Page 14 of Take All of Me

“I woke up and everything just felt wrong. Like my skin didn’t fit. And then I was fucking around with the pillows and blankets I collected—stacking them, shoving them around—but that wasn’t enough.” I grimace, the memory sharp disconcerting because I felt so fucking out of control. “I only knew one person who could help me rearrange them right, so I went for Maya. But by the time I got there, I needed more than that. I was falling apart—hot, irritable, a fucking mess.”

I shift in his lap, Holt’s knot still nestled inside me, and wince at the flood of shame. “I fucking came in my pants while holding her,” I admit. “I probably terrified the fuck out of her.”

“Yes, but I’m sure she’ll understand. You can explain when the spike’s over.”

I frown, sitting up a little, and the fullness of his knot shifts, pulling a groan from my throat. “It’s over,” I insist, testing the words. “I feel fine.”

Holt snorts, his breath warm against my neck. “Your scent’s still sweet as fuck,” he counters, voice rough with that Alpha edge. “Until that softens, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

If he thinks I’m going to be sitting here, waiting for him to tell me when my scent returns to an acceptable level, he’s got another thing coming. Mostly because I need to fix this. It’s an instinctual desire, something that if left any longer is going tomake me sick. His knot starts to soften, slowly dislodging with a slick, wet pull that leaves me empty.

“I feel fine,” I repeat, rolling off him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Holt reaches for me, hands gentle but insistent. “And I sent Roman to do that,” he says, tugging me closer. “Come here, sweetheart.”

“No, I need—” I start, but then it hits me—a full, bleeding heat surging through my veins. My eyes roll back, head tipping as a fresh wave of slick spills down my thighs. “Holy fuck. That’s… shit.” My body trembles, every nerve screaming for a knot all over again. I stupidly try to push through it, marching to the door but I barely make it before my head is leaning against the cool wood.

“I told you the spike wasn’t over,” he growls, stepping closer.

A whimper tears free as emotions fight my rationale, spilling out in a whine that is more than just embarrassing. “I want to be in my room with Maya and Roman and…”

“Kota, we won’t make it halfway across the quad before I strip you bare and knot you on the concrete. My control’s just as shot as yours.”

Another bout of slick slips down my thighs, my hands fisting against the door. Trying to fight this need isn’t working and in fact, it’s starting to hurt. “I don’t know why I need it so bad,” I confess, half-pleading.

Holt closes the distance between us, his heat seeping into my back, once again calming me. “We’ll talk to someone in the morning, but right now, you need a knot.” I lean forward, ready to bend in half again but Holt slowly turns me around, cupping my cheeks with his hands. “Not this time. This time, I want to kiss you, show you my feelings haven’t changed.”

My instincts roar at that, a desperate yes thrumming through me as he presses against me, all hard muscle and heat, lifting myleg with one hand hooked under my knee. Then he hooks his free hand under my other knee, lifting me completely off the ground. Holt’s the only one who’s ever lifted me like this, and with everything shifting, it feels better than ever, like I’m weightless, his.

He slides back in, filling me with a stretch that makes me moan. My arms loop around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders as he kisses me—soft at first, lips brushing mine, then harder, tongue sweeping in to taste me. His scent floods my senses, mahogany blending with my lavender, and I melt into it, slick easing the way as he rocks into me.

“We’re going to have to fucking fumigate this room when we’re done,” I pant against his mouth, half-laughing, half-dazed.

Holt chuckles, a rumble in his chest, and thrusts deeper, making me gasp. “I don’t really fucking care,” he growls, “not with the way you’re squeezing me.”

Maya

I wake up in Dakota’s room, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the blinds, and for once, there are no nightmares clawing at me. I’m fully rested, my body heavy with a peace I haven’t felt in ages. Blankets cocoon me, more than I remember from last night, a chaotic pile of colors and textures—blues, greens, a random plaid that smells faintly of lavender. I stuff my face into one, inhaling deep, and catch that floral sweetness that used to suffocate me four years ago.

Sitting up, I rub my eyes, and it’s like an explosion of color happened overnight—or maybe I was too exhausted to notice when I passed out. Pillows are everywhere, stacked against the headboard, spilling onto the floor, a haphazard nest that screams frustration. It makes sense now—Dakota trying to buildsomething instinctual, maybe giving up when it didn’t feel right, then running to me.

I need to get back to my regular life, all the normal stuff, the one that doesn’t tangle with men, mates, or packs. Especially if I’m seriously considering that assistant coach position the dean dangled in front of me. Hockey’s my anchor, always has been, and I can’t let this derail me—regardless of how much I want this little pocket of my happiness in my life. I spot my hoodie draped over a chair, discarded last night when Roman let me in. He’d been so casual about it, just a quick “Goodnight” before disappearing, like me crashing in Dakota’s nest was normal. It feels too domestic, too easy, and that scares me more than I want to admit.

Tugging the hoodie on, I then slip on my shoes and head for the door. Before my hand hits the knob, it slams open, my heart jumping in my chest. Dakota’s standing there, his face brighter than I’ve ever seen, brown eyes sparkling, that lingering floral sweetness rolling off him. He’s clutching a tray of coffee cups and a paper bag that smells like fresh bagels—definitely not the sad cafeteria kind. Holt looms behind him, looking dead on his feet, dark circles under his eyes, and Roman’s there too, leaning against the frame, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Dakota’s smile quickly molds into a frown as he catches onto the fact that I’m fully dressed. “Where the fuck are you going?” he demands.

I glance at Holt, hoping for some kind of explanation, as Dakota barrels past me to spread the haul on the little table between the beds—coffee cups lined up, bagels tumbling out. Holt sighs, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “We stopped by the clinic this morning after he wouldn’t fucking sit still. They said it’s not impossible but definitely uncommon for an Omega to present this late. It’s going to be like an adult going through puberty, but every Omega’s different. If this was Roman, he’dprobably be real quiet about most of the changes, though you’d see it in how he hangs around us.” He nods at Roman, who snorts. “Dakota’s never been a quiet Beta, so…”

“So, you’re to expect all the cuddly stuff?”

Holt nods, his gaze softening as he looks at Dakota, who’s tearing into the bagel bag with a grin. “He was asking for you most of the night,” Holt admits. “Nearly fought me to get out of that room. I’m trying not to scare you, but Dakota’s not the easiest guy to stop when he’s got something on his mind. Apparently, the strength isn’t going anywhere.”

I laugh, a short burst that surprises me, but it fades into a sigh as Dakota stumbles over, still grinning, and scoops me up like I weigh nothing. He deposits me back on the bed, right in the middle of his pillow pile. He’s not saying anything now, just rumbling softly.

“The pheromones are hitting him hard,” Holt explains, leaning against the wall. “There’s cases where they go nonverbal—apparently that’s now. He insisted on getting you breakfast, made sure to pick out the cinnamon raisin bagel with the sugar on top. Said it was your favorite.”

He remembered.Even after four years, Dakota remembered and that means more to me than he’ll know. Dakota plops onto the bed and drags me into his lap, a low needy sound following when I squirm in his hold. Roman pushes off the archway, moving to the other side of the bed. “I’d just give in,” he advises, crossing his arms. “Took Holt about fifteen minutes to get me untangled from him when they woke me up.”

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