The tension had been building for days. I felt it every time Sawyer's pale eyes tracked me across a room, hungry and barely leashed. Every time Kol's hand lingered on my waist a beat too long, his sunshine scent darkening to something richer, needier. They'd both been holding back since the rut with Reid, giving me space, giving me time — but I could smell the want on them like smoke, thick and impossible to ignore.
Tonight, I was done waiting.
I found them in the living room after dinner, Sawyer sprawled in the armchair by the fire, his long legs stretched out in front of him, firelight catching the auburn in his hair and turning it to copper. Kol was on the couch with a book he wasn't really reading, his golden eyes distant, his fingers absently tracing the spine. Reid and Nolan had gone to check on a sick calf in the barn, leaving the three of us alone for the first time in days.
"I want to talk to you both." My voice came out steadier than I felt, my heart pounding against my ribs as I stepped intothe room, closing the door behind me with a soft click. "About something important."
Sawyer straightened in his chair, his pale eyes sharpening with attention, his earth and leather scent spiking with something alert and watchful. The firelight played across his scarred forearms, illuminating the map of old wounds that told stories he never spoke aloud. Kol set down his book, his golden eyes finding mine, his brow furrowing with concern, his sunshine scent dimming slightly with worry.
"What's wrong?" Kol leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his voice warm with worry, his curls falling across his forehead in a way that made me want to brush them back. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"
"Nothing's wrong." I crossed the room slowly, feeling their eyes on me like a physical touch, heat spreading through my belly like warm honey. "I just... I've been thinking. About us. About what I want."
Sawyer's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath his stubbled skin, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair like he was holding himself back from something. I watched his knuckles go white, watched the tendons stand out in his forearms, watched the barely leashed want in his pale eyes.
"And what do you want?" His voice was low, rough, barely above a growl, his pale eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my breath catch, made something clench low in my belly.
I stopped between them, close enough to touch either one, my pulse thrumming in my throat. I could smell them both — Sawyer's earth and leather mixing with Kol's sunshine and citrus, creating something new and intoxicating that made my Omega purr with want, made slick begin to gather between my thighs.
"I want both of you." The words fell from my lips like stones into still water, rippling outward. "Tonight. Together."
Silence.
Kol made a soft sound, almost a whimper, his golden eyes going wide, his lips parting on a sharp inhale, his scent flooding with arousal so thick I could taste it on my tongue — warm honey and bright citrus and desperate need. His chest rose and fell faster, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of gold remained.
Sawyer didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stared at me with those pale eyes, his chest rising and falling faster, his knuckles going white where they gripped the chair. I could see the war playing out behind his eyes — want and fear and something fierce fighting for dominance.
"You're sure?" His voice was gravel, rough and scraped raw, his control visibly fraying at the edges. "Because once I start, I don't know if I can stop."
"I'm sure." I held his gaze, letting him see the certainty in my eyes, the want that had been building inside me for weeks. "I want this. I want you. Both of you."
Sawyer moved.
One second he was in the chair, the next he was on his feet, crossing the distance between us in two long strides, his hands finding my waist and spinning me around, pressing my back against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs. His mouth crashed into mine — hard, demanding, claiming — and I moaned against his lips, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
He kissed like he did everything else — intense, focused, consuming. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting me, owning me, and I melted into him, my body going soft and pliant against his hard edges. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, dark and dangerous, and I wanted more, wanted everything, wanted to drown in him.
"Been waiting for this." He growled against my lips, his voice vibrating through my chest, his hands sliding down to grip my hips hard enough to bruise. "Wanted you since the first moment I saw you. So fucking beautiful it hurt to look at you."
"Sawyer—" His name came out as a moan, broken and desperate, my head falling back against the wall as his mouth moved to my neck, his teeth scraping over my pulse point, making me shudder. I could feel his cock pressing against my belly through his jeans, hard and thick and insistent, and I rocked against him, needing friction, needing more.
"Let me." Kol's voice came from behind Sawyer, soft but urgent, his hands appearing on my waist, sliding beneath the hem of my shirt to find bare skin. His touch was warm, almost hot, and I gasped at the contrast — Sawyer's rough possession and Kol's gentle exploration. "Please. Let me touch her too."
Sawyer pulled back just enough to look at him, something passing between them — an understanding, an agreement, some silent conversation conducted in looks and scent — and then he was stepping to the side, making room, his hand staying possessively on my hip while Kol moved in.
Where Sawyer was fire and fury, Kol was warmth and wonder. He cupped my face in both hands, his golden eyes searching mine, his thumbs stroking across my cheekbones with a tenderness that made my chest ache. His hands were softer than Sawyer's, his touch lighter, but no less affecting.
"Hi." He breathed the word like a prayer, his sunshine scent wrapping around me like a blanket, bright and sweet and safe. "Is this really happening?"
"It's really happening." I pulled him closer, my fingers threading through his golden-brown curls, soft as silk against my skin. "Kiss me, Kol."
He did.
His kiss was different from Sawyer's — softer, sweeter, but no less consuming. He kissed me like I was something precious, something to be savored, his lips moving against mine in slow, drugging strokes that made my toes curl. He tasted like honey and sunshine, warm and golden, and I sighed into his mouth, feeling myself melt between them, surrounded and held and wanted.
Four hands on my body now. Sawyer's calloused fingers working the buttons of my shirt from behind, his breath hot against my neck, his teeth occasionally grazing my shoulder in a way that made me shiver. Kol's gentler touch tracing patterns on my stomach, my ribs, the undersides of my breasts through my bra. I was surrounded by them, drowning in their scents, their touches, their want.
"Too many clothes." Sawyer's voice was a growl against my ear, rough and impatient, his fingers finally freeing the last button and pushing my shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a whisper of fabric. "Need to see you. All of you."
