Page 115 of Pack Choice
Colten
Her heat lastsfor two days straight. Intense, passionate, incredible.
I lie back on the bed, my body spent, my muscles exhausted, my bones aching. I can’t remember a heat like it. Nor an omega as needy as her.
I think back to that first night I met her, when she looked me square in the eye, like no omega should, and told me that one alpha would never be enough to satisfy her.
I scoffed at her. It may have been some time, but I’ve seen omegas through their heat before. Plenty of omegas. One on one. I’d been enough for those omegas, me alone. I’d kept them coming like a good alpha should.
Molly. I should have known she’d be different. I would never be enough. Not on my own anyway. The woman is a firecracker after all, brighter, more vibrant, far hotter than anyone I’ve ever met.
It had taken all three of us working together as a … pack, to satisfy her, to keep her rolling from one delicious orgasm to the next.
I close my eyes and let my head drop back against the pillow. Her orgasms! I love her orgasms. The sight, the sound, the smell. I’ve never experienced anything as erotic as Molly Stormgate coming and I’ve made my fair share of women come.
“Here,” River says, padding into the room with a mug of coffee in each hand, passing one to me. Molly and Ford are still out cold, their bodies twined around each other and tangled in the sheets, their chests rising and falling as they breathe in sync.
I shake my head, refusing the coffee. “I’ve got to go.”
“Go?” my friend says, a deep wrinkle between his brows.
“It’s over now. Her heat is finished.”
“Yeah.” River places my cup on a dresser top and takes a sip from his own. “Damn shame. I didn’t want it to end.”
“It’s just as well it did. Don’t you have a race in a couple of days?”
“I don’t give a shit about that.”
I scoff. Racing’s all River’s cared about for years. He cares about it even more than he cares about fucking around with women. It’s a well-known fact. One that doesn’t require you to be his oldest friend with extensive insight into his psychology to know. It’s why being in a pack with him would never have worked out. Nothing will ever really come before his racing.
“Well, I’ve got to get back home.”
River examines me. “You know the omega won’t be happy when she wakes up and finds you gone.”
I roll off the bed, searching the floor for my pants.
“It can’t be helped.”
My friend is quiet, sipping more of his deeply black coffee. He’s always liked it so strong it makes my eyes water.
“When are you going to tell her?” he says, finally.
I scoop up my shirt from the floor and peer at him. For once, he looks concerned. There’s no humor, none of the usual craziness. It isn’t a sardonic concern. It’s genuine.
“This was …” I pause, searching for the words. How could I possibly describe the last two days? Describe how special they were. How much they’ll always mean to me. “Good.”
“Good,” River repeats flatly.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Buddy.”
“Don’t worry,Buddy,” he says with scorn. “I learned long ago not to.”
I stare at him, unsure what he means. It’s me that couldn’t afford to get my hopes up. Not when I had responsibilities weighing on my shoulders. I climb into my pants and sling my arms into my shirt.
At the door, I pause once more. “Just tell her some business came up. Urgent business. That I wanted to stay but couldn’t.”
“You’d be better off telling her the truth.”
