Chapter 13
bishop
Jude shows up at our room after dinner with his sleeves pulled over his hands and the pretty blush from the courtyard still sitting on his lips.
Hollis goes rigid beside the desk the second he sees him, every inch of him fighting the urge to cross the room too fast. Jude’s gaze flicks over Hollis’ face, down to his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, then back to me with the sharp little lift of his brow that usually means someone is about to become his problem.
“Handle your Alpha before he vibrates through the floor.”
Hollis makes a wounded sound under the purr already rumbling out of him, and Jude steps inside like he has every intention of pretending the sound doesn’t pull at him.
He does a quick sweep of the room. Door, window, desk, bed, the drawer Hollis cleared for him, the blanket folded on Hollis' pillow.
His blanket. The ugly heavy one from his nest this morning, stolen with no subtlety and even less shame.
Jude stops when he sees it. “You stole my blanket.”
Hollis looks at the blanket like he hoped it had become invisible. “Borrowed.”
“From my nest.”
“Borrowed with emotional intent,” Hollis says, then immediately looks at me because even he knows that sentence needs supervision.
I point at the chair before he can make it worse. “Sit, baby.”
Hollis drops into it with embarrassing speed.
Jude watches him obey, interest slipping through the guarded set of his face.
He doesn’t say anything else about the blanket.
He climbs onto the bed and sits cross-legged near the middle, one knee touching the folded edge like he hasn’t noticed his body has already moved toward it.
I stay standing until Jude chooses where his eyes want me.
When his gaze comes back to my face, I sit on the edge of the mattress, angled toward him.
Close enough to be reached. Far enough that he has to decide.
Hollis stays in the chair, purring low, his hands still tucked away like he doesn’t trust them.
Jude keeps worrying the blanket’s edge, his gaze moving from Hollis to me and back again like he’s trying to decide which one of us is safer to look at.
Hollis stays in the chair because I put him there, but his purr has gone low enough to feel through the room.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this,” Jude says finally.
Hollis’ hands tighten on his knees and I just shoot him a small glance to stay quiet.
“I know I wanted to come here. I know I wanted the courtyard. I know I wanted you in my nest this morning.” His face colors at that, but he doesn’t turn it into a joke.
His thumb drags over the blanket seam. “But I can’t check it the way other people can.
I can’t tell myself it’s real because of scent. I don’t have that.”
I sit forward, keeping my hands where he can see them. “Then we don’t ask scent to prove it.”
Jude looks at me sharply, like he wants to reject the answer because it came too easily.
“It won’t always feel easy,” I add. “But it can still be real.”
His eyes stay on mine for a few seconds before they drop to my hand on the mattress. “And if I need things that other people don’t?”
Hollis makes a quiet sound. When Jude looks at him, Hollis' face is open in a way that makes him seem younger. “Then we learn them,” he says. “That’s all.”
I keep my voice even. “You already told us some of them. Hollis’ purr gives you comfort and you prefer it that we’re facing you when we talk. And we only touch where you put it first.”
Jude breathes out slowly. “That sounds like a lot.”
“It’s you,” Hollis says, his voice going rough around the edges. “So it doesn’t feel like a lot.”
Jude looks down quickly, but not fast enough to hide what that does to him and I can see the exact moment he decides not to retreat from what Hollis just gave him.
After a moment, Jude shifts on the bed and looks at Hollis’ chest. “Come here.”
Hollis moves slowly this time, like he understands the invitation is not something to celebrate too loudly. He kneels on the mattress in front of Jude, hands open on his thighs. Jude watches those hands before placing his palm over Hollis’ chest.
Jude’s shoulders sink a fraction. His eyes close, then open again, clearer than before. He reaches for me with his other hand, fingers stopping near my wrist. I meet him halfway, and he draws my hand to his jaw himself.
For a while, that’s all it is. Jude holding both of us in the ways that make sense to him. Hollis' purr under one palm. My hand at his face. My voice quiet when I tell him, “We’re here.”
Jude nods once. “I want more,” he whispers.
Hollis goes very still, but he keeps breathing this time. Jude notices, and something in his expression softens because Hollis is trying so hard not to turn the moment into pressure.
“With both of us?” I ask.
Jude looks at Hollis first. Then at me. “Yes.”
I brush my thumb along his cheek and let that answer be enough.
Jude leans into my hand, his palm pressing more firmly against Hollis’ chest as the purr rolls through him.
Jude kisses me first, his fingers still wrapped around my wrist like he’s anchoring himself to the touch he chose.
I keep my other hand on the mattress where he can see it, resisting the pull to gather him closer before he asks.
Jude’s eyes flick down, then back up to my face, and the next kiss has more weight behind it.
Jude pulls back from me and looks at Hollis, our Alpha’s purr breaking a little. Hollis is still kneeling where Jude put him, his shoulders taut from holding himself in place. Our Omega grins as he kisses Hollis next, his purr catching before it finds its rhythm again.
When Jude pulls back, Hollis’ eyes are bright enough that Jude’s face heats immediately.
“Don’t make that face,” Jude says, quieter than usual.
Hollis swallows. “I’m trying not to. You just... I like kissing you.”
I snort, tugging Hollis into a kiss of our own, tasting Jude’s sweetness on my Alpha’s lips. I’m not sure how we waited this long. Jude tugs at my shirt, clothes going flying before he tugs me down onto the mattress fully, part of me immediately working to ease Jude’s nerves.
I gently kiss the back of his neck. “You’re here. Hollis is right in front of you and I’m behind you.”
Jude’s lashes lower. Hollis' purr fills the spaces between each sentence. Jude listens to both, his breathing uneven at first and then steadier. He turns his face into my palm, presses his fingers more firmly to Hollis, and makes the next choice without looking away from either of us.
He reaches for Hollis’ hand and puts it at his waist. “I don’t want to feel handled,” he says.
“You won’t be,” I answer.
He twists around and looks at me then, and I understand what he’s asking underneath it. Not for a promise that nothing will scare him. Not for a speech about patience. He wants to know whether he can want this without losing the right to decide what happens to him.
I keep my hand where he put it. “You choose. We follow.”
Jude’s breath catches once. Hollis' hand tightens at his waist, then eases when Jude glances down. It’s a small correction, made before anyone has to say anything, and Jude’s expression shifts when he sees it.
“Please,” Jude whispers, brushing his lips over mine.
The absolute honor our Omega is giving me isn’t lost on me.
I reach between us, watching Jude’s face the whole time.
He doesn’t look away. His breath catches when I press one finger inside his slick hole, but he doesn’t tense up.
He just breathes through it, one hand still braced on my shoulder, the other holding onto Hollis’ wrist like an anchor.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” I say.
Jude shakes his head. “Don’t stop.”
I work him open slowly, adding a second finger when he starts rocking down onto my hand. His forehead drops to rest against mine. Behind him, Hollis' purr deepens, and I feel the vibration travel through Jude’s body and into mine, where we’re pressed together.
“You’re doing so well,” I tell him, voice low. “Taking it so nicely for us.”
Jude makes a soft, embarrassed sound and pushes harder onto my fingers. I crook them just right and he gasps, his hips jerking forward as he soaks my palm with slick. Hollis’ free hand comes up to steady him at the waist, but he doesn’t pull. He just holds him there, letting Jude move how he wants.
When Jude starts pushing back onto three of my fingers with needy little rolls of his hips, I pull my hand away. He makes a quiet, frustrated sound that goes straight through me that has me lining up against his hole.
Jude braces both hands on my shoulders and sinks forward onto me in one slow, careful motion. His mouth falls open as I fill him, and I have to grit my teeth against the tight, perfect heat of him.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
I hold still once he’s fully seated, letting him adjust. Hollis is pressed right up against his back now, chest to Jude’s spine, arms loosely around his waist. Jude rocks forward slowly, taking what he needs.
Every time he rocks forward, I meet him with a small thrust upward, and the sound he makes is wrecked.
Hollis stays with him the whole time, rocking gently against his back in time with our movements, his mouth brushing the side of Jude’s neck.
“You feel so good,” I tell Jude, my voice rough. “So tight around me. You’re perfect like this.”
Jude’s hands tighten on my shoulders, his eyes glassy as his lips part. He’s not trying to hide how much he’s feeling anymore. Every time I praise him, his body responds, clenching around me, his hips stuttering, a soft sound slipping out of his throat.
Hollis' mouth drags along the curve of Jude’s shoulder, Jude shivering between us.
I keep talking to him. “That’s it. Take what you need. We’ve got you.”