sucks for you,” I inform him. “I already switched to my movie of choice. It’s an enemies-to-lovers romance for you.”
Vin, with his hair braided off his face and that crooked smile mischievous, peers up at me like he’s somehow won.
My insides curl over the way he’s looking up at me. Hands skim up my back like they’re prepared to throw me down on the couch and fuck me senseless. Muscles tense, but I bury the wince.
He catches it, because of course he does.
“Tell me what’s really going on, Izzy,” he says. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You can’t keep pretending your discomforts don’t matter. Is it an omega thing again?”
Men are not allowed to be that empathic.
“I’m just a little . . . tense.”
“Tense.”
“Yes, tense.”
“Elaborate on what part of you is tense.”
“The part that wants to be squeezed around a dick.”
“Fuck, Izzy,” he groaned. “I thought you’re on the suppressants?”
“I am.”
“And you’re struggling to maintain calm even around a beta.”
You aren’t just some beta.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“Don’t tell me what I feel.”
“Then take care of yourself and I won’t have to.”
With a huff, I try to back off him, but he keeps an iron grip on my hips.
Vin gazes up at me, fathomless, dark umber eyes unflinching despite having my total focus.
Insecurities flare at his close examination. I haven’t fixed my hair since I got home, and my work pants and blouse are rumpled. It makes me want to leap from the couch and run from the room.
He used to seem shy. Reserved at best. Right now, though, his intense focus dares me to move. He challenges me to escape.
Vin’s gaze drops to my mouth, and he squeezes my hips.
“Do you need to come, Izzy?” he murmurs. It’s gentle and inviting, and I’m surprised my clothes haven’t melted off from the sudden explosion of my body heat.
Every mote in the air freezes as his scent hits me so hard, it may as well have been a fist. Wild things in leaves and dirt assault my good sense, and the overhead light becomes unbearable as my pupils dilate.
“It’s more complicated than that,” I reply, but he has to see how he’s effecting me.
“Explain.”
“It’s just biology.”
“Right.”
“My body wants to mate. It’s like it’s got a breeding kink separate from my mind. There are times when merely being near you guys sends my sex drive through the roof.”
He grins again. “And that’s happened just now. With me.”
“Yes,” I admit. My instinct is to hide, to deny it, to pretend I’m unaffected, but I don’t want that.
Not with Vin.
He’s been this solid force since I moved into the house. A bastion to hide from the world in. He doesn’t have the same demands as the other guys.
There’s this odd mix of adoration and pride on his face. I can’t tell if it’s about him or me, but I like seeing it.
“I never thought an omega would want a beta.”
“I can leave if it makes you uneasy,” I snark.
“No chance in hell. I have an idea if you’re willing to try. Could help with your discomfort.”
“I’m listening.”
“Have you ever tried cock warming?”
“Cock what?” I say with a laugh.
“Cock warming. I’d be inside you, but only for the sake of doing it. Not sex exactly.”
“You want to fuck me without fucking me.”
“In a way.”
“Our first kiss was two hours ago,” I note.
“This is just biology,” he says with a cocky grin.
“And you’ve done this before?”
“Hell no. Edging myself for an hour or more sounds like torture. But if you need that... it might calm things down until one of the guys comes home.”
“You mean, until there’s a knot.”
“Yes. I don’t have the hubris to think I can satisfy an omega all on my own, but I can still make it fucking fun. I don’t have any issues with sharing. I’m grateful to even have a chance.”
Jealousy roars as a real and breathing thing that steals the air from my lungs. My nails dig into the soft fabric behind him.
“Hey, there’s only one omega I want right now,” he replies.
It’s a dangerous thing to say all on its own, but I appreciate the attempt nonetheless.
“What do we do?” I ask.
“Watch the movie.”
Vin stretches me out on the couch. He tosses the backrest cushions away and then reaches for a blanket on the shelf under the coffee table. The folds are firmly creased, so they’ve probably never used it.
The throw is soft, warm, and plenty big enough for both of us.
“Take off your leggings,” he murmurs in my ear.
I do as he asks, shimmying the fabric off my hips and ass and then shoving them down until they catch on my ankles. His feet tangle with mine to free me from the fabric before he sheds his lower layers.
Skin grazes against mine and spurs this odd vulnerability. We’re dressed from the waist up and covered by the blanket otherwise, but static buzzes in my chest at being so exposed.
“Now what?” I ask.
He grabs a large throw pillow and sets it under our heads.
“I told you. Watch the movie.”
Exposed skin covered in hair tickles my legs. He grinds his half-hard shaft against the cleft of my ass, and I sigh a pained exhale.
“Shhhh, Izzy. I’ll take care of you.”
Fingers probe my stomach before creeping lower. Vin cups my core, his finger mimicking what Mason did that day in the kitchen.
“Vin,” I whisper, and he chuckles darkly.
“So needy,” he murmurs. “So fucking wet and eager for my cock. Don’t worry, beautiful. I’m gonna make it better.”
I grind my ass against his crotch to insist he take it another step further.
“Fuck, Izzy,” he curses. The hand between my thighs coaxes me to wrap my top leg backward over his. He positions his cock at my entrance and slowly, with the most restrained caution, presses in.
He works my clit while he slides into me, and my slick and cramping insides eagerly accept him.
“Hell, we never talked about condoms,” he mutters.
“I have an IUD and I’ve been tested. Well, not since Trick but it’s only been him.”
“Thank fuck. I’m clean too. You good?”
“Yeah.”
When he’s seated to the hilt, he again kisses my temple and continues playing with my clit.
“So fucking perfect,” he groans in my ear. “This pussy is like magic. I’m dying to fuck you but won’t last even a minute. I’ve never been with an omega and it’s everything I’d hoped it’d be.”
He murmurs soothing words, telling me it’s fine, but his hips never shift.
Having him sunk deep and filling my pussy is the most challenging relief. I’m dying for him to thrust into me. To make me scream and wail.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he holds me while we watch the movie.
A cramp hits me again. He curses softly to himself but braces me through it while it passes. He is right, though—it helps.
Eventually, his hand creeps down again. He toys with my clit and pulls out enough to squeeze himself with the ring of his fingers before returning inside me.
I touch the place where we’re joined. Angry veins etched into the base of his shaft pulse under my fingers.
“Are you sure you—”
“I’m the best I’ve ever been, Izzy.”
We sit like that for at least a half an hour, with Vin teasing me to oblivion. Every now and again, he withdraws and thrusts back into me, but mostly we lounge with his shaft sheathed inside me.
My pussy wants to lock around him, but there’s nothing to lock. I can tighten and convulse as much as my body demands and the worst that happens is his strangled gasps.
Even if he isn’t moving much, the way he plays with my filled cunt is like heaven on earth.
Yes, there’s frustration from the delayed release.
But it’s the most enjoyable agony I’ve ever endured.
We watch the movie, and he toys with me.
Finally, fucking finally, he lets me have my first orgasm. The blaze rages through me after the buildup, and my system floods with endorphins.
If I’d thought that would be the end of it, I would’ve been very wrong.
The second my first O settles, sure, certain fingers are already working toward another.
Vin loves being inside me when I climax. He tells me in whispered words full of guttural desire.
I miss the rest of the movie because I’m entirely focused on him nipping at my neck and his fingers playing with my clit and my pussy stretched around him.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he murmurs.
Again and again, the orgasms rage over me. I’ve never come this much in my life. It’s exhausting, but I’ve also never been so satisfied.
“You’re perfect. Did you know that? You, right now, writhing from my fingers and cock, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. Just a few more for me, Izzy. A little more and I’m going to come so hard inside you.”
The door clicks open in the garage and the two of us freeze. It reminds me so much of the first time I came to this house, when we planned our scheme, but things were so much more innocent then.
“Guys?” Trick calls out.
“In here!” Vin replies.
“No, shhhhh,” I hiss at him.
I don’t know why I do it. The whole point was to wait for one of the guys to come home. Call it a reflex about being caught.
And it isn’t until that moment I realize that Vin intends to stay with us for that.
The man behind me only smiles into my neck and continues rubbing circles around my clit.
“Vin,” I whine. He removes his hand and cuddles me into the little spoon.
But this fucker is still inside me!
When Trick comes through the door, he looks thoroughly beat. His hair’s dry and neatly combed, but his gray slacks are rumpled. The sleeves of the white button-down were rolled to the elbows long ago.
“You made cookies?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah. Have some if you want.”
He eyes the two of us, then the movie and the rest of the room, but doesn’t seem to have caught onto what’s going on beneath the throw blanket.
“Seems like you found stuff to do,” he says. “Is Mase still with his agent?”
I tense around Vin, to warn him not to spill.
“Yeah,” Vin answers, but his voice cracks and he coughs through it. It jars him inside me and my eyes roll.
Trick tilts his head to the side and purses his lips.
“I’m gonna grab a snack,” he says.
He disappears, and Vin and I separate. What we do now is anyone’s guess. Our clothes are in a pile on the floor in front of the couch.
Vin delivers that mischievous grin and flips me around so I’m lying on top of him. He positions my knee over his hips and slips easily inside me.
“Think we can keep it quiet until he passes out? He’s not far off,” he whispers.
“What happened to not committing sex acts—”
Trick returns to the room with a small plate of cookies and a bottle of water. He plops onto the short side of the L-shaped couch not far from our heads.
Vin holds me tight against his chest with his arms around me.
“Oh, this is a good movie,” Trick comments. “Solid choice.”
“Thanks, it was mine,” I reply.
“She wanted to watch Mean Girls,” Vin says to hide my reaction when he withdraws ever so slightly and thrusts into me.
“Traitor,” I mutter too forcefully. “I picked In Plain Sight too.”
The guys make eye contact, but if something’s been conveyed, they don’t show it.
Vin just smiles lazily.
Trick nods tiredly.
And we watch the movie.
Vin continues to torture me, only this time there is no escape. Trick is there, so we can’t leave, but we also can’t make anything real of what he’s doing. Either option gives the game away.
Vin kisses my forehead, and Trick munches my fresh cookies.
The climax of the movie begins, but Trick doesn’t seem tired at all. He’s thoroughly energized now. His muscles tense and he grips his ankle where he’s crossed it over his other knee.
“Is this what you’re doing all night?” Trick asks.
I squeeze Vin again.
“Planning to,” he replies.
And then this asshole has the nerve to snake a hand down, grip my backside, and run his finger along the space between where he’s inside me and up around. The tip of his finger spears into my ass.
My squeak is too loud not to be noticeable. He holds me in place, but it does nothing to control my frantic breathing while he toys with my other hole.
I am going to kill him slowly, in his sleep.
No, I’m shaving him bald. That’s probably worse to him.
“You’re not playing fair,” I mutter as softly as I can.
Vin chuckles this gentle, rumbling sound that’s almost a purr.
“Never said I was playing at all, Izzy,” he replies.
When I glance the question at him, he nods to Trick.
The man is sitting there, watching us intently, with a pleased smile on his face.
“Oh, you two are such assholes!” I scream.
They burst out laughing, and I struggle to get away from them both. Vin wrestles with me playfully and holds me tight to his chest.
“Don’t be like that,” Trick says. “The entire first floor smells like loamy earth and hot honey. The second I walked in the door, I knew something was happening.”
I pout at them both.
“Show me,” Trick says. He puts on that authoritative tone that makes me both want to agree and argue.
“I don’t know if you deserve it after that.”
“You enjoyed it as much as we did.”
“Not the point.”
Trick grips his hard shaft, visible in his pants.
“Show me what it looks like to fuck my beta, Izzy. You’d be the first.”
“The first?”
“Yeah,” Vin says. “We’ve never been with a woman together. Neither of us are much for flings anymore.”
Desire swells that this moment is mine. It belongs to no one else. These men have picked me for it and I want to give it to them so very much.
I straddle Vin and plant my hands on his chest still covered by his shirt. When I sit up, the blanket cascades away.
Trick examines us through hooded eyes. I lean back and lift my ass to tease him. A moan slips out while I shift my hips to sink Vin into me.
“You are so much trouble,” he says.
“You love trouble.”
“I think I might. You gonna sit there, or can you make him orgasm?”
“She’s been edging me for over an hour,” Vin adds. “Pretty sure my balls are in septic shock.”
Trick chuckles and says, “In that case, come here, Izzy.”
“Fuck that!” Vin scowls, but Trick holds up a hand.
“Have a little faith,” Trick replies.
And I do. I know this man. He wouldn’t leave Vin high and dry.
So to speak.
My muscles ache and slick coats my skin in a sticky mess. I crawl off Vin and flop onto the floor.
The couch is destroyed. It’ll probably smell like me forever. They’ll have to replace it before the new omega gets here.
Take that, bitch.
While I’m inching my way weakly to Trick, I plot to mark every piece of furniture in the house with my scent.
Trick unzips and slides his pants and boxers past his knees. When I’m sitting at his feet, he pumps his already hard shaft. His expression is stoic, but eagerness shines in his eyes.
“Suck my dick like a good girl, omega.”
No need to tell me twice.
I bat his hands away and maneuver him into my mouth. Precum already coats the tip, and I eagerly swallow it down.
Trick groans and his head drops onto the couch backrest. I lick and suck him fully, his cock hitting the back of my throat at my sloppy attempt at a too-eager blowjob.
He rests a hand on the nape of my neck and slows me down. My alpha directs me with gentle pressure.
My hand works in time with my mouth, and it’s enough to make him curse.
“Now, Vin,” he grunts.
Hands behind me shift my hips so that I’m on all fours. I try to look back, but Trick’s hand on my head keeps me focused where he wants me.
Vin fucks me from behind, his hard cock spearing into me in frantic, harsh thrusts while Trick demands I perform the blowjob he wants.
As I roll my tongue along the underside of his dick, I suck as hard as I can to see if he’ll offer more.
And I squeeze as hard as I possibly can around Vin.
My cunt aches. I don’t think I can come again, not for at least a little while. The use is bordering on too much.
Hormones still rage in my system and demand more. I need to feel his cock jump inside me. Barring that, I need something to lock around.
I whimper, and Vin slaps my ass hard enough I jump.
“Almost ... Fuck...” Vin groans as his hips stutter and he braces himself as deeply inside me as he can. His cum is warm and so satisfying.
I did that. This moment is mine.
It makes me lose concentration on Trick, but the big alpha doesn’t force it. He lets me shake and shiver in pleasure while Vin finishes.
A contented calm settles over me, and finally some of the tension ebbs away. I rest my head on Trick’s thick thigh.
Trick strokes my hair and Vin falls forward to hug me from behind.
I half-heartedly attempt to pump my hand for Trick, but he rests his own palm over mine.
“In a bit,” he murmurs. “Delayed gratification will make it sweeter. Relax for now.”
We might end the night with another movie—this one chosen by Trick where we spend the middle third waiting for his knot to deflate—but it has to be the best night I’ve ever had.
Sadness roils within me.
Suddenly, I understand not only why omegas join packs, but also what it means to find something good.
I want this to be right. With them.
Maybe I’m getting swept up in what they’re building, or because Trick’s older than me by several years, or maybe playing house is bleeding into reality.
It can’t, though.
They aren’t a pack. Potential packs don’t get omegas. Neither do brand-new bonds. And only a single alpha? I don’t really know where Mason stands with them.
It’s all a pipe dream.
Thoughts for foolish daydreams that undermine the meager joy I’ll be able to scratch out in my final reality.
Jolie’s offer grows more enticing, if only to save myself the potential for heartache.
A chronicle of Brad’s exploits the last several weeks scrolls through my mind and I catalog the tenor of his responses.
He’s close. I can feel it.
No, I can do this.I can. I’ve done it for years. What’s a few more weeks?
Tonight was a release for all of us.
But that’s all it was.
Fun.
Stop being excited for more “fun,” Izzy.