Page 84 of Stuck with my Pack
Before I can say a word, Brodie is there, his fingers threading into her hair as he captures her lips in a kiss, which is all tongue and need. Sophie moans into his mouth, her body tightening around my knot like she’s trying to pull me even deeper, and fuck—I feel it. The way she clenches down, the way her entire body responds to him, to me, to all of us.
She pulls back just enough to whisper against Brodie’s lips.
“More.”
That one word sends a bolt of heat straight through me because I know as soon as my knot deflates, as soon as I can pull out, she’ll be upstairs again—between them, between us—taking everything we have to give.
Brodie groans against her lips, his forehead pressing to hers as his hands slip to her waist, already guiding her up. “Then let’s go, sweetheart.”
37
SOPHIE
Iwoke this morning sated and sore in the most delicious way possible. Now looking around the inn’s kitchen, the idea of spending a day cleaning up sounds like pure torture.
I look over and see Brodie surveying the mess we’ve all managed to create in the last few days with a defeated look on his face.
Tools are scattered across the counters, coffee cups litter every available surface, and the faint scent of sawdust clings to the air. The guys are relentless when it comes to working on the inn when properly motivated, and my face heats up remembering why they were so motivated.
“That’s it,” I announce, crossing my arms. “we all need a break.”
Ethan looks up from the blueprint he’s been studying at the table, brow raised. “A break?” he repeats, like the word is foreign to him.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “You’ve been working nonstop, and I am officially declaring a mandatory pastry run.”
Tyler grins from where he’s washing dishes in the sink. “Pastries, huh? And where exactly are we supposed to get these magical pastries?”
I roll my eyes. “Dizzy D’s. In high school, I used to sneak off campus just to grab one of their giant, buttery, sinfully sugary cinnamon rolls.”
Brodie chuckles. “So, you’re saying we should pile into a car, drive into town, and eat our weight in cinnamon rolls? That’s the plan?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Exactly.”
Ethan sighs, but I catch the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
It doesn’t take long before we’re all crammed into Ethan’s SUV, rolling down the now-clear roads into town. The sun is bright against the melting snow, the air crisp but carrying the promise of spring.
I sit sandwiched in the backseat between Tyler and Brodie, their warmth pressing in on either side of me. Neither of them wanted to ride shotgun.
Tyler’s hand is on my thigh, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against my leggings. Brodie’s fingers brush against my wrist, his grip light but possessive. I shift slightly, feeling the weight of their attention settle over me.
“Haven’t you two had enough yet?” I tease, glancing between them.
Brodie leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “Not even close.”
Tyler smirks, moving his hand higher up my thigh. “You should know by now, sweetheart. We’ll never get enough of you.”
Heat rushes to my core, my Omega preening under their attention, but before I can say something witty back, the car rolls to a stop in front of the bakery.
The moment we step out of the car, the familiar scent of sugar and fresh bread fills my senses, making my stomach rumble in anticipation. I inhale deeply, letting the warmth of nostalgia settle in my chest.
It’s been years since I’ve been here, but everything is exactly the same—the little café tucked into the corner of the street, the bell above the door that jingles softly when it opens, the way the air inside is thick with cinnamon and vanilla.
Ethan catches my hand before I step inside, his grip firm but gentle. “We’ll just be two doors down,” he reminds me, his sharp blue eyes scanning the quiet street, ever the protector. “If anything feels off, you call.”
Brodie and Tyler both hesitate, their instincts bristling at the idea of leaving me alone, but I roll my eyes, shoving at Brodie’s chest lightly. “I think I can handle ordering some pastries without supervision,” I tease, though I know exactly what’s going through their minds. They don’t like me out of their sight, even in broad daylight. And I’d be lying if it didn’t fill me with warmth.
Tyler scoffs, crossing his arms. “I don’t know, Sophie; we’ve seen what sugar does to you.”
