Page 57 of In Deep
Zane props up on one elbow and peers down into my face, tracing his forefinger between my breasts and towards my tummy button. “Do you fancy him, Omega?”
“Ollie?” I say, smiling. “Do you think there is a woman alive who wouldn’t find your pack mate attractive?”
Zane peers over at Duncan, and I flick my gaze between the two of them. “What?” I ask.
“He thinks you’re pretty.”
The blush at my cheeks spreads across my body and straight to my core. “Does he want to …?” I flick my gaze between my two alphas again. “Because if he did …”
“I think he’d want nothing more than to fuck you senseless.”
I shiver, drawing my hands over my head. “And what would you two think if he did?”
“It feels greedy keeping a delicious omega like you to ourselves. We’re used to sharing.”
“Besides, we’d get our turn at listening to you being fucked.” Both their hands are on me again. This conversation is turning all three of us on.
“Well, then,” I say, “let’s see what happens.”
* * *
At the weekend, Duncan insists I join the Sunday pack dinner.
“It’s a tradition, Omega,” Duncan says with a tone I know by now means he will not accept any argument. “We all sit down to dinner on a Sunday together. As a family. Seb cooks the best roast. It’s about time you showed your face.”
“Are you sure I’ll be welcome?” I ask, thinking of Seb. Zane and Duncan seem unaware that their pack mate despises me.
“I told you, he just needs to get to know you, and this is the perfect opportunity. Plus, Ollie will be there.”
I roll my eyes, smiling. “OK, I’ll come. I love a home-cooked roast and I haven’t had one in ages.”
“Just one thing,” Duncan tells me. “You have to promise to wear the butt plug.” I’ve been wearing it most days. To lectures and classes and my shifts in the museum. I don’t find it a nuisance. In fact, it’s a deliciously naughty way to go about my usual business, when nobody else knows. My alphas find it hot too. They’re always asking where and when I wore it.
So I agree, even though I’m racked with nerves. I remember the way Seb scowled at me, his scent full of displeasure, and my knees almost knocking together in fear despite my determination to stay strong. What will he be like at dinner?
And then there’s Ollie. We haven’t talked about the possibility of me hooking up with him since the other night, but it’s been playing around and around in my mind.
I dress in what I hope is a suitable summer dress. It’s light and pretty, but not too revealing. Then, I set off for dinner with four alphas, wondering to myself if I am once again walking straight into the wolves’ lair.
Zane meets me at the door and, with a big grin, leads me through to the large kitchen at the rear of the house. The evening is unusually warm and the bifold doors are pulled back, letting in the cool breeze and, with it, the floral scents of the garden.
The long table is set for five people with wine, the roast chicken, vegetables, and potatoes already laid out. Seb stands by the counter stirring gravy, and I notice his shoulders tense as I enter. Duncan is walking around the table setting out cutlery and looks up when we arrive, coming over to kiss my cheek.
“Hi,” I say shyly in Seb’s direction, and his eyes meet mine for just a fraction of a second, that darkness making my head spin. Then he jerks his chin at me, before carrying the gravy jug to the table and taking a seat at the head.
“Come on, it’s going to get cold,” he says.
Zane positions me at the centre of the table, sitting next to me and pouring us both a large glass of wine. Duncan takes a seat opposite as Ollie enters the room, his thumbs hooked into the back pockets of his jeans.
“Hey,” he says to us all, and I’m struck again by how beautiful he is, seeming to light up the room as he enters. I watch him as he takes the seat next to Duncan, unable to drag my eyes from him. His long golden hair is tied in a messy bun at the base of his skull and I have a strong urge to reach out and run my fingers through the strands. “Nice to see you here, Rosie.” I blush pathetically as he loads up his plate and the others follow suit.
“Come on,” Zane nudges me with his elbow, “help yourself.” And I wonder if there’s a double entendre in that statement.
I fish out a couple of roast potatoes from the dish as well as some carrots, peas and kale and slide two thin slices of the roast chicken onto my plate. I look up to locate the gravy jug and find all the alphas staring at me.
“What?” I say.
“Nothing,” Zane says, passing me the gravy jug and shaking his head.
