Page 109 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
Could this happen? This dream I cradled all those years ago. That dream that was smashed to pieces on that hot summer’s night.
Now the pieces are rearranging, reforming, binding together stronger than ever. A pack.
Me. Axel. The four men I love most in the world.
And Bea.
Beautiful Bea Carsen.
I can almost taste happiness on the end of my tongue, see it right there in the distance, ready for us to grab with both hands.
We can’t afford to fuck things up. I need to talk to the others about that development.
23
Bea
I perchon the end of my bed wrapped in a giant fluffy towel and let Angel Stormgate rifle through my wardrobe and pick out my outfit.
It’s not like when Karl used to do it, insisting I wear whatever he dragged out of the cardboard, not caring if I liked the clothes or not.
With Angel it’s different.
I told him I had no idea what to wear to go sailing on a yacht, and he offered to help me find the perfect outfit. He’s also keen to hear my opinion. When I frown at the first dress, he holds up, he notices immediately.
“You don’t like it?”
“I like it, but the straps dig into my back and, I don’t know, since I presented, I’ve found I’m way more sensitive to things like that.”
“Omegas have sensitive skin – it’s why you crave soft things.” He slides the dress back onto the rail. “I’ll take you out shopping if you want, find you things that would be more comfortable. We could bring Molly. She’ll know all the best places.”
I swing my legs and smile at him. “I’d like that.”
Maybe the old Bea would have protested that she didn’t need the charity, but I’m finding that actually it’s rather nice to be spoiled. Especially when that spoiling comes in the form of mind-rearranging orgasms.
I also like the idea of getting to know his sister better.
My previous attempts to make friends with other omegas failed miserably, but I have a feeling Molly is someone I could actually get along with. And having a friend who knows more about this omega business than me, would be extremely helpful. I wonder if she’d also have some tips on how to keep her brothers in line.
I watch Angel, already dressed in chinos and a button-down, continue his perusal of my wardrobe. Even with his clothes on the man looks like some kind of Greek freaking god. I bite my lip.
I’ve had more amazing sex – which was not technically that kind of sex – in the last few days than I have my entire life.
My aunt Julia and cousin Courtney may actually be right. Being an omega – being a pack omega to these men – may be what I need. If every shower in my life was like the one I’ve just taken with the man in front of me, I’d be a very happy and satisfied woman.
And being in their pack, I’d get to keep all of them, all six.
Angel’s words about the sex come floating back into my mind with that thought.
Could I handle sex with six men?
I close my eyes and try to imagine it. I half expect some monstrous and overwhelming vision to enter my mind; instead the vision that appears behind my closed eyelids is sizzling hot.
“Bea?” Angel says, and when I open my eyes I find him examining my face with a quizzical look. My cheeks sizzle and I’m grateful he can’t read my mind. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, strolling over with a simple, white summer dress in his hand.
“Never you mind,” I tell him, reaching for the dress.
“Now I’m intrigued.”
