Page 55 of In Knots

Chapter 15

“Igotta get back to work,” he tells me later as his knot deflates. “You wanna take a shower.” I snuggle into his arms. “Or you can climb into my bed and stay there all day. Wait for me to finish work.” I pinch his arm and he chuckles. “It was worth a try,” he says, lifting me from his lap and placing me down on the sofa. He disappears inside his room, returning dressed in his overalls, and throws me a towel. “Try not to use all the water. We’re on a metre here, baby.”

“I’ll try,” I promise.

He bends down and kisses me. “You feel OK?” His eyes are serious.

“I guess a little sore, but all warm and fuzzy mostly.”

“Ahh, I like that,” he nibbles on my lips.

When he’s gone, I lift myself lazily from the sofa and, with a little apprehension, head for the bathroom. With some relief, I find it reasonably clean if small and cluttered with shaving foam, razors, deodorant and body wash. I spend a few minutes flicking open the caps on each bottle and sniffing the contents, trying to decide which product belongs to which alpha. I recognise Buzz’s deodorant and Ryan’s shampoo, but other than that it’s a mixture of their scents, all just as enticing and delicious. I know perfume manufacturers have tried to imitate the scent of an alpha and an omega, and now I understand why. If they could bottle the way these four alphas smell, they’d make a fortune.

I wash quickly in the shower, relieved to find I’m not as sore between my thighs as I thought I would be, and I marvel at that. My body has taken two large alpha cocks in the space of a few hours. I’d expected that to be uncomfortable, even though I’m an omega and designed to take a knot. In fact, I feel like I could do it again. And again. And again. I wipe the back of my hand against the mirror, swiping away the condensation and stare at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed and I don’t think it’s from the hot water. I think it’s from this need they’ve stirred within me. This need to spend the rest of my days lying in the arms of these alphas.

I twist my head away. That’s a dangerous thought.

I think back to my conversation with Ryan this morning. About how entangled this situation has already become. My parents. Simon. His parents. Ryan. Buzz. The pack.

They all want different things from me and I know I can’t please them all. That however this situation ends, someone is going to get hurt.

And for a moment I have a sinking feeling that it will be me.

One thing is clear, though, I am beginning to understand what I want. Perhaps I’ve never felt it before. Never really known.

But I do now.

I don’t want Simon Stanford and all his money.

I want Ryan and Buzz.

I step out of the bathroom and glance around at the cozy apartment.

Perhaps I even want to be a part of this pack.

But that’s impossible for a girl like me, isn’t it?

Once I’m dressed, I tiptoe around the apartment, exploring the contents of the kitchen cupboards and the fridge, and then stealing into the alphas’ bedrooms. Ryan and Buzz’s first.

It’s a small room with two single beds pushed up against each wall as well as two chest of drawers and a wardrobe. The beds are dressed in dark sheets that match the blinds and on the walls are framed posters of various sports cars and motorbikes. Their leather jackets hang in the wardrobe, and I pull Buzz’s out and slip it over my shoulders. It drowns me just like Ryan’s did, but I love the smooth feel of the leather and the scent. I slip it off and examine the badge painted onto the reverse. A skeleton dressed like a highwayman from the 18th Century, feathered hat on his head, breeches and boots on his legs, sitting astride a motorbike. The ghostly white letters spelling out Highwaymen drip above the scene, the full moon hanging behind. Buzz and Ryan both have tattoos similar to this across their torsos, and I stare into the blank eyes of the skull and shiver.

I’m being a fool. There is more to this pack than I realise. Ryan swore they were the good guys, but I only have his word for that. I don’t know for sure that they are. Even if my parents would let me choose them, even if they wanted me, maybe they wouldn’t be the men I think they are. Maybe they wouldn’t treat me right and keep me safe.

Hooking the jacket back in the wardrobe, I creep out of the bedroom and into the next.

The setup is almost identical, even the posters on the wall are similar, although the scents are different here and a bedside table rests between the two beds, a lamp perching on top along with a stack of paperbacks. I examine the covers, recognising several as literary hits from the last few years. The spines are broken, the pages thumbed, and I wonder if these books are second-hand or well-read.

Placing them back down, I take a last look around the room. I can hardly understand how a man like Bear could fit in a bed like that, could fit in this room.

It’s so cramped. There is no space for me.

When I climb back down the stairs and into the garage, I spot Cam sitting in the office, his legs resting on the desk and another of those books in his lap. He looks up from the pages as I enter.

“The others went to pick up some lunch. They were quarrelling about what to get you. I said they should just ask, but,” he shrugs and takes a bite out of a half-eaten apple. “Are you hungry?” he asks, peering down at the piece of fruit in his hand.

“I’m fine,” I say, dropping onto one of the chairs and sliding my hands under my thighs. “Good book?” I ask.

“Not sure yet,” he says. “I think it has potential to be very good.”

---