Chapter Fifteen
Alison hurt. She’d say she felt as though she had been fucked for hours by three alphas—which was exactly how she felt—but that seemed far too on the nose.
Her clit was sensitive, even after a shower, so the brush of her underwear against it made her let out a pathetic sound that reminded her of the ones she’d made the night before.
The night when I screwed all three of them instead of taking the drugs like a smart woman would have done.
Even thinking about it, she couldn’t quite figure out why she’d made the choice she had.
Liar.
She sighed, letting the swing move forward and back on the porch. She knew why.
This wouldn’t last beyond their case. At the end of that, she’d go back to her world and they’d go back to theirs. There was no other way of it working out.
So when the waves of need had hit her, when she’d been faced with the three of them in that garage, she’d wanted a taste of a future that wasn’t meant for her.
She’d wanted for just one night to know what it would feel like to be someone’s mate, to have someone look at her as though they wanted nothing more.
Not just strangers, either, but people who knew her.
For better or worse, these alphas did. Their plan, their time together, had let them glimpse deeper than anyone else had in her entire life.
“Which is yet another reason this can’t go on,” she said out loud to herself.
The alphas were all still asleep. While her hormones let her bounce back quicker, they’d exhausted themselves satisfying her.
She recalled Trent, after three rounds, groaning when she’d crawled over him, when she’d straddled his waist, needing him another time. She wasn’t sure if by that point he’d even enjoyed it, not like he would have regular sex, at least. Still, he’d given to her, without reservation or complaint.
Finally, when she’d all but passed out, they’d brought her back to the main house. They’d ended up in Daniel’s room, their bodies entwined with hers in some puzzle that allowed all of them to fit on the bed—barely.
They’d hardly stirred when she’d risen, telling her just how tired they were.
So she’d let them sleep.
It gave her time to herself anyway.
The odds of getting pregnant were low, which was the only reason she wasn’t panicked. The thought of having a child—
She couldn’t even fathom the idea. That was how foreign it was—she couldn’t even come up with a scenario where it was possible.
“Morning.” Trent’s voice brought her gaze up.
Of course, it was Trent. He was the caretaker. She’d have never figured it on first meeting them, when on that first night he’d looked like some huge brawler.
Yet there he stood, a plate of food in his hand as he set a water bottle on the table beside her.
“Morning.”
He lifted her feet, then took a spot there so her legs draped across his lap. The position was intimate, but could she really be upset about that after the night before?
He picked up the fork and got a bite of scrambled eggs on the tines, then offered it.
She wanted to balk—as she always did when he fed her—but instead she took the bite, suppressing the moan at the wonderful taste.
She’d never admit it, but a part of the feeding, the way he hovered, made her happy. She’d never had someone really care about her, not that she could recall.
“How do you feel, pet?”
She swallowed the bit, not surprised that it was good. The alphas all seemed to be adept cooks. “Fine.”
Trent’s eyebrow lifted in that subtle way that made her stomach drop.
“Sore,” she admitted. “But it’s not that bad.”
He nodded, as though her answer satisfied him this time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small red pills. “Ibuprofen. For after you eat, though.”
Alison stared at the little pills when he set them on the table in front of the swing, beside the water bottle.
“What are you frowning at like that?” His tone held amusement, as though he wasn’t annoyed by her confusion, just entertained.
“I don’t like being taken care of.”
“Really?” He nodded down at how she’d melted into the position, her legs over his lap, her eyes already on the next bite she wanted from his plate.
Her cheeks heated and she went to pull away.
He caught her foot to keep her exactly where she was. “Wasn’t complaining. Believe it or not, I rather like taking care of someone.”
“Why? Who wants some overgrown, useless burden around?” She cringed at her own tone, at the way self-loathing dripped from it.
His small huff said he’d caught it. “You sure do have a lot of hang-ups, don’t you? You don’t like taking care of others, at least not when they can see it, and you don’t want anyone taking care of you. Why is that?”
She took another bite from his fork, chewing it as she considered her answer.
Once she swallowed, she figured she had nothing to lose by explaining it.
Maybe it was still her being off balance from her heat, but the quiet way Trent sat there let her get her story out.
“I told you, my mom was a slave. Every female I knew was basically a slave. They spent their lives scurrying around, trying to please some alpha who never really cared.”
“So you’re afraid you’ll be just the same?”
Alison sighed softly. Examining her own thought process wasn’t exactly her favorite thing to do.
She believed in moving the fuck on, in putting bullshit that didn’t matter behind her.
“I learned that connecting with people was dangerous. They always screwed you over. It’s like…
” She lifted her hand, drawing her fingers into a fist. “This is one person, right? Powerful. It doesn’t need anyone or anything.
Then, when you open your hand, all those fingers?
They’re connections. They’re people you rely on or who rely on you.
Suddenly, you have spots that can be broken, that can be caught.
You’ve opened yourself up to risk, given yourself weaknesses people can exploit. ”
Trent stared at her hand as though formulating some response. She was ready for it, prepared to hear a long-winded lecture about how risk was a part of life, about how those connections made people human.
She’d heard it before.
Instead, he reached out and clasped her wrist, her hand automatically closing around his, locking together as though he were going to pull her to her feet.
She frowned as she stared, as she tried to figure out his point.
“If I’d done this and your hand was closed, we’d both have been weaker. I won’t tell you there aren’t risks, but everything has an upside, too.” He squeezed once, then pulled away to get her another bite of food.
Alison obediently ate it, not even thinking about it, about him, only about the way his warm hand had wrapped around her, about the strength in that grasp.
It’s a nice thought.
Nice thought or not, though, Alison was just too stubborn and set in her ways to change.
She’d lived her life alone, and as soon as they were done here, she’d go back to that.
* * * *
Two weeks had passed, and as Daniel stared at the little omega who took up most of his time, he couldn’t help but smile.
It seemed strange, like a life he’d never really pictured yet had slipped into with no trouble, as though it were the life he was always meant to have.
She’d settled in, somewhat.
Somewhat being the reason she was currently tied up on the bed, naked and cursing at him.
“I swear, the second you let me out of here I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Because from where I’m standing”—he dragged his fingers along her back, then over the curve of her ass—“your threats don’t mean much.”
She tried to twist to glare, but couldn’t manage to move enough. It left her only able to stare at the blank wall on the other side of his bed. He’d thought about blindfolding her, but he’d decided he wanted to be able to see the look in those pretty eyes of hers.
“Why are you here?”
“Because you’re a dick?”
He laughed softly. Trent would dislike her mouthing off, since he was a fan of rules even though he was soft-hearted when it came to punishment. Daniel, though?
“You’re not supposed to laugh,” she snapped, as if his chuckle were more egregious an offense than tying her up or whatever else he had planned. “I thought you were mad.”
“Mad? No, sweet, I’m not a mad sort of man. The more you mouth off to me, the more disrespectful you are, the more fun I’ll have adding on punishments.”
She inhaled sharply. “You can’t just add punishments! That’s not fair.”
“Really? If you get in trouble with the police, and keep breaking the law, they’ll keep adding charges.”
“You’re not the police.”
He huffed a soft laugh before sliding his fingers up her drenched cunt. “I’m close enough. Besides, you like this more than you’re letting on.”
“Don’t try to put your perversions on me.”
“How about in you?” He pressed two of his fingers into her as he asked, wanting to surprise her, to hear that little catch in her breath when he did something she hadn’t expected.
Maybe it was because of how skilled he’d come to find her, because she wasn’t just anyone, but rather a woman able to hold her own against him.
All of that made it sweeter when she gave in, when he overcame her and watched her melt.
She was tight around his fingers, and he was tempted to undo his pants and slip into her wet pussy.
Except he had a better plan already.
“So, what was it again that you did?” He asked the question while he thrust those two fingers into her, rough enough to help keep her off balance.
“I was stupid enough to agree to this with a sadist like you.” The end of her little tirade drifted into a lust-drunken moan.
“If you think calling me a sadist is going to hurt my feelings, you’re barking up the wrong tree, sweet.” He twisted his wrist to stroke against the sensitive front wall of her cunt, making sure to tease her while leaving her clit entirely untouched.
This was punishment, after all.
“Come on, I know you can figure out why you’re here.”