Page 126 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
“What’s the rule that makes this pack work?” I ask again.
The line between his brows deepens. “Honesty.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Some things are better left as a secret. I can handle it.” He sniffs, some of his guard settling back into place. “I’ve been handling it for years.”
I glare at him. “Fuck that. Your version of handling this isn’t cutting it anymore.”
“What do you propose, then? Word vomit all my feelings to my best friend and have him never want to speak to me again?” River scoffs.
I sit up so I can look him dead in the eye. “Do you really think your bond is so fragile that telling Jackson you love him would ruin things?”
I’ve felt through the bond how close they are. How much affection they have for each other. Jackson is the most steadfast person I’ve met. There’s no way he’d run.
“He loves you, too, and even if he tells you he has no romantic interest in you, he’llstilllove you.” I place my hands on River’s shoulders, right on top of the beautiful ink designs that decorate his skin, and squeeze. “We’re a pack. We’re not leaving you.”
River opens and closes his mouth a few times before he deflates, his defenses lowering again. “…Okay.”
I narrow my eyes. “We’ll figure this out. Not you.We.”
River sighs heavily, and I feel his surrender through the bond. “Okay.”
Relief swells inside me, and I wrap my arms around my mate. When we part, I grimace at the sticky cum that’s smeared across our skin. “Now let’s go take a shower before this dries in my chest hair.”
River snorts. “Aww, I kinda like you covered in me.” His eyes drop to the trail of his release, slowly leaking from me onto the bed. “And full of me.”
I shake my head, secretly loving how much his alpha wants to claim me, an older alpha past his prime. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you reapply it whenever you want.”
My heart flutters when my handsome, wonderful mate grins back at me. “Good.” He winces a little as he goes to stand up. “Hmm, shower and maybe a gummy. I shouldn’t have gone that hard. My back was already mad at me, but you were just so…” A little growl rumbles out of him.
I flush at the sound, my cock twitching with interest. “You should be more careful.”
“It was worth it,” River says with a wicked smile as he notices my cock swelling back to life. “And look who’s needy again. Come on, let’s go wash my toy off and get him ready to be played with again.”
40
Something wrigglingnext to me stirs me awake, and I’m greeted by big brown puppy eyes gazing at me. Dahlia’s nose is inches from my face, and when she sees I’m awake, she squirms a little closer and presses her wet nose against my cheek.
Jackson is passed out on the other side of her, his mouth slack as he snores softly. He must’ve let Dolly into the room in the middle of the night. I passed out after his third round of making me come on his cock as he whispered all manner of filth to me.
The bedroom is still dark, so it must be early. Too early for a little dog to be begging to be fed, but maybe Dahlia thinks I’ll fall for her charms.
“Hey, angel,” I whisper, smiling when her ears perk up at the sound of my voice and her tail thumps. The movement reminds me I want to ask Jackson about the extent of her back injury, since she uses a wheelchair but can still wag her tail. I don’t want to do anything to hurt her inadvertently or make things worse. The sweet doxie has already stolen my heart.
I lift the edge of the thin blanket and pat the spot next to me. Dahlia takes the invitation, scooting her way up and under the blanket, where she settles in against my chest with a soft snuffle. I stroke her back, my heart expanding as her warm body snuggles against me.
She smells faintly of sunshine and corn chips, and oddly enough, my omega loves it. The newly awakened, instinctual side of me relaxes with the combined scents of Jackson and Dahlia, a potent balm for the tangled emotions that linger on the edges of my mind from last night.
“You’re not going to let me sneak out, are you?” I murmur as Dahlia repositions herself to get even more comfortable, turning into a toasty lump under the blanket beside me.
It’s for the best, even if the thought of interacting with River and Ambrose after what I heard last night makes my stomach clench.
I shouldn’t have been listening in. It was wrong on so many levels.
But I was languid and happy between my Jackson-induced orgasm, a hot shower, and finding out they got all my favorite toiletries to make me feel welcome as their guest. That, combined with the conversation we’d had before dinner, where we’d talked about boundaries and the eventuality of us all being intimate in the same space, made me weak.
The moment I heard a rough groan on the other side of the door, I was lured in. A siren song promising excitement and arousal.
Instead, what I got was a punch to the gut.
It’s my fault. It was a private conversation not meant for my ears. But knowing that doesn’t erase the impact it had. It was good that Jackson came back before I heard more.
