Chapter 17 #2
"They are." After I hung the photos up, Quinn was so jealous she asked me to make a couple of variations for her so she could do something similar in her offices here and at home. "One of our in-house photographers did these for me. Isn't she talented?"
Spencer studies the three prints with such a serious expression that I can imagine how he looks watching football film with the team. "Why these specific toys?"
I open my mouth and answer without thinking, "They're my personal favorites."
My office falls so silent you could hear a pin drop.
"I mean from a design perspective," I add hastily.
Freddie is openly delighted, looking at me with a smirk. "Sure."
Zak's mouth twitches. Spencer's eyes darken just enough to make my heart skip a beat.
The truth is that I do love the designs of these toys.
And they just so happen to be some of my favorites in the bedroom, too.
One of the perks of the job is that Quinn is always handing out free product around the office.
There’s no better beta-tester than someone whose paycheck depends on the product being successful.
Though I’d argue the employees benefit way more than the company in that regard.
Another thing the HR director has tried unsuccessfully to put a stop to.
"Move on," Spencer tells Freddie with a cheerful pat on the back. He wanders back over to the bookshelves and gestures to the numerous awards dotting my shelves. "You have more trophies than our old man over here." He points his thumb at Zak.
"I'm only a few years older than the rest of you," Zak grumbles. There's more to it than that, though. Zak isn't much older in years, but he carries a wisdom and confidence that make him decidedly a complete daddy.
Spencer crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, studying me closely. We've played all the getting-to-know-you games we could come up with since Friday night, but this is a whole new layer of introducing myself. This space is like my second home.
"I'm good at what I do," I tell Spencer with a confidence that borders on cocky. I've been winning awards for my campaigns since I started working for Quinn straight out of college.
"That's obvious," Zak says.
The praise from my mates feels like enough to make me want to combust into a puddle of goo. I turn away and fuss with the cup of pens on my desk for a minute before my face gives too much away. I'm ready to strip right here and now for them, I swear.
I clear my throat and ask, "Who wants to see the product display room?"
I welcome my scent-matches into one of my favorite rooms in the world.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves line the walls, each section organized by collection and release year.
Every version of every toy Quinn has ever made sits under soft spotlights, arranged with museum-worthy reverence.
Silicone, glass, and metal in all shapes and colors–including the limited edition finishes.
When my boss first got her start–a couple of years before I joined her mission–she was a one-woman business lucky enough to launch her line with the help of an anonymous angel investor who funded her when no one else would take her concepts seriously.
This space is a testament to Quinn's hard work. The whole team's, actually. We helped Quinn turn her ideas for an omega-centered sex toy company into a global sensation.
I'm usually overwhelmed by pride in here.
Today, I mostly just feel horny.
Not because I'm looking at a whole slew of sex toys, many models of which I have personal experience with. I've worked around them for long enough that I'm practiced in staying professional in their presence.
The problem is the three men accompanying me.
I feel like I'm drowning as I watch them appreciate the room I know so well.
Zak examines a row of our BDSM collection with rapt fascination.
Freddie crouches to compare three different knot toys like he's evaluating fine art.
Spencer is the most reserved initially, his eyes scanning some of the display placards sitting with each toy until his gaze slowly moves on from the toys... to me.
My problem is amplified tenfold by the heat in his gaze.
Eucalyptus.
Sandalwood.
Sea salt.
I don't think I'm imagining the way our scents are suddenly much stronger. Even my own scent seems to grow more potent. I'm so turned on that my body doesn't know what to do with itself.
My body seems to be burning up from the inside, and I feel a light sheen of sweat over my skin.
I'm desperate for the pack to touch me.
As if drawn closer by an invisible string, Spencer prowls toward me. I swallow hard as I take in the way his eyes darken slightly, eyelids drooping to give me bedroom eyes. He grabs me by the hips the moment I'm within his reach.
Instead of pulling me closer, he pushes me back against the wall.
One hand stays on my hip, the other moves to the wall beside my head. Spencer pins me against the wall with his body.
My breath catches.
He lowers his head and groans, "Mia," quietly beside my ear.
That's it.
Just my name.
I tilt my head back, and his mouth is already there.
Our first kiss is devastating.
His lips claim mine with the kind of controlled hunger that I'm rapidly learning belongs uniquely to Spencer. He's never careless or rushed in anything. He takes his time and makes every move count. I melt into him with a sound I didn't expect to be so loud.
I'm vaguely aware that the rest of the room falls silent as Spencer releases my hip to cup my jaw, angling my face to kiss me more thoroughly until all I taste is him and all I can think is more.
The kiss only works me up more.
Because of course it does.
Because I'm pressed against a wall in a room full of sex toys while my scent-matched alpha kisses me like there's a competition and he has something to prove.
A competition which, frankly, he wins hands down. Apparently, I've spent years kissing nothing but frogs because I've never even remotely been kissed like this before.
My alpha is an absolute fucking prince.
When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless and flushed. I blink up at him, dazed. "We could... Maybe we should use the testing room after all."
There's zero shame in me over how needy I sound.
Spencer's thumb strokes my jaw once, and then he shakes his head. "No."
The word would sting if it weren't for the warmth in his gaze.
"The temptation would be too great," he explains. "And I want the first time you have our knots to be in our new home. A place you're fully comfortable and certain about how your future with us looks. You'll take our knots when we're ready to solidify your place in our pack the right way."
He's not saying no because he doesn't want me.
He's saying no because he does.
As much as I want to respect the chivalry, the intensity of my need is so intense it almost hurts. My body is boneless against the wall, but my insides are coiled tight in anticipation of something Spencer doesn't plan to give me yet.
"Do we really have to let her suffer?” Zak asks in a gravelly voice, startling me slightly. “Alpha, I’d really like to offer our omega some relief.”
The sound of his voice at close range makes me realize that Zak and Freddie have both moved much closer while Spencer distracted me with his kiss. Zak peers around Spencer's shoulder to watch me with wanting eyes. His eyebrows knit down slightly out of concern for leaving me in this condition.
A helpless whimper escapes my throat.
Spencer holds his breath for a moment, his forehead wrinkling with indecision until he steps back with a seemingly Herculean effort.
Zak shifts quickly into his place, wrapping me up in warmth and the pleasant smell of sandalwood.
"I'll help you feel better, baby girl," he whispers to me as he leaves just enough space between us to reach down and slip his hand under my dress.
I suck in a sharp breath as his fingertips graze my inner thigh.
His touch continues an upward journey until he reaches the top of my leg and brushes against the lace of my panties.
"Are there cameras in here?" he asks, dropping his mouth to kiss the side of my neck while waiting for my answer.
I shake my head, barely able to get the word out. "No."