Chapter 25 Amber
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Amber
Consciousness returns slowly, dragging me up from the dark depths of sleep like a anchor through deep water.
The first thing I register is warmth. Not the fuzzy, electric-blanket warmth of a bed, but a solid, encompassing heat radiating against my back and front.
I’m tangled.
An arm is heavy across my waist, a leg thrown over my thighs, trapping me. I blink my eyes open.
The room is pitch black, save for a faint red glow from a digital clock on the nightstand. It reads 3:14 a.m.
Memories crash over me in a disjointed, erotic montage. The kitchen counter. The leather sofa. The floor.
Knox holding me down while I shattered. Eli rolling me onto my side to lock us together. Fallon between my legs, his mouth driving me to a scream that I don’t even remember making.
They had me. Over and over again. I lost count of how many times I came, how many times I felt them spill inside me.
My body aches. A deep, bone-deep throb in my hips and a tender soreness between my legs that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.
I shift, testing my limbs, and the arm around my waist tightens.
“Stop moving,” a voice mumbles against my neck. It’s gravelly, rough with sleep. Fallon.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whisper, raspy.
“You smell good,” he says, burying his face in my hair. He inhales deeply. “Like us.”
I try to sit up, but his hold is too restrictive. “Fallon, I have to go. I need to check my phone. Norah will be worried.”
“She knows you’re with us,” he grumbles, but he finally loosens his grip. He rolls onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the faint red light. “She probably knows we’re keeping you hostage.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
I squint, looking around the room. It must be Fallon’s bedroom. It’s messy—clothes piled on a chair, books stacked on the floor.
I’m wearing a T-shirt. A massive, white T-shirt that falls to my mid-thighs. It smells like detergent and Knox. It must be his.
The fabric is soft against my skin.
I slide carefully out of bed. My feet hit the concrete floor, instantly cold. I look for the light switch, navigating by the glow of the clock.
“Looking for this?” Fallon’s voice cuts through the dark. He’s sitting up, the sheets pooling around his waist as he turns the lights on.
He pushes the covers back, swinging his legs out of bed.
He stands up. He’s completely naked.
My eyes widen, and I can’t look away. The red light from the clock casts shadows over his body, highlighting the ridges of his abs, the cut of his hips, the tattoos that ink his skin.
He stretches his arms over his head, his muscles rippling and shifting, looking like a predator waking from a hunt. Heat floods my belly, instant and distracting.
I remember how those hips felt between my thighs, how his hands gripped my waist. My body reacts instantly, a traitorous throb of want that has no business existing after a night like I just had.
“You’re staring, Sunshine,” he says, a smirk in his tone.
He walks over to a dresser, completely unashamed, and pulls on a pair of boxers. The cotton slides up his muscular thighs, hiding the view.
“I’m... admiring the artwork,” I manage, my face heating.
He laughs, a low, sleepy sound. He grabs a pair of jeans and steps into them, buttoning them up. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
He takes my hand. His palm is warm, callused, and twice the size of mine. He leads me into the hallway.
The warehouse is silent, the high ceilings looming in the dark. We walk past the living room, and I see my purse sitting on the kitchen island.
“Found it,” I say, relief washing over me. I dig through it, pulling out my phone.
The screen lights up, blinding me for a second. I have three texts from Norah.
Just checking in. Everything okay?
It’s late. Just want to make sure you’re safe.
Maisie asked for you at bedtime. I told her you were working late.
The timestamps are from two hours ago.
“Yikes,” I murmur. “I need to go.”
“You could stay,” Fallon says. He leans against the counter, watching me. “The bed is big enough.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “Maisie needs me there in the morning. And Jude... if he wakes up and I’m not there...”
“I get it.” He nods, pushing off the counter. “I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to. I can get a cab.”
“I’m driving you.” He picks my keys up off the counter where I must have dropped them earlier. “Not negotiable.”
I look down at the shirt I’m wearing. “Do you have my dress?”
“In the wash. It was... a casualty.” He grins. “That’s Knox’s shirt, by the way. He put it on you after you passed out. He was worried you’d get cold in the night. Alphas run hot, but we don’t want our Omega freezing.”
The word “our” settles over me, heavy and permanent.
“I need to change,” I say.
He crosses his arms, leaning back. “I’m not stopping you.”
I pull the white shirt up and over my head. The air in the kitchen is cool, raising goosebumps on my skin. I stand there in just my panties, clutching the shirt.
Fallon, who was putting on his jeans, goes still. His gaze drops, tracing over my collarbones, my breasts, my stomach. The look isn’t hungry exactly, just... intense. Reverent.
“You’re the prettiest woman I have ever seen,” he says softly.
The compliment hits me harder than the sex did. I flush, looking away. “Stop it.”
“I mean it.” He walks over to me. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His knuckles brush my cheek. “I could look at you all day.”
He leans in, kissing me. It starts slow, a press of lips, but then he shifts, his hand cupping the back of my neck.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. I taste the muskier taste of Fallon.
I lean into him, my hands resting on his hips. I can feel him, half-hard against my stomach through his jeans. He’s insatiable.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “I want you again.”
“Again?” I let out a breathless laugh. “We only slept for three hours. You’re impossible.”
“Greedy,” he corrects. “How about I eat you out one more time before you have to go? Please?”
My legs threaten to give out. The thought of his mouth on me again...
“Okay,” I whisper.
He doesn’t wait. He lifts me up, setting me on the edge of the cold kitchen island. The granite shocks my thighs, but I don’t care.
He drops to his knees, pushing my legs apart.
“Fallon...”
“Lean back,” he commands.
I do, bracing my hands on the counter behind me. He pulls my panties down my legs, tossing them aside. Then he leans in, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.
“You’re swollen,” he murmurs. “You’re going to be sore today.”
“Shut up and do it.”
He laughs, then his mouth is on me.
He doesn’t tease. He doesn’t draw it out. He licks into me, a wide, flat stroke that has me gasping, my head falling back.
He holds my thighs open, his grip firm, eating me out like he’s starving. He sucks my clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves, and I see stars behind my closed eyelids.
It doesn’t take long. I’m already wired from last night, from the sight of him naked.
His fingers slide inside me, curling to hit that spot, and I come apart, my cry echoing in the high ceilings of the warehouse. I shake, riding out the waves of pleasure, my hands tangling in his hair.
He laps at me, cleaning every drop, before standing up. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking proud of himself.
“Better?” he asks, pulling my panties back up.
“My knees are jelly,” I admit.
He grins, helping me off the counter. “I’ll take the credit for that.”
He picks up my dress and helps me back into it.
We grab my coat and purse. The drive to my house is quiet, the snow falling in heavy flakes under the headlights of his truck. He holds my hand on the center console, his thumb rubbing lazy circles over my knuckles.
“You okay?” he asks as he turns onto my street.
“Yeah.” I look out at the dark houses. “Just... a lot.”
“Good a lot or bad a lot?”
“Confusing a lot.”
He squeezes my hand. “You know you can talk to us about anything, right?”
I nod.
“I wanted to talk to you about last night?”
I look at him. “What about it?”
“I don’t know if you’ve had the talk with Eli and Knox, but they were basically monks before they met you. And I have been sexually active, but I’ve never ever fucked anyone without a condom. Never.”
“Never?” I breathe out.
“Never, Amber. You were my first. And I do get tested regularly so I can promise you that I’m clean. I just… I wanted you to know that.”
I kiss his cheek. “Thank you for telling me, but you don’t have to worry about that either way.”
His eyebrow cocks in confusion. I want to tell him that there’s no chance I can risk getting pregnant again…not after last time. But he looks so earnest, and the last few hours have been so perfect, so I say nothing.
He pulls up in front of Jude’s place, killing the engine. The house is dark.
He reaches over, unbuckling my seatbelt for me, and pulls me into a kiss. This one is slow and sweet.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he says.
We walk up the shoveled path. The cold air bites at my face, clearing the last of the haze from the orgasm. At the door, he stops, turning me to face him.
“Go get some sleep, Sunshine.”
“Thanks for... everything.”
“Anytime.”
He kisses my forehead, then my lips, and waits while I unlock the door. I step inside, the silence of the house wrapping around me. I watch him walk back to his truck, his head ducked against the snow.
I close the door, locking it. The house is freezing. I turn around to hang up my coat.
A prickle runs up my spine.
I freeze, my hand hovering on the hook. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I look toward the living room window, but the curtains are drawn.
I’m being paranoid. I have to be. I just had the most intense night of my life with three men who scare me a little with how much they make me feel, and my brain is searching for threats.
Luke is miles away.
Still, I hurry to the window. I peek through a slit in the curtains. The street is empty. The snow is falling undisturbed on the sidewalk. No footprints but mine and Fallon’s.
I force myself to breathe. It’s just the dark. Just the fear that always lives under my skin, waiting for a chance to ruin the good things.
I turn away from the window, flipping the lock on the door just to be sure. I walk through the dark house, heading toward my bedroom.
In my room, Maisie is fast asleep, one leg thrown out, her mouth slightly open. I shed my coat and boots, crawling into bed next to her.
She snuggles into me immediately, seeking warmth.
I wrap my arm around her, burying my face in her hair. She smells like she always does, like shampoo and safety.
I lie there, listening to her breathe. The memories of the night try to crowd in—the feeling of their hands, the sound of their voices, the way they looked at me—but I push them back.
For now, I just want to be here. In this bed. With my daughter.
I tighten my hold on her, a small, happy smile touching my lips despite the fear. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.