EPILOGUE - BIRDIE #2
“Some abalone and another one of those tube worm casings. There was also a black turban snail, but I left it with the omega.” He raises his brows at me. “Carla and Maggie are here. With Jonathan, their omega. They’re buying a house down the beach. Did you know?”
“I knew that they were looking, but I didn’t know they’d be here today.” He touches the pink edge of my cheek, his eyes narrowing. “What happened? Did Carla upset you?”
I squirm, feeling foolish, and he touches my leg. “You’re damp. How far did you get?”
He’s referring to my game of chicken with the ocean. “About the same as yesterday.”
“Good girl.” I melt. It shouldn’t be a thing, but when our pack alpha gets that admiring vibration in his voice, my entire body takes on the consistency of molten chocolate.
“Still not swimming,” I remind him, since I can dog paddle in the shallow end of the pool just fine, but I still don’t feel confident enough to take on the ocean.
“But how did the water feel?”
He always asks me this, and I always tell him that it was fine. If he probes for more, I might add another lukewarm adjective, like good or fun. But I turn to him and lick my lips. “Refreshing. Powerful. Exciting.”
He gives another purr of approval and kisses my nose. “Sounds like someone I know.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes so I can feel the air moving through his chest. I don’t know when Axel’s lap became so addictive, but after my nest and the daybed, it’s my favorite place to just sit and breathe.
“Carla wants to study me. She says I’m a success story. Like rags to riches, I guess, except it’s lab experiment to beach bum.”
His fingers curl under my chin, turning my face so he can stare down at me with his dark, thoughtful eyes.
They’re actually a little like Carla’s, except hers don’t make me clench my thighs or curl my toes.
I can smell my arousal in the air as his dominance slides over me, prickling my skin.
But his gaze is gentle, not heated. “Is that really how you see yourself?”
I lift my shoulder in a half-shrug. “I guess I’m still finding my place.”
His fingers drift from my chin down to my neck, his hand closing gently over my throat. “Can I help with that?”
I shiver, my eyes sliding half-shut. It’s like there’s a certain register he uses that vibrates through my bones, turning me to mush. He strokes the edge of Hog’s mating bite with his thumb, making my stomach tighten. “It’s here, isn’t it?”
“Here?” I ask, my voice sounding like it’s coming from far away.
“Hmm. Your safe place.” He squeezes my throat gently. “Do you want your cushion?”
I nod and his hands ease me down to the large cushion he keeps under his desk.
He pulls it out so it’s by the side of his chair, and I let my body pour onto it like warm butter.
It’s one of the pillows they bought for my heat, and there’s still a faint hint of our combined scents clinging to the blue velvet.
“I like it here,” I murmur, resting my head in his lap. His shorts are still damp, but I love the way his rainforest scent mingles with the salt soaked into the fabric. “Did you call Louisa back?”
I met his grandfather’s omega a couple of months ago when she was in San Francisco for an art show. As bubbly as Axel is stoic, she took me on a beach walk up the coast where we collected handfuls of sea glass after a wild Pacific storm.
“Yeah. She’s thinking about making another visit later this month.
I think she wants to check your progress with your sculptures.
” I hum, because even though my beach crafts are a long way from Lousia’s art, I love sharing them with her.
I don’t think she has a critical thought in her head, finding joy in the simplest of things.
If I was looking for a role model, it would be her, especially given how smitten Hog and Colt are with her.
Axel’s hand touches my hair, and then I feel my braid come loose.
His fingers comb gently through the strands, pulling them apart and smoothing them over his thigh.
“I think it’s time we stock up on more taffy,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss the nape of my neck.
“Every time I get close to you, I get the worst sugar cravings.”
I smirk, vaguely remembering that I’m meant to be going for ice cream. But I’m drifting in that soft, quiet place where I always go when I’m on my cushion, under Axel’s hands.
There’s a shuffling sound at the door, and then I hear Colt’s voice – or maybe it’s the omega’s – and he sounds faintly amused as the door drifts shut. “So much for ice cream. Looks like she’s already found her sweet treat.”
Two weeks later
“This isn’t just itty-bitty,” I tell Colt, turning to look at myself in the fitting room mirror, “it’s practically invisible.”
His hands slide around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder as he blatantly ogles the bright pink bikini.
Calling it a swimsuit would be generous, since it has less substance than dental floss.
Although, the seashell detailing on the hips is kind of cute, and the color is almost an exact match for my hair.
“I might have underestimated your growth spurt,” Colt purrs, sounding like a kid with the keys to a candy store.
“Want me to help adjust it a little?” He doesn’t wait for my response, his hands sliding under the silky cups and gently squeezing my nipples.
“This is a better fit,” he purrs, rubbing the tight nubs with his thumbs.
“All you need to wear are my hands and a whole lot of sunblock.”
It’s tempting, but I really need a new swimsuit.
With regular meals and a little exercise, I’m starting to fill out in all the right places.
Despite the threat I made to Booth, I’ll never grace the cover of Omega Allure, but I have a few decent curves on me now.
And Colt is obsessed with exploring every single extra inch.
“If you drool on it, we have to buy it,” I warn him, pulling away to discard the scraps of fabric.
Of course, that just leaves me naked to his wandering hands, and I’ve barely kicked off the bikini bottoms before he’s pulled me onto his lap.
It’s not exactly a roomy fitting room, but he makes it work, his hands wandering over my splayed thighs.
“I’ve died and gone to retail heaven,” he sighs, squeezing my slightly more ample hips.
I snort and kiss the blissed-out look off his lips. “You’re ridiculous. “
“Ridiculously in love.”
“That seems to be a thing now, huh?” I tease and melt into him for another kiss.
I can feel him growing hard between us, and I have to admit, there’s something wildly erotic about sitting naked in his lap while he’s fully dressed.
Especially with only a thin privacy curtain between us and the perky store assistant.
She got that glittery look in her eyes when Colt sauntered in, until she saw that he wasn’t looking for a private fitting.
Or not one that included her, anyway.
“Little bird,” he croons, circling my taut nipple with a finger, “you get slick on these boardshorts, and I’m gonna have to buy them.”
“You already own them.”
He smirks at my eyeroll. “Well, let me take them off anyway…”
“Colt…” I give him a warning look, but his finger sinks into my pussy, worming its way inside until he’s buried to the knuckle. I rock forward, unable to resist the urge to clench down on his thick digit. “Alpha!”
He grins at my breathy gasp. “You like that, little bird? You can’t expect to strut around naked and not slip and fall on my finger every once in a while.”
I shudder as he strokes my clit with his thumb, hooking his finger into my walls. “Look over your shoulder, little bird,” he whispers in my ear, his scent like molten sunshine. “You ever seen a prettier view?”
I grip his shoulders and glance back at our reflection in the fitting room mirror.
My flushed face looks almost startled, but my body is definitely enjoying the experience.
The sight of Colt’s tanned hand buried between my thighs makes me shudder, and I lift up on my knees, widening my thighs and tilting my pelvis.
I can’t help it; Colt brings out the exhibitionist in me. “How about now?”
He groans, loud enough to alert half the store. “Such a lush, pink pussy. You dripping for me, Omega?”
I pant, slick trickling from my thighs. There’s nothing I want more right now than to ride his fingers to a blissful release, but instead, I gasp in a rush, “I want you to claim me!”
His mouth drops open, and I feel a thrill of victory that I’ve caught him off-guard for once. “What? For real?”
“One hundred percent real. You and Axel both. You’ve given me space to think, but I know what I want…”
Colt rocks back against the fitting room wall. “Fuck, you took your goddamn time, Baggage!”
I snort a laugh and slap his chest. “I thought you once said that good things come to those who wait.”
“Fuck waiting. I’m built for instant gratification, remember?”
He waggles his brows at me, because despite his best efforts – and a whole lot of energetic practicing - Colt’s cock is still on a hair trigger. All I have to do is swish my hair in his direction and he’s ready to soak his shorts.
But when he reaches for his waistband, I slap his hand away. “You can wait until we make it back to the house, Colt.”
He screws his lips into a pout, but the next moment he almost dumps me off his lap as he pounces on my clothes. My shorts slap me in the face, and he’s suddenly all thumbs as he tries to yank my t-shirt over my head.
“What about the bikini…?” I gasp as he hurls the fitting room curtain open and tows me out of the store.
“Fuck the bikini,” he replies, shooting me a panty-melting smile over his shoulder. “Where you’re going, clothing is not an option.”