Page 102 of Eight Count Heat
The approval in his voice sends heat straight through me. I shift in my seat, trying to ignore the way my body responds to his praise, but Tyler notices.
"Easy," he murmurs, fingers finding a pressure point that helps calm the spike of arousal. "Breathe through it."
"You okay?" Beckett asks, leaning slightly closer. "You look flushed."
"Just warm in here," I deflect, grateful when the server returns with our drinks.
Food ordering provides a temporary distraction, but as soon as the server leaves, the sexual tension ratchets up again. Gray continues watching me with that dangerous focus, while Bo's lingering glances make me wonder what his hands would feel like on me. Then I remember what he agreed to do later and heat flashes through me so hard I gasp.
"Tyler," I whisper during a lull in conversation. "I need more."
"More pressure points?" he asks quietly.
"More contact. The heat's building again."
His fingers pause, then slide higher on my thigh, finding the hem of my skirt. "May I?"
I nod, hyperaware that we're surrounded by other diners but desperate for relief. Tyler's hand pushes my skirt higher before slipping underneath, fingers finding bare skin with methodical intent.
The contact is electric. My enhanced sensitivity makes every touch feel magnified, Tyler's skilled fingers sliding between my legs to find exactly where I need him most. The dual sensation of his palm working my clit while his fingers pump inside me makes me bite my lip to keep from moaning.
"Better?" he asks, watching my face carefully.
"Much." I take a steadying breath, grateful for his expertise.
Across the table, Gray's nostrils flare as he catches the shift in my scent. He can tell exactly what Tyler's doing to me under the tablecloth, and his jaw tightens as he watches my face flush with obvious pleasure.
"Something interesting happening over there?" Bo asks, his own enhanced senses picking up on the change. His warm brown eyes darken as he takes in my slightly parted lips, the way I'm gripping my water glass.
"Tyler's helping me with some tension," I manage, voice breathier than intended.
"We can see that," Zane says, playful eyes locked on mine. "You look like you're enjoying his... assistance."
Before I can respond, Beckett's hand slides higher on my other thigh, fingers trailing up until they meet Tyler's. "Room for one more?" he murmurs against my ear.
Tyler doesn't pause in his rhythm, but glances at Beckett with a slight nod. "I think she’d like that."
The casual coordination makes my head spin. Beckett's fingers join Tyler's between my legs, one hand working my clit while the other pumps inside me in perfect synchronization. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, pleasure building so fast I have to press my napkin to my mouth to muffle a whimper. I can only hope the faint squelching sounds are only audible to the table.
"Jesus, she's soaked," Beckett breathes, looking down at the table, his fingers sliding easily through my wetness. "You feel how ready she is?"
"Fuck, yes," Tyler whispers, voice strained with his own arousal. "She's been dripping since we sat down."
Around the table, every Alpha has gone still, their attention fixed on me as I fall apart between Tyler and Beckett's skilled hands. Even Jackson, sitting at the far end, watches with dark intensity despite his usual avoidance.
"Look at her," Eli says, voice rough with want. "Look how beautiful she is when she lets go."
Gray's hands clench into fists on the tablecloth. "You're being too obvious. People will notice."
"Let them notice," Zane says, pupils blown wide as he tracks every micro-expression on my face. "She's ours."
The possessive declaration sends heat straight through me, my inner walls clenching around Tyler's fingers as another wave of pleasure builds. Beckett feels my response and increases his pace, chuckling low as his thumb circles my clit. It seems his bravado wasn’t misplaced after all.
"That's it, sweetheart," he encourages, lips brushing my ear. "Let us take care of you. Let the whole team see how good we make you feel."
Cameron shifts in his seat at the far end, slate eyes burning as he watches me struggle to stay quiet. Even Eli, usually so analytical, looks captivated by the sight of me being pleasured by two of his teammates.
"She's close," Tyler murmurs, fingers curling to hit that perfect spot inside me. "I can feel her getting tighter."
