18. Hudson
Hudson
Mary invited us in.
For one breath, neither Lincoln nor I moved.
We didn’t move because this time mattered differently. No heat crisis. No pain. No hotel room with a clinic appointment waiting on the other side of dawn.
Mary stood in the doorway of her bedroom wearing a robe that had slipped off one shoulder, her dark hair loose, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes clear. Nervous. Aroused. But present.
She was choosing.
Lincoln’s hand flexed once at his side.
I looked at Mary. “Are you sure?”
Her mouth curved, but the smile shook at the edges. “I invited you in, Hudson. I know you’re fond of paperwork, but my word is considered sufficient.”
“Not for this.”
That softened her.
The robe slipped another inch. She caught it with one hand. “I’m sure.”
Lincoln’s voice was low. “Both of us?”
“Yes.”
“No heat making the decision for you,” I said.
“No.”
“No pain.”
“No.”
“No thinking you owe us because of the babies.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m an omega but I don’t owe anyone my body.”
Relief hit so hard I nearly smiled. “Good.”
Lincoln made a rough sound under his breath.
Mary looked at him, and the scent of her slick deepened enough to make his expression go still.
I stepped into the room first, then moved aside so Lincoln could follow. Mary closed the door behind us.
Blankets piled toward the headboard. Our clothes tucked through them. My scarf beneath the pillow. Lincoln’s hoodie curled along one side. The ultrasound photos sat on the bedside table beneath a glass paperweight.
Two grainy little lives.
My throat tightened as Damien came to me, unwelcome and sharp.
If he knew we were here, in this room, with Mary, he would see only betrayal.
Perhaps that was what it was. The thought struck through me cold enough to make my scent pull inward.
Mary noticed. “Hudson?”
I looked at her and saw Mary. Not a crisis, not Callum McCarthy’s daughter, not the mother of our children in some abstract future I could manage from a distance.
Bare feet on the rug. Robe falling off one shoulder. Blue eyes searching my face.
“I’m here,” I said.
“You went somewhere.”
“For a second.”
“Do you want to stop?” That she asked nearly undid me.
Lincoln looked at me, his body still but his attention fierce.
I crossed to Mary and stopped close enough to touch, though not touching yet. “No. I want to be honest that this is complicated.”
Her face tightened.
I caught her chin before she could retreat into the wrong conclusion. “Not because of you.”
“Everyone says that right before it’s absolutely because of me.”
“It’s because I love a young man who hurt you, and I’m angry with him. It’s because he’ll be hurt by this, and that matters. It’s also because I want you so badly I’m having trouble remembering why any of that should be allowed to make me step away.”
Mary’s breath caught.
Lincoln was quiet behind me.
“That’s a lot for a bedroom,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
My thumb brushed her jaw. “Your robe is terrible.”
She blinked.
Lincoln laughed.
Mary’s mouth opened in outrage, and I kissed her before she could use it.
She made a small, surprised sound against me. Then her hand came up to my shirt and held on. She tasted of mint toothpaste and our matching scents. Something we still hadn’t discussed.
Mary trembled when I slid my hand to the back of her neck. Lincoln came up behind her. Mary reached back blindly and found his wrist.
“There you are,” he murmured.
“Smug,” she whispered against my mouth.
“Accurate,” he said.
Her laugh broke into a gasp when his hand settled at her waist.
I drew back enough to see her face. Her eyes were bright, pupils wide, but clear. No fever haze. No pain twisting through the scent.
“Tell us what you want,” I said.
Her throat moved. “I want...” She stopped, cheeks flushing.
Lincoln pressed his mouth to her hair. “No rush.”
“There’s quite a lot of rush, actually.”
“Then start small,” I said.
She looked at my mouth. “Kiss me again.”
I kissed her until her weight shifted forward, until her fingers tightened in my shirt, until the scent of her slick turned sweet and warm enough that Lincoln’s breath changed at her back.
“You’re both very calm about this,” she said.
“We’re not.”
“You look calm.”
Lincoln’s mouth moved against her shoulder. “He’s counting.”
“Counting what?”
“Reasons to go slowly,” Lincoln said. “He’s on about four.”
“Three,” I said.
His hand slid over her stomach and Mary went still.
I broke the kiss at once.
Lincoln’s hand stopped too. “Too much?”
She looked down at his broad hand resting over the robe, low on her belly.
“No.” Her hand covered his.
“No, it’s just...” She swallowed. “There are two of them.”
Lincoln’s voice roughened. “Aye.”
“And I still feel like me.”
I touched her face. “You’re still you.”
“With passengers.”
“Very small passengers,” Lincoln said.
“Demanding passengers.”
“We’re here to help carry the load.”
She huffed a laugh, and some of the fear left her shoulders. I kissed her forehead.
Lincoln came around and kissed her stomach through the robe.
Mary’s breath caught hard.
He stayed there, broad shoulders bent, one hand on her hip, mouth pressed to the place where our children were growing.
Her eyes filled. “Don’t make it sentimental,” she whispered.
Lincoln looked up. “It’s our future. Our babies. Our omega is carrying our babies.”
Her mouth trembled and I kissed her before she could apologize for feeling.
The robe came loose under my hands. I moved slowly, giving her time, and she let it fall open. Beneath it, she wore a soft sleep tank and panties. Ordinary. Pale blue. A little wrinkled. A lot wet.
The sight hit me harder than any lace could have.
Mary crossed one arm over her chest.
I caught her wrist gently. “Don’t hide from us.”
Her eyes narrowed despite the blush. “Better.”
The laugh got out of me before I could stop it.
Lincoln’s hand moved up her side, not touching her breast, just following the line of her ribs. “You’re beautiful.”
She looked away.
I turned her face back. “Stay with us. And believe us.”
“I’m here.”
“Here,” I said, tapping lightly beneath her chin. “Not in whatever room you go to when you think we see you in a different way than you do.”
Her eyes glistened. “That room has excellent locks.”
“And we’ll wait outside it as long as necessary. As long as it takes for you to believe.”
“That sounds inconvenient.”
Lincoln looked up. “Most things worth doing are.”
She kissed me this time, and not shyly. Her mouth opened under mine, and her hand slid into my hair. Lincoln made a low sound.
We moved her toward the bed.
She stopped at the edge. “The nest is delicate.”
Lincoln looked at the bed, then at me. “It’s structurally sound like us. The top is delicate like you.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“Never. By delicate I meant precious.”
I sat first and drew her between my knees. Lincoln stood behind her, hands at her waist, his thumbs stroking slow circles through the thin fabric of her tank.
Mary’s gaze dropped to my lap, then quickly away.
“Still compiling notes?” I asked.
“Shut up.”
“No.”
“I preferred you noble. But now I remember. You were both obscene in my heat.”
“Are you complaining?”
Lincoln kissed the side of her neck. She moaned as her words disappeared from her mouth.
I watched her eyes close, watched the pulse in her throat flutter, watched Lincoln keep his teeth carefully away from the place on her neck he wanted to claim, even though I knew what it cost him.
“You liked that in your heat,” he murmured. “Our mouths.”
Mary’s eyes opened. Her blush deepened. “Did I?”
“Aye.”
“You liked his mouth there,” I said.
Her gaze snapped to mine.
“And my hand here.” I touched her hip, then waited.
She nodded.
I slid my hand over the curve of her hip to her thigh.
“You liked being held between us.”
Her breath shook.
“You liked not having to hold yourself up.”
That one struck deeper.
Mary swallowed. “Don’t stop.”
Lincoln’s hand tightened at her waist. “We won’t.”
“Unless you tell us to,” I said.
“Yes. I know. I know, Hudson. But I’m not telling you to stop, I’m telling you to keep going.” She was impatient and breathless
I kissed the inside of her wrist. “Good.”
We undressed her slowly. Lifting the tank over her head, then sliding her panties down her legs. Her breath caught when Lincoln kissed her shoulder and his palm spread over her stomach.
“It’s a bit squishy.”
Lincoln stopped her with a look.
“Fine,” she muttered. “No slandering the premises.”
“Correct,” I said.
“This is a very strict homeowners’ association.”
“Extremely. No bending the rules or being rude to the owners.”
She laughed, then gasped when I kissed her belly.
I kissed the skin beneath her navel, the softness she’d insulted in my car, the place where two heartbeats had appeared on a screen.
“Hudson.” Mary’s fingers slid into my hair.
“I’m here.”
“I know.” Her voice had gone small again, not frightened so much as wondering.
I looked up at her. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel to be so wanted like this.”
Lincoln rested his forehead against the back of her shoulder.
I rose and cupped her face. “You’ll learn.”
Her eyes filled. “You make everything sound possible.”
Lincoln turned her gently and kissed her, then whispered, “Anything is possible.”
I watched them, one hand on her waist. His kiss was warmer than mine, less controlled. Mary softened into him. Her hands moved over his shoulders, tentative at first, then more certain when he groaned against her mouth.
Desire moved through me, sharp enough to hurt.
Under it came Damien again, at the kitchen table asking if his mother would come back, and on the phone with his voice cracking around the words my girlfriend.
My hand stilled on Mary’s waist.
She turned from Lincoln. “Hudson.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For thinking?”
“For thinking of him now.”
She didn’t flinch. She touched my cheek, awkwardly tender. “He was part of your life before I was.”
“That doesn’t make what he did to you acceptable. Or this simple.”
“But it doesn’t make you wrong,” she said. Her hand stayed on my face. “Or me,” she added, quieter.
I kissed her palm. “No,” I said. “Not you.”
Lincoln’s voice came rough. “Never you.”
Mary breathed in, then nodded as if she was choosing to believe us for one night.
One night was enough to start.
I lay back against the pillows and pulled her to me. She came willingly, knees on either side of my hips, hands braced on my chest. Lincoln moved behind her, broad and warm, kissing along her shoulder while I stroked my hands down her thighs.
She looked down at me. “This feels very organized.”
“Would you prefer chaos?”
“Historically, I seem to choose it.”
“Not tonight.”
Her mouth softened.
“No,” she said. “Not tonight.”
I slid my finger between her thighs. She was slick and warm, ready enough that my control nearly fractured. Her hips jerked, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth.
“Don’t hide the sound,” Lincoln murmured.
“Bossy.”
He laughed. “I can be.”
I worked her slowly with my fingers, watching her face.
Hearing her little moans, and seeing the tiny crease between her brows when pleasure startled her.
The way her hand pressed flat over my heart when she needed to steady herself.
The way she looked embarrassed by every soft noise and then made another when Lincoln cupped her breasts from behind.
He was careful. No grabbing, nothing that made her less than the whole of herself.
“You liked this too,” he said against her ear.
Mary’s eyes fluttered. “In my heat?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got excellent taste when compromised.”
I pressed my thumb against her clit, and made a slow circle, and her joke broke into a moan. “And now?” I asked.
Her hips moved into my hand, chasing more. “Still excellent.”
Lincoln smiled against her shoulder.
I shifted beneath her, freeing myself enough that the head of my cock brushed her thigh. Her eyes dropped. “Mary?”
She swallowed. “I want you.”
“Which of us?”
Her gaze lifted to mine, offended and vulnerable at once. “Don’t make me choose like that.”
Lincoln’s hand slid over her stomach. “You don’t have to.”
“But now,” I said gently. “This moment.”
Her breath came faster.
She looked at Lincoln over her shoulder. He kissed her temple, then nodded toward me. “Start with him, love.”
The word start went through all three of us.
Mary nodded.
I guided my cock into her, inch by inch. Her mouth opened and no sound came out.
“Breathe,” Lincoln said.
Mary’s laugh shook. “I hate that advice.”
“Still correct.”
“Still alive.”
I smiled despite the strain in my body. “Are you all right?”
“If one of you asks me that again, I will write a formal complaint.”
“To whom?”
“The alpha department.”
Lincoln laughed into her hair.
Mary moved, and my vision narrowed. This was nothing like the heat.
That had been urgency and relief, bodies trying to survive a biological storm.
This was slower and far more dangerous. Mary above me, choosing each movement.
Lincoln behind her, one arm around her waist, one hand on my shoulder because he needed the contact too.
The three of us breathing in the same rhythm while rain tapped at the window.
Her body tightened around me.
I kept my pace restrained even when she lost hers.
“Hudson,” she whispered.
“I’ve got you.”
“I know.”
The words were the undoing because she believed them.
Lincoln’s fingers slid lower. “Can I touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Mary’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t hide. “Where you know I need it.”
He made a sound that was almost painful, then he wrapped his arm around her front and touched her clit.
Her body bowed. I pulled her down to me, and she cried out against my mouth. Lincoln held her from behind, his hand moving between her thighs while I thrust up into her slowly, deeply.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “Please don’t stop.”
I kissed her face, her cheek, her jaw, and the corner of her mouth. “We won’t.”
Lincoln kissed the side of her neck. “Come on Hudson’s cock, and then I want to drive his cum back inside you and knot you.”
“Oh my God.” Mary shattered between us. Her body clenching around me so hard I nearly followed at once. I held back by force, jaw tight, hands shaking on her hips.
No knot for me tonight. Out of heat, my body didn’t demand it, and some small, foolish part of me missed the anchor of it even as I finished, shuddering, with nothing holding us together but choice.
She sagged forward.
I rolled carefully, taking her with me so she lay on her side, still joined to me, Lincoln curved behind her. No pressure on her stomach, no weight where it shouldn’t be. Lincoln’s hand stayed low over her belly, warm and steady.
Mary blinked at me, dazed. “That was...”
“Adequate?” I asked.
Her laugh came out breathless. “Don’t steal my reviews.”
Lincoln kissed her shoulder. “Lift your leg.”
“Hudson is still inside me.”
“How would you like us together?” he asked.
She looked at me. “Two cocks inside me. I don’t think I’m big enough down there.”
Lincoln pulled her ear lobe into his mouth. “Just the tip tonight.”
Her scent bloomed and Mary’s eyes darkened again, but this time she didn’t seem ashamed of it. “Just the tip,” she repeated.