Page 62 of The Gift
I take a step back away, his words inciting reactions that involve me punching his face.
“I know I fucked up. Let you guys… Sorry, man.”
“You did fuck up. You owe her an apology at the very least. You’ll be under formal review too, Colton, you know better and you are better than what happened today. But do me a favour and steer clear of Henley for a few days.”
He nods his head. His whole body moves as he contemplates my comments, or he’s fallen asleep with his eyes open. He shudders another worn-out sigh before shuffling down the bed and turning his back on us.
“I’ll be at work by midday. Sorry for screwing up today, Koda. It won’t happen again.”
I clap his shoulder, dropping another blanket on him, leaving a bottle of water in reach.
Reno though hasn’t moved off the edge of Colton’s bed, and calls him out of his drunken stupor, waiting until Colton looks over his shoulder before he snarls coldly, “Don’t ever touch her again. Ever.”
And then he storms towards me, his pissy eyes glaring at me maybe thinking I’ll tell him he shouldn’t have done that. Seriously? He beat me to it.
Bailey
Stomach cramps are not the best way to wake up. The first few pass without too much discomfort. I bury deeper into Koda’s bed, letting his scent soothe me, which helps.
The next time they come, I can’t ignore them. If Reno was home, I’d be winding my way to his room, seeing if he needs to up the dose to stop the breakthrough. Instead, I’m stumbling towards Henley and Ashton.
I could have found my way to them with my eyes closed. As my needs awakened, apparently so did my ability to trace the other two alphas of Pack Bailey. Although I guess, this omega thing is a two-way street, because one minute I’m weaving in the dark, the next I’m swept up in Ashton’s arms against his naked chest, staring at his pierced nipple. Besotted by it, really.
“Want me to wipe your mouth, you got a little dribble there, baby girl,” he teases as he carries me back to his room, his voice sounding like I woke him up.
“Do I look like a fucking baby girl to you?” I snap back in a harsh whisper. I blame the hormones for making me bonkers. Baby girl is kind of hot.
And he shrugs, not answering before tucking me in tighter against him, and letting us both fall, rolling at the last second so I’m suddenly in the middle of the two alphas of the A-team.
“Touching?” Ashton asks, his voice all deep and rumbly from sleep. Freaking bonus points for the A-team triple checking.
“Yes, please,” I say, barely stopping myself from whining.
“Hmmm, did you bring me something tasty for breakfast?” Henley mumbles, his nose running up and down the column of my neck, while his hands glide up my thighs, like I don’t have a touching issue at all. And the way he touches me, so sure I’ll like his hands on my body, smooths my anxiety, boosting my confidence too.
“She doesn’t like baby girl,” Ashton says teasingly. But it’s not nah-nah teasing; it’s like tickle your core teasing.
“She was being a whiny bitch, actually. You guys had dessert in bed and didn’t tell me? It smells crazy in here.” I sigh, sounding not like me, but like me, if that makes sense.
“That’s us, baby girl. You’re our syrup though,” Ashton says.
“What do you care about?” Henley pauses his nose pressed against the top of my throat.
“Being here. Feeling good. Doing what we said we’d do.”
“You might have to stop ignoring how well matched we are soon. You’re making my pack a bunch of beggars.” Henley’s hand massages over my thigh, each stroke spreading me wider. His words whispered, deep in melody, glide down as sure as his touch does, as he rolls over to his side for better access.
“Beggars?” I pant softly as I get swamped in the warmth of his body, and Ashton’s too. And then I stop and take the time to drag in another lungful of their scents. Henley reminds me of crisp green apples and cinnamon, Ashton more earthy, but damn good. They make my mouth water.
“Yeah, begging for the chance to taste a drop of your slick,” Henley chuckles, low and dirty.
Ashton rolls too but brings a pile of their clothing back with him, manoeuvring me up to sitting to turbo charge their mixed scents. His fingers play with the edge of Koda’s shirt I’m wearing, questions in his eyes. My hands rise above my head in answer, the both of them laughing in that deeply intimate way that men do. Ash lays Koda’s shirt behind my head.
Every part of me shivers in delight as I get swamped by the rising scents of Pack Bailey. I don’t even bother fighting against what they said would happen, me responding to them. It’s natural, fucking scary as shit, but it’s happening whether I try to stop it or not.
“It’s okay, baby girl, no biting but some nibbling definitely. No knots. Instead, lots of orgasms for our omega.”
“Your omega?” I squeak, so fucking sexy like, while my pussy throbs, clearly on board with the idea my addled brain is stuck on.
