I snuggle into Rickon’s side on the couch in my old room, half listening as he reads articles written about me. Since Zack upended our lives a few months back, we haven’t had time to breathe. But busy as he’s been, Rickon’s still collected articles from every online journalist and news source.
Callisto works at the desk, catching up on his caseload, and now and then when he glances up, our eyes meet. It reminds me of the days we lived together, which were enjoyable so long as he wasn’t badgering me. I guess I missed his presence more than I acknowledged. And his scent.
I inhale deeply, the combination of his rich cherry wood and Rickon’s vanilla giving aromatherapy candle vibes—and I’m in dire need of healing. My body reacts with warm desire. I don’t remember a lot from my last heat, but I do recall Callisto’s sultry voice telling me how well I was doing on his fist. My belly flares with interest, and I drag my gaze away, reminding myself he’s not my alpha.
Rickon opens the next article on his tablet, and then wraps his arm around me, tickling his fingers over my hip as he reads on. The fake news about my supposed relationship with Brad blew over fast after our media release. Mostly the public are curious about my sudden rise to fame and the alpha I keep on a leash.
And since the court case, everyone knows about my humiliating past.
I glance over to the bed, waiting like a sentry for my heat to arrive. Could be any moment now. The guys and Samantha discussed battle plans in hushed voices while I showered, and I can’t decide if I made the right choice or not. Back at the House of Bitches, I at least knew exactly what was coming. Today, everything feels new and I have no idea how my body will respond.
I wriggle, uncomfortable, and then realize the warmth in my belly has spread. Tension grips me.
“You’re okay, omega,” Rickon declares, stroking under my shirt hem.
Fuck, he smells so good. A shiver races through me, and I turn my face into his chest, fighting the first touches of panic.
Rickon plays his fingertips along my ribs. “You smell so good, Biscuit.”
“Yeah?” I ask, a needy whine in my voice. He smells even better, all smooth butter.
Rickon sets the tablet aside and drags me onto his lap, facing him. “Let me rephrase myself. You smell utterly divine, Red Jones.” He moans softly in appreciation.
I dip my head into his shoulder and chuckle. “Divine, huh?”
“Yep. I want to eat you right up like a dessert.” His scent thickens, turning sugary-sweet. A part of me says it’s only an automatic alpha response to my rising fever, but I shut the Negative Nancy voice down. I don’t care. My man wanting me is the most beautiful feeling.
A soft pant escapes my lips, and I lift my head, searching for cooler air. The room ripples with a foggy film, blurring the two alphas and making the light dance. Within it lurks the memories of all my previous heats and a choking desire to have just one normal, enjoyable heat. Would that really be too much to ask? The other Red closes in, her distant banshee screech echoing in my ears.
“Rickon,” I whine, turning to look for exits.
“Come to bed, Biscuit,” he orders gently. While I wasn’t looking, he stripped his shirt, freeing so much scent I can’t handle it. My pussy throbs with sudden, desperate need.
“Bed,” I murmur, glancing over his shoulder.
The double bed with a wooden headboard and white sheets looks harmless enough, but I know from experience that beds can bite. Rickon slides me off his thighs, and I stumble to my feet, torn between desire and fear.
I know I told them to restrain me, but now that I’m here with my skin tight and itchy and a fever turning into an inferno in my belly, I don’t think I can go through with it.
“Maybe not,” I mutter, backing away. Not without Zack.
I knew I needed all my alphas to survive my heat . . . but they aren’t here.
Wild Red whispers in my ear.You can’t do this. They’ll take your haze and leave you lying there. You won’t survive. Let me protect you, like I always have, O-11. Let me break you free.
My back hits a warm mass, and a forest scent drowns out every other thought.
“We’re here for you, Red Jones,” Callisto murmurs in his life-changing silky voice. “Look at your alpha.”
He angles me to face Rickon, who strips the last of his clothes away, leaving him standing pale and naked in the sunlight. Someone remembered that I hate darkness. I hiccup. My gaze drops, following the lines of his slender body down to the ravinesof his Adonis belt. Where they meet, his cock rises, already stiff with desire.
I need that inside me, right fucking now.
When I reach for Rickon with a whine, he backs up to the bed before opening his arms. Teasing, pleading, enticing. I launch myself out of Callisto’s grip, and Rickon catches me. We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of messy kisses and grabbing hands, and I writhe myself into his body blindly. If I can just get him inside me, maybe the heat will stall out.
“You’re on top, omega,” he growls out, the slightest touch of domination in his voice. Rickon pressures my hips, his cock maddeningly close to my entrance. “Take what you need, Biscuit.”
I whimper with blazing lust and reach down, grasping his dick. I want it so much that I tremble, and Rickon gasps at my touch. Kneeling over him, I rub my pussy against the length, wetting it with my hot slick. The friction feels dazzling.
