The jealousy that spikes through me is irrational and possessive and everything I’ve tried not to feel about her. But it’s there anyway.
“This is getting…” I trail off. “We’re talking about having sex with our business rival.”
“Don’t make it sound crude,” Dax snaps. “If we did this—if—it would be about taking care of someone who needs help, not... not that.”
Someone who needs help.
The words send another thrill through me.
“She’s not ours to take care of,” I say, but the words sound hollow even to me. “She’s her own person.”
“I know that,” Dax says, but his scent has gone complicated. Burned caramel mixed with something possessive and territorial. “I just meant... if she needs help and asks for it, we should be willing to provide it. Pack takes care of…”
Pack.
It keeps coming back to that word.
We are pack. And she’s an omega. Adding a physical component wouldn’t really change the nature of our relationship.
Except it absolutely would.
Especially for me. Because I can’t knot Sierra without her knowing how I feel. I’m observant and careful, but I’m not that good of an actor.
She’d know. They’d all know.
And maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Maybe it’s time to stop hiding.
“Let’s just... take this one step at a time,” I suggest, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Focus on getting throughtonight. Make sure she has what she needs. We can worry about the rest if and when it becomes relevant.”
Everyone nods, but I can see the same thoughts running through their heads that are running through mine.
What does she look like right now? Is she using a toy? How big is it? Does it have a proper knot? Is she thinking about us while she uses it?
Does she wish it was one of our knots instead of silicone?
Does she notice me the way I notice her?
“I need air,” Cole announces suddenly, heading for the back door. “Just... five minutes of not smelling her heat. I can’t think straight.”
He’s outside before anyone can respond, standing on the covered porch and staring out at the storm.
The rest of us exchange looks.
“He’s right,” Malik says quietly. “We’re all going a little crazy. This is going to be harder than we thought.”
“Understatement,” Dax mutters.
I can still smell her. Even from here, I can smell honeycomb and heat-sweet slick. My alpha is practically howling at me to go to her, to stop this madness of pretending we’re not all thinking about it.
And the worst part? I know exactly what she needs. I know what would help her. And I’m standing here doing nothing.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Dax mutters suddenly.
We both turn to stare at him.
“Dax,” Malik warns, but his own scent has gone thick with interest.
