West swallows, his fingers curling into fists at his sides like he’s trying to keep himself from reaching for her. “Ash…”
Her eyes flick to him, then to me, then to the others. “What?” she challenges, arching a brow. “You’re going to sit there and pretend like none of you want this too? Like you don’t already feel my heat coming and it isn’t making you crazy?”
I exhale slowly, gripping the armrest of the chair just to keep myself from crossing the space between us. My blood is hot, my skin buzzing, and all of it has to do with her words. They echo in my head. I want this. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Xayden moves first. He unfolds from the couch and crosses the room to her. “We’ve been going crazy long before you were going into heat, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” she breathes, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.
“Yeah,” he confirms. He traces his thumb over her jawline and tilts her head up even further before he kisses her.
The action has the rest of us reacting—moving.
I’m on my feet before I even realize it, the pulse in my veins thrumming like a damn bass line.
Xayden’s mouth moves against hers, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of her, and Ashlyn melts intohim, her hands curling into his shirt. Her scent spikes—sweet, intoxicating, wrapping around all of us like a tether we’re powerless to fight.
Jake exhales, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to be the rational one, but even he’s watching too intently, his breathing uneven.
West is rigid, his jaw clenched, hands flexing at his sides. But his eyes are locked on Ash like he’s memorizing every second.
I take a step closer, drawn in by the pure need radiating off her, off all of us. The waiting, the restraint—it’s unraveling, thread by thread.
Xayden pulls back first, his thumb tracing her lower lip, his voice rough. “Still think we’re waiting?”
Ash sways slightly, her breath shaky, pupils blown wide. She turns her head just enough to catch my gaze, and fuck—I can’t hold back.
In two strides, I’m there, fingers brushing her cheek before I tilt her face up to mine. Her lips are still parted, still soft from Xayden’s kiss, and when I close the distance, she meets me halfway.
It’s different. I kiss her slower, deeper, letting her feel every damn thing I haven’t said out loud. Her fingers skim up my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt, and the quiet sound she makes in the back of her throat sends a shiver down my spine.
The air shifts again, electric.
Jake moves in next, standing at her back, his body close but not touching—waiting for her to turn to him.
And she does.
She leans into him, her head tilting as his hands find her hips, his chest pressing warm and solid against her back.
West is the last one standing still, but not for long.
Ashlyn glances at him, her lips swollen, her breathing uneven, and something in him snaps.
West kisses her like he’s reclaiming something lost—something stolen by time, by mistakes, by all the years they spent apart. His hands frame her face, strong but reverent, as if he’s trying to tell her everything he never said before. And she melts into it, her body surrendering, her hands sliding up his chest like she’s been waiting just as long.
Xayden’s still close, his breath warm against her neck, watching with something smug and satisfied. “Took you long enough,” he murmurs.
Jake chuckles low, his hands firm on her waist. “He always did overthink things.”
Ash pulls back from West first, her breath uneven, eyes shining. She looks at each of us, taking us in, and there’s no doubt in my mind—she wants this as much as we do.
“This is how it’s supposed to be,” I murmur, my voice rough with emotion.
Her lips part, something unspoken lingering in her gaze.
“All of us,” West adds, his thumb still tracing slow circles against her skin.
Together.
