Page 17 of Love in Excess

Hunter’s laugh rumbles behind me and I turn to see him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Baby girl, did you call Lincoln knowing what night it was?”

She shakes her head, her scent betraying the innocent look on her face. “Alpha, I would never do that. I called him because you were being stupid and it just so happens that it’s Thursday.” Celeste adds a nod to the end of her sentence. “Since you’re here, Lincoln, you can help Hunter cook, and I’m gonna find something to watch.”

Celeste doesn’t let me respond, scrambling over to the TV with the remote. Jasmine follows her and then plops back down, immediately asking for belly rubs. I don’t even know what to say or do in this situation. A home cooked meal sounds fantastic but am I interrupting or slotting myself in somewhere I wasn’t invited?

Hunter steps around me, waiting until I meet his gaze. “Hey, this is about you too. Too fast?”

Is it? It should be. I should be leaving and letting this day rest before we start again tomorrow. I shouldn’t be so eager for more. I should…

Hunter clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. It’s a little unnerving to have to look down at an Alpha rather than up but he doesn’t seem phased in the slightest. “Let’s try something else. A color system. Red for too fast. Yellow for slow down. Green for keep going. What’s your color, Doc?”

That makes things infinitely easier. I won’t have to explain what’s going on in my head. I can do colors. I think. “Yellow, I guess?” It’s more question than answer, but it’s honest. I’m not running, but I’m not ready to dive in headfirst either.

Hunter nods, no judgment in his gaze. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

I glance at Jasmine, sprawled out near Celeste, her tail still wagging. “Is Jasmine invited?” I ask, half-joking, half-serious. Jasmine is rarely ever invited on the first few dates and hardly ever to my partners’ houses. It’s why I never left my loft all these years.

“Is that what this is about? Jasmine’s more than welcome in my house, okay? And I think your puppy found a new best friend.” He glances at Celeste, who’s now flipping through channels, muttering about movie options. “Do you have any allergies or dislikes?”

I shake my head, my nerves settling a bit. “No, not really.”

“Good, because I’m about to make sure you get a good home cooked meal. Wash your hands, and I’m putting you to work.”

Hunter disappears into the backroom as I head for the kitchen, washing my hands and waiting for him to return. When he comes back, he’s fully dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, the disappointment in my expression flashing for only a second. He catches it though, a smirk playing on his lips as he starts pulling things out of the fridge.

“Do you always cook?” I ask, gesturing to Celeste. I’ve only known super traditional packs. The Omegas took care of the home. Alphas provided. Betas helped support.

Hunter laughs as he fills the kitchen island with ingredients. “Every chance I get. Celeste is hopeless in the kitchen so it’s on me to keep us fed.” Celeste glances over and he throws her a kiss that she playfully chomps on. “However, she’s perfect at everything else.” The love in his tone is unmistakable and it stirs something in me—envy, maybe, or longing. I want that, to be part of this, to have someone talk about me the way he talks about her.

HUNTER

Everyone showered, redressed–although my clothes don’tquitefit Lincoln’s larger frame–bellies stuffed, and on the verge of sleep, this almost feels like perfect domestic bliss. Empty plates are strewn across the coffee table, Celeste nestled into Lincoln’s side with a bowl of chocolate ice cream balanced in her lap, her spoon scraping the edges. The Beta was a bit stiff at first, continually looking over at me as if for permission before he began to relax.

I’m not sure what he was really searching for but the discomfort he’s feeling makes me wonder how his previous partners treated him. Most packs are open these days, whether indefinitely or until they find who they believe is that missing piece.

Deciding not to dwell on that, I try to focus on the movie, finding myself creeping closer on Lincoln’s other side until my arm is settling along the back of the couch, my fingers playing with the hair along the nape of his neck.

His hazelnut coffee scent has softened considerably, Lincoln mildly leaning into my touch rather than away from it. This feels right—more right than anything else has in years.

Lincoln’s the first Beta Celeste has ever let truly inside, the only one she’s invited to movie night, a ritual she guards like a treasure. I watch her now, her head tipping closer to his shoulder, her ice cream forgotten as she murmurs something about the rom-com flickering on the TV. The smile on Lincoln’s lips warms my heart, one of his hands snaking around her waist to land on her hip. He unconsciously tugs her a little closer, Celeste melting against him, like his body knows what he wants before his mind catches up.

They look so fucking perfect together.

My purr kicks up, a rumble of pleasure running through me which catches Lincoln off guard. He twists around to look at me, shock bouncing around in his expression.

“Color?” I tilt my head, waiting for his response.

His voice is barely a whisper. “Green?”

“Next question. Do you want this or do you feel like we’re pushing you into something?” As much as I want this night to delve into something else, I have enough control to keep this movie night hands off and send Lincoln home with a kiss.

His nose scrunches up a little, his scent spiking and then evening out. When he speaks this time, it’s a much huskier tone, his eyes darting to the bulge between my thighs. “I want it. I just…”

I was wondering if he’d notice how hard I am at some point. I’ve been trying to hide it beneath a pillow but Celeste stole thatat some point. But he wants this. “We’ll go slow, Lincoln. Can I kiss you?”

He hesitates and then nods as I lean forward to press my lips against his. Lincoln melts almost immediately, submitting to me, one of his hands resting against my chest. I deepen the kiss, my tongue grazing his, drawing a soft sound from his throat that draws out my purr. Celeste’s scent spikes, the little gasp filtering in the air telling me that she’s watching us and she’s waiting for hers.

I pull back just enough to see his eyes, glazed over with desire, his chest rising and falling faster now. My hand slides down his side, fingers tracing the line of his hip, dipping to the waistband of his jeans. His breath catches, a sharp hitch that sends another wave of heat through me, and I pause, my fingers resting there, teasing the edge of the fabric. “Color?”

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