Page 72 of Taken By the Pack

She squeals as Rowan scoops her up, her laughter echoing through the house as he carries her back to bed.

20

ASH

Iknow the exact time both of them leave her house.

Not because I’m keeping track. Not because I give a shit.

It’s because, from my bedroom window, I have a direct view into hers.

And fuck, I didn’t even know I had voyeuristic tendencies until tonight, but I was right there, my hand wrapped around my cock for close to an hour, watching her get ruined.

I watched her take them, let them use her. I heard the muffled sounds through the walls because these houses clearly don’t have enough insulation in the walls.

I should feel guilty. I should stop thinking about it.

But I don’t.

I turn on the TV, scrolling mindlessly. Anything to distract myself.

The house is still mostly empty. I got the couch delivered yesterday, a sleek black leather thing that looks better than it sits. The coffee table came this morning—solid oak, heavier than I expected.

The bed frame is still missing, so my mattress is on the goddamn floor. No dining table yet, no barstools for the counter.

Just me, this oversized couch, and a TV mounted on a wall I haven’t even decorated.

I should be unpacking. Or sleeping.

Instead, I’m thinking about her. And that’s why, when I hear a knock on my door half an hour later, I hesitate.

I know it’s her before I even open it. I can smell her… and them… still clinging to her skin.

I run a hand over my jaw, exhaling hard, before pulling the door open.

She’s standing there, barefoot, wearing tiny sleep shorts and an oversized hoodie, her hair still a little messy. She’s holding a bag of takeout.

She smiles. “Hey.”

I lean against the doorframe. “Hey.”

“We ordered way too much food,” she says, lifting the bag. “Figured you might be hungry.”

I eye the bag, then her. “You sure you wanna be standing at my door dressed like that?”

Her lips twitch. “Are you inviting me in?”

I let out a slow breath and step back. “Yeah.”

She walks in, heading straight for the couch like she’s been here before, setting the food down. She hesitates for a second, then looks at me. “About earlier?—”

I sit beside her, stretching my legs out. “You sorry?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I know it’s complicated. You’re only here for six months, and—” She stops, biting her lip. “But you feel it too, right?”

I hold her gaze. I nod once.

She exhales, shifting closer. “Okay.”

---