Timber must be rubbing off on me. Like when his monkey brain activates after his hazard alarm goes off, my sleepy brain is very simple.
There’s one thing I want when I wake up, and I’m going to keep going until I get it. For Timber, it’s milk; for me, it’s my alpha. And with no 6ft. 4in. muscle machine in the building, the next best thing is to shuffle around his room like a zombie. I plod across his laminated floor to the sprawling extra king-size bed, which takes up half the room.
It’s made up with pure black sheets that match the rest of the furniture, and a giant fluffy duvet that’s scrunched up in a pile atthe end of the bed like he’d kicked it off in the morning. It’s the best thing to make my omega side happy.
I groan as I stumble, tipping forward the moment I get close enough.
Letting out an “oof” as my face hits his pillow, I grab the ends of the duvet and drag it up. It must be a weighted blanket, because the heave-ho almost wakes me up completely as I wrestle to get the damn thing over me.
The instant I lift it, I’m hit with a thick waft of coffee musk, and my eyes roll as need surges through my body. I bury myself in the duvet, creating a cocoon with it so I can trap myself in there with the scent. I leave myself a little hole by the pillow to breathe through, but apart from that, I have my own coffee nest.
In my sleepy state, I don’t care if Timber comes home and finds his horny cooksnuggled up in his bed, totally naked. I need him so much that he can decide what he wants to do with me if he does. I just hope thatsomethinginvolves his cock.
***
Igroan as my consciousness drifts, heightened by the overwhelming scent of coffee.
It hums and buzzes through my body, giving me the energy I need to wake up and decide I absolutely do not want to move a single inch. Because I’m covered up to my nose in my alpha’s bed, and I never want to leave.
The duvet is so fluffy, his pillows have the perfect level of bounce, and the way my ass sinks into the mattress makes me sure he has one of those space beds, which are so comfy I could get lost in it.
That’s the dream. All I need now is to be crushed by a wall of muscle and have it blended with Kane’s lavender.
I groan at the thought of both of them here with me. And, surprise surprise, my pussy is already working on getting me ready for them.
I quickly flip onto my side in case any slick gets on his mattress. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, or have been slicking for.
As I turn over, I catch sight of Timber’s monster clock, which sits underneath his TV on the far side of the huge room. It’s the size of a basketball and covered in spikes like a pufferfish in defense mode. I’m pretty sure I can see blood on the tips, but I don’t want to know.
He falls out of bed, crawls toward that thing every morning, gets jabbed in the hand, and hestilldoesn’t wake up?
Maybe if he were crawling toward my pussy, he’d be more enthusiastic.
I groan as happiness buzzes through me as I think of all the other ways I could wake him up.
I’m going to have a black belt in slicking by the time I leave here.
Shaking my hips, I stretch my toes down and my arms up, enjoying a nice yawn. Because, according to his big clock, I still have at least an hour before he comes home.
Is it wrong to use how he can’t smell me to do stuff like this? Definitely.
Would I do this even if he could scent me? Yeah, probably.
I lean back, checking out a patch of drool, then roll my eyes. Of course, I was going to slaver when there’s coffee everywhere. I’ll change the bedsheets before he comes back and pretend it was his housekeeper, so it’s fine for now.
The only thing I can’t do is spread my arms and legs and wave them about like a snow angel, just in case my slick goes a-dripping. My stuff’s like acid, and will soak right in and melt his mattress.
I need to keep up the charade so that we can keep our business going, but there’s a poisonous voice at the back of my mind that’s telling me I’ve scent matched with two millionaire hockey players, and all our debts could be solved if I told them the truth about our finances.
I grab the skin of my forearm and pinch myself so hard I yelp because I’m never doing something like that to them. Not once. Not ever.
My brother and I worked hard to get where we are. We did everything we could for years to get away from our grandparents so we never have to rely on anyone again. Our freedom and honoring our parents are all we’ve ever wanted, and there’s no way I’m going to resort to using Kane and Timber like that. It’s basically gold-digging, but professional. Business-digging.
I know Luke would be on board with it, but it is so wrong. And it would wipe away everything we had done to reach this place… where I’m cross-dressing and slicking in my boss’s bed, worrying about our debt, all because Luke got hit by a van.
I groan as I curl my knees to my chest and hug myself as guilt pierces through me. I’m already lying to Timber about my identity; isn’t that enough?
Pressing my face into his pillow, I draw in his deep scent. I don’t know how much he sweats at night, but it’s so thick and musty that it makes me hope he smells like this when he fucks as well.
