Chapter Three
Charlotte
"Oh good," Alex says happily when he opens the door to their palatial brownstone at exactly noon, ushering her inside. "You're right on time, and just in time for lunch. Tomas is making chicken parm."
Alex's dark trimmed beard glints in the morning light with slivers of silver that hadn't been there the last time she saw him, although the way his mouth pulls into an easy smile is exactly the same as she remembers.
The skin around his eyes crinkle as he looks down at her and she thinks it somehow makes him look even more handsome.
She pulls her gaze away from him as he escorts her into a massive entryway that practically gleams with marble tiled floors and a crystal chandelier above them. A grand staircase looms behind them like something out of a period film.
He leads her around it towards the back of the house where she can smell something delicious cooking. They pass by a large formal sitting room and a powder room as he leads her towards the part of the house where the scent of roasting chicken and sweet tomato sauce grows stronger.
The kitchen is massive and gleaming with industrial grade appliances and smooth granite countertops. A wall of floor to ceiling windows reveals a small, fenced garden oasis in the midst of the busy city.
Silas is sitting in a breakfast nook in front of the windows, working at his computer while Tomas cooks lunch.
The alphas seem to be so companionable in the silence they share together, content simply to exist in the same space.
A hallmark of what a strong bond they must have as a pack.
They both look up at the same time as she enters, pinning her in place with the double weight of their gazes.
"Hello, Miss Hines," Silas greets her first, a smile on his face as he shuts his computer and stands. "How are you today? Did you find the place okay?"
"Good," she says, but her voice comes out as a squeak. She blushes and clears her throat before trying again. "Good, thank you. Yes, it wasn't too far, thank you. It smells delicious in here."
Tomas smiles a little at that, barely a quirk of his lips, but she doesn't miss it. Please, please don't let her make a fool of herself, she begs any deity that might be listening.
"Thank you, Miss Hines. Lunch will be served momentarily. Please, sit at the table." He gestures through to the grand dining room that is connected to the kitchen through a pair of French doors.
There's original crown moulding on the ceiling in the dining room. A table, that looks like it could easily seat eighteen, is set with four spots at the end closest to them.
Silas pulls out a chair for her, while Alex settles into the seat beside her.
Tomas follows a moment later, holding the pan of steaming chicken parm in his oven mitted hands.
Without asking, he fills her plate, dishing out a delicious smelling steaming chicken cutlet drowning in sauce and cheese followed by a generous serving of Caesar salad.
She squirms in her seat with some foreign emotion, never having been served like this before. He adds a grating of fresh parmesan to her salad.
There is no "tell me when to stop" involved like she's seen in movies. He simply decides for her and adds it to her plate. The combined care and dominance in the act send a shiver of pleasure through her, which he politely pretends not to notice.
He places the dishes in the centre of the table and takes the seat across from her as he, Silas, and Alex begin to fill their own plates in easy, practiced synchronicity.
"Miss Hines, where do you work that did not require proof of residence to secure your position?" Tomas breaks the silence. His voice is stern, brooking no allowance for her to avoid the question as they begin to eat.
Why did he want to know that?
"A bar," she mumbles, not looking at them as she toys with her food. Shame roils inside her, making her suddenly unable to eat, despite how good the food looks. "I'm a waitress. They pay me under the table."
They say nothing and she feels a blush creep onto her cheeks. She was a master's student with peer-reviewed publications who was working getting her ass groped for $6 an hour plus tips.
"You've never done something like this before?" Silas asks. She knows from the way he asks that he's not asking about her waitressing job.
"Never," she says quickly, still unable to look at them.
She focuses on the table in front of her to try and stop the blush from staining her cheeks and making her look like the tomato sauce in front of them.
"Gwen was at the bar when I was working a shift last week.
She gave me her email and said she could help me out.
And then next thing I know I'm meeting you. "
Silas smiles a little. "I'm glad she introduced us. I really hope we are able to help you, Ms. Hines."
She suppresses another shiver at the suggestive undertones in his voice. Remembering the emails they'd exchanged, before she'd known it was them, they had said they needed an omega's moderating influence...
She cannot help the question that bubbles out of her mouth.
"Why exactly are you looking for something like this?" She asks, a small frown on her face as she finally looks up at them. "I mean, surely you guys could get whoever you want. Why would you want to... like this?"
Alex grins broadly at her compliment. He had always been the easiest to be around, the least intimidating of the three, despite being the largest in size. He was close to a foot and a half taller than her, and his shoulders were broad, even for an alpha. It had made her feel so safe and protected.
"We want a girl to spoil," he says, his voice light. "Don't have a lot of time to find one, though. Gwen's an old friend of mine from college; she's been trying to convince us to let her find us someone for a while. She said she'd find us someone perfect and it looks like she was right."
He winks at her when he sees her peek over at him and she finds herself blushing again.
"Charlotte," Tomas says, drawing her attention back to him. "Are you done eating?"
She looks down at her plate in surprise to find he was right.
She had finished eating, having cleaned the plate of every last bite.
She hadn't had the money to eat properly lately, and this lunch was possibly the most delicious meal she'd ever eaten in her whole life.
If they weren't there, she might even lick her plate clean.
She nods at him.
"Answer with your words," he says, his alpha dominance lacing through every word. "Always answer us with your words."
"Y-yes," she stutters at the order. "Yes, I'm finished, Mr. Front. It was delicious, thank you."
Something about her using his title seems to make his lips twitch again, as if fighting another smile.
"We would like to take you upstairs and fuck you now. Are you amenable to that?"
The shock at the lewdness and bluntness of his words silences her. Her eyes wide as saucers, all Charlotte can do is nod her head. She catches her mistake quickly, using her words to answer him, just as he'd told her to. "Y-yes, Mr. Front."
Their scents seem to grow stronger and even Alex loses his grin.
She smells something woody and spicy, something warm and blanketing, and something sweet and smoky growing in the air around her.
They had always worn scent blockers in the office as a matter of curtesy and the full weight of their combined scents made her head swim now.
She was unaccustomed to alpha pheromones, avoiding them as much as possible, but she could not remember any of them ever affecting her this way before.
Their eyes become predatory, but for some reason it doesn't make her scared. She feels a warmth bloom low in her belly again.
She's doing this. She's going to have sex with them for money. This is how she's going to pay her tuition.
They stand up and she automatically follows them, her body in tune to their movements like she was attached to them with marionette strings.
"You said you haven't had a heat," Silas says, as they crowd around her, his hand on her lower back, leading her back to the staircase in the front foyer.
The whole thing seems almost polite, as if they're just back at the office escorting her back to her desk after a lunch break.
If not for the undeniable scent of his arousal rolling off of him, snaking through her nose and settling low in her belly as her body responds to it on instinct.
"That's correct," she says, staring at the art on the walls as they pass, feeling like she's in a dream. There's no way this was real, right?
"That is quite late," he says with a frown. "Do you have any medical conditions we should be aware of?"
"No," she replies quickly. "Just a late bloomer, the doctor said."
She blushes again at the way her words sound to her ears. Could she sound any more sophomoric?
He hums at that, a smile tugging at his lips again. She didn't feel like he was mocking her, though.
"The information Gwen sent us didn't list any sexual limits," Alex says next, his grin back on his face and his eyes hot as he rakes over her form. "So, we can do whatever we want to your sweet little body as long as it's not too extreme?"
Was it possible for her to blush more? It must be, because her face somehow becomes even hotter. His words are coarse and filthy, and it should make her horrified and uncomfortable, but it doesn't. "Yes, Mr. Butler."
They had reached the top of the stairs now and Tomas leads them to a double doored bedroom at the end of the hall.
"This is my room. The bathroom is here." He gestures to another door just inside the room. "Take as long as you need."
She quickly shuts herself into the privacy of the offered bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her and plastering her back to it. It was so gentlemanly to offer her this chance to freshen up, but somehow this time alone was only making her clammier.
Her breath heaves in her chest like she's just run a marathon, unable to believe what she is even doing, feeling as if she is playing a part in someone else's life.
The three figureheads of the publishing house had always been mysterious and forbidden.
It had felt safe enough crushing on them when they had never made a move towards her, never even indicated they were aware that she liked them.
She thought it had to have been obvious with the way she could never take her eyes off them.
They were always so politely detached in response, never offering more than an offhand compliment on her hair or praising some work she had done.
They might thank her for the coffee she brought them in their offices or tell her to enjoy her weekend.
But never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she'd end up here.
In their bedroom. Having sex with all three of them.
She hadn't even known they were a pack. Packs weren't that common without an omega, alphas rarely able to tolerate each other in their spaces in such an intimate way.
It spoke volumes how comfortable the three of them were together, almost as if they were three parts of one whole.
And from the way they had been looking at her, that one whole was about to swallow her whole.
She splashes water on her face, smelling her armpits to make sure she didn't have an odour. Take a deep breath, Charlotte, she coaches herself. Good, now breathe out to the count of five. Good. Everything is going to be fine.
"I can do this," she mutters to herself.
There were whole industries built on women faking pleasure for money. She could definitely do this. She had to. If she didn't, she was going to be screwed in a totally different way.