Page 34 of Love in Excess

“Mmm, green. I’ve got you, okay? Show me how you like it, sweetie.” His hands squeeze my tits, his thumbs flicking over my nipples, a cry tearing from my throat. It’s all the permission I need as I continue rocking myself over his cock. I come too quickly but it does nothing to sate the heat.

I reach down to angle his cock toward my pussy before slowly taking him in, every last rung hitting just the right spot inside of me. Ho-lyfuck.A garbled moan comes from Lincoln as his head drops to my shoulder, lips grazing over my bond mark with Hunter.

Pleasure shoots through me as I buck forward, Lincoln still kneading my tits as I take what’s mine. I brace my hands on his thighs, picking up a pace that has me bouncing on his cock, that Omega haze taking over.

“You feel amazing, Lincoln. Makes me so full and the metal… I’m going to make Hunter get some. Oh my god.Yes.” I keeptelling him just want I want, Lincoln kissing up and down my shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin as he loses himself to my pheromones.

“You’re so soft and gorgeous like this, sweetie,” he purrs against my neck. His cock thickens inside of me as I lean back against his chest and hook an arm around his neck. I drag him into a kiss that’s both filthy and passionate, one of his hands moving to my hip to help guide his cock inside of me.

His purr rumbles through his chest as I clamp down around him, moaning into the kiss as he floods me with his come. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I sag against his chest before finally finding my voice. “That was perfect. We’re going to have to do that again. In like two minutes.”

Lincoln snorts behind me. “Maybefiveminutes.”

My Omega hates that idea as I wriggle off his cock and shift around so that I’m facing him before sliding back down on his length. “How aboutnominutes?”

“Sweetie, you’re not going to get much out of this if you start no—Jesus Christ.”

I’m already rocking my hips again, grinning as he hardens inside of me, his fingers digging into my waist. I can tell that he hasn’t been with many Omegas and definitely not around for their preheats. Hunter is always hard in the days leading up to my actual heat. It would make sense Lincoln is too and by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, I think he likes it.

HUNTER

Slouched at the table, I stretch my leg out over the chair next to me, the ache in my thigh a dull reminder of the bandages I finally got at the hospital. Nobody asked any questions but that comes with years working with the Northvale police and not the fact that I’ve earned their silence. No doubt they scribbled ‘gunshot wound’ in my chart, regardless. Fine by me. I’ve got enough on my plate without their suspicions.

Working through the documents again, the table is even more a mess of papers and photos than yesterday. Grainy images of crime scenes and typed reports that don’t tell me enough. My fingers flip through a folder, my eyes scanning the same lines I’ve read a dozen times. Nothing is clicking and I’m not sure how we’re supposed to find anything new when an entire team of federal agents have been on this shit.

I frown as I flip back a page, then forward again. Something catches my eyes, a detail I almost missed. “Wait.” Roberts looks up from his laptop and Ruiz pauses mid-sip. “The guy we arrested on the drug charges—he gave Hex’s name. But none of this,” I gesture at the files, “is linked to drugs. Just murders.”

Roberts leans back, his chair creaking as the front legs rock off the floor. “So, what? A cover-up? A distraction?”

Ruiz cuts in. “Neither one made the front page,” he says. “No headlines, no big busts. I don’t see the connection, other than that guy dropping Hex’s name.”

I rub my jaw, my thumb brushing the edge of a tattoo peeking out from my collar. “Unless Hex isn’t a man like everyone thinks. We said it before, that it could be more than one man. Maybe even an organization. Think about it—if they’re dipping their fingers into more than just killing, it could be a whole network. Drugs, murders, maybe other shit we haven’t even touched.”

The fed sitting across from me, a guy named Benji with a tie too tight for his neck, nods slowly like he’s been waiting for me to catch up. “We came to a similar conclusion,” he pushes out. “But we wanted an independent eye. Problem is, Hex leaves nothing behind. No DNA, no fingerprints, no trace.”

I lean forward, my elbows hitting the table, papers crinkling under my weight. “How the fuck is that possible?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to, frustration bleeding through. A group this clean, this invisible is unnatural. Even the best criminals slip up eventually or leave something for us to grab onto. A hair, a print, a witness who talks.

Benji shrugs. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Every scene is sterile. No physical evidence, no digital footprint. Whoever—or whatever—Hex is, they know how to disappear.”

I sit back, my leg still propped on the chair, the ache in my thigh pulsing in time with my thoughts.

Roberts taps his pen against his laptop, humming as he thinks before speaking. “So, what’s the play? If Hex is a group, we’re not just looking for one guy. Could be dozens. Hundreds.”

“Start with the drug angle,” I say, flipping open another file. “The guy we nabbed—he didn’t just drop Hex’s name for fun. He knew something. We lean on him, see what else he’s holding back.” My eyes scan a report, a murder case from two years ago. Stabbing, brutal, no witnesses. But there’s a note buried in the margins—an arrest for a drug deal the same week, same neighborhood. I flip to another file, another murder. Same deal. A drug bust nearby, same timeframe. “Look at this,” I say, sliding the files toward Ruiz. “Two past murders with Hex’s MO. Both had drug arrests in the area around the same time.”

Ruiz squints at the pages, his coffee forgotten. “You’re saying there’s a pattern?”

“I’m saying it’s too clean to be a coincidence.” I lean back, threading my fingers behind my head. “I’m just going to play the devil’s advocate for a minute. What if… the murders are the loud part, but the drugs are the quiet money?”

Benji snorts from his seat, the other fed in his own world as he talks into a phone. “You’re thinking organized crime, then. Not just a lone wolf.”

“Something like that. It would make some kind of sense as to why none of the reports and eye witnesses make any sense. Someone detailed a drummer from a boyband, apparently.” I laugh at that because I managed to look up Lunar Ransom and the drummer is the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life. There’s no way a face like that is running rampant through the streets.

I glance over at the clock just above the door and grimace at how late it’s gotten. As much as I want to go home, though, I need to know that Carter’s not getting out tonight. We’re tooclose to Celeste’s heat for me to worry about him lurking around my goddamn house.

Roberts sighs and then throws his hands up to stretch, his back audibly cracking. “It’s a signature, which means we need to pull every Hex murder out and crosscheck it with drug arrests around the same time. Better we check for all of the arrests around the same time since we have no idea what we’re looking for.”

Benji scribbles something down and then starts typing away on his phone. I have a feeling our expertise is being used because the agents hit a wall but I’m not about to call them on it.

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