Chapter Nineteen – Rourke #3
But I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I’ve saved omegas, I’ve rescued kidnapped omegas when they’re mid-heat, and I’ve never felt like this. This is insane levels of desire, to the point where I can’t think straight. I hardly feel like myself.
“We should—” Again, I want to say we should go back in there, but I have to stop myself. “—change out of these wet clothes, at least.” Asher and I are soaking, while Mason has a thick muddy footprint from Jess’s thrown shoe on his shirt.
“Right,” Mason says, glancing down at said mud on his stomach. “Then what?”
Inside the bathroom, the sound of the water shuts off.
I motion for everyone to move into the hall.
Now that Jess isn’t mere feet away, now that there are whole walls and a door between us, it’s easier to ignore the aching in my balls and the throbbing in the tip of my cock. I lead the others into the hall.
I tell them, “Meet me in my room after.”
Neither of them argue, not even Mason, who I assume is primed to be argumentative. But right now, it’s clear we’re on the same page when it comes to Jess.
Asher and Mason wander off to change, and I do the same.
After I make it to my room, I strip out of my sopping wet clothes and pick out another pair of pants and a shirt that were left here by their parents.
I must be a little bit bigger than their dads, because everything is just a bit tight, including the pants.
Yeah, there’s no hiding a hard-on in pants like these.
Once I’m dressed, I sit on the wooden chest situated in front of the bed. It creaks beneath my weight but holds steady, and I lean forward, setting my elbows on my knees and folding my hands together.
I said I’d take Jess out of here if Asher and Mason proved they could not handle themselves, but I didn’t even think of the possibility that I would have issues.
She’s my scent match, so of course it’s near impossible for me to resist her.
Frankly, I don’t know how she can act the way she does; it’s almost like it’s not registering deep inside her, the connection between us.
Mason is the first to join me, having only needed to change his shirt.
He leans on the wall near the dresser, a good six or seven feet away from me, and he folds his arms over his chest. “I imagine you want to grill me about what almost happened between me and Jess.” He doesn’t sound thrilled about it.
If anything, he sounds annoyed. “Whatever. Ask whatever the fuck you want.”
He’s expecting a grilling, maybe even me yelling at him—and if things were how I anticipated they’d be, if nothing had changed, then I probably would.
“Just tell me the truth,” I say, keeping calm. There’s no use in getting upset over any of this. “Is there something between you two?”
He looks away. “Does it matter? You’re apparently her scent match, which means me and my brother are chopped fucking liver.” Though he tries to sound like he doesn’t give a shit, he fails. It’d be obvious to anyone with working ears he cares so much more than he’s willing to admit.
“It matters,” I tell him. “It matters because… because maybe, after this whole heat thing, we could be on the same team. Your brother and I discussed it a little when we were at the lake. I’m not saying it’s going to be smooth and easy, but—”
“You mean form a pack?” Mason scoffs. “I don’t want a fucking pack.”
Right then, Asher walks into the room. He must overhear what his brother said, because he adds, “Maybe you’d be happier in one.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know something’s off with you. Jess noticed it immediately. I should’ve seen it sooner. I’m a shitty brother.”
Mason closes his eyes and groans. “Don’t say that. It doesn’t matter. I don’t fucking matter—”
I stand and approach the bickering duo, addressing the other über in the room: “You do. You matter.” I glance at Asher.
“You both matter. That’s not up for debate.
If you want to try arguing about it, then argue with me—but let me warn you: no one wins an argument with me.
When it comes to something I hold true, I’m as stubborn as they come. ”
Mason quiets, and Asher only gives me a nod.
“Now, unless you want to argue about it, we should talk about Jess and what we’re going to do.
She’s going to start showing pre-heat symptoms soon.
She’s going to be extra hungry and clingy, and she’s going to want to nest, but I don’t want her to put any more strain on that ankle until we know it’s okay.
That means we’re going to have to take care of her, whether she wants us to or not. ”
I quiet my voice when I say, “And I have the feeling it’s not going to be easy. She can’t be matched before her heat.”
Mason is the one who says, “You keep bringing up that word: matched. That means being accepted into a pack. It doesn’t mean she can’t fuck.” Both Asher and I look at him, and he only shrugs. “What? I’m just saying.”
“I haven’t seen the will, so I can’t speak on the language used in it,” I tell him, but in the back of my mind, I do wonder if I should contact Darius and see if he can’t scrounge up that will and have Alabaster Security’s lawyers read the fine print. It would be good to know, for obvious reasons.
If it’s just the word matched, then technically Mason is right. You can fuck someone without being matched to them. The three of us aren’t even a pack; it’s only been mentioned that, maybe, once all this is done, we could be in one together if we all agree, if we can get Jess on the same page.
What might be difficult is avoiding any bonding bites.
Those normally happen inside a pack, although of course there are stories of omegas being bonded against their will by unscrupulous alphas.
There are a lot of shitty people out there, but I don’t think anyone in this room is a part of that number.
“If my boss can find that will and we get clarification,” I slowly say, “it doesn’t mean we throw all caution to the wind. We would still need to try to hold ourselves back. I don’t know if Jess is ready for something like that.”
Mason frowns slightly. “If she’s really your scent match, how have you two not jumped each other’s bones? I thought scent matches are impossible to resist, that when you find yours you just know.”
“I can’t speak on how it’s been for her, but it’s definitely been difficult for me.” I rub the back of my neck. “She always wears that scent-blocking cream. That helps. I don’t wear anything like that, though, so I don’t know how she acts like I’m just another alpha. It’s almost like…”
Asher speaks up, “Almost like what?”
“Almost like she can’t smell me.” The moment I say it, it doesn’t sound right, but then again, stranger things have happened.
She did have a life-threatening, near-death experience before she presented.
Maybe something got lost along the way, or some wires got crossed in her head or something.
It makes as much sense as anything else.
Trauma, mental or physical, can do wild things to the body and brain.
“That would explain it,” Asher mutters as he taps his chin. “But why wouldn’t she have said something?”
With a huff, Mason asks, “Would you want to share personal details like that with everyone you meet? Especially with a guy you haven’t seen or talked to in over ten years?” His brows furrow. “Something like that isn’t exactly easy to bring up in everyday conversation.”
“You’re right. Crap. I’ve been so stupid. I really need to talk to her.” Asher looks at me when he says, “I’d like to bring up dinner to her alone tonight. I… I need to talk to her one-on-one. I wanted to do it at the lake today, but I didn’t get a chance.”
It’s probably a good thing for Jess and Asher to clear the air when it comes to their past. You can only beat around the bush so much before things become unbearable, and if there’s one thing Jess doesn’t need, it’s any extra weight on her shoulders before her heat. Or during it.
If she can’t smell…
We need to make her feel comfortable with us. We need to show her that we care about her, that we can take care of her. It’s not a deal breaker. It’s not a huge deal, because it doesn’t change the fact that she’s mine.
No matter what happens, before we leave this cabin, Jess will see the light.