And the sound is enough to shock me out of the moment.
I pull back, and Thayer follows with a growl, nipping at my bottom lip gently, before kissing the sting with a soft press of his mouth. His hands release me and I do the same, albeit reluctantly. I want to go on kissing him, tasting him. But then I’m turning to Courtland, the last member of the pack, waiting patiently.
My hands slide up his chest, and I suppress the urge to murmur ‘pretty boy’ to him. His hands move to my hips, pulling me in as he bends down with unerring accuracy until his lips brush mine. Not the other way around.
“Pix,” Court breathes against my mouth, even though they aren’t supposed to know who I am, who it is that’s kissing them.“Finally.” And then his hand is threading through my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me like he means it.
I melt into him. Into his mouth, the heat of his body. He makes a little hungry noise that goes right to my clit, and when his hand slides down to cup my ass, I’m a little worried he might feel how wet I am, from just a few kisses from his pack.
His mouth devours mine, and I’m right there with him, devouring him back. Just like we did last night while stretched out on my bed. Kissing and kissing and kissing. I get lost in him, in the taste of him, the feel of his sun warmed skin under my palms, his silky black hair tangled around my fingers.
Someone clears their throat, pointedly.
Another voice mutters, “maul him much?”
Tristan singsongs, “don’t be jealous just because they kissed you like they were kissing their grandmothers.”
Court and I laugh against each other’s mouths before I pull back. The tips of my fingers brush over his chest, resting for a moment over his thundering heart before I step down from the box and retreat.
I move on wobbly legs to stand next to Petal, ready with chalk dusty fingers to record my scores.
“Okay, gentlemen, time to rate the most recent round of kisses,” Cleo says. “Grieves?”
There’s a pause, a moment when he tightens his jaw so hard I’m worried he’s going to break a tooth, and then he growls out. “Six. It was… a little rough around the edges.”
Rough around the edges?What the fuck?
Cleo’s brows arch like she’s as surprised as I am by that. “Okay. Six. Forsythe?”
No hesitation on the part of the prince. “Four. It felt as though she was trying to force it.” Now the apology in his kiss makes sense.
The scratch of the chalk on the board makes my shoulders shrink. The sound of Isadora and her sycophants’ laughter makes it worse.
“Thayer?” Cleo asks.
“Five. It was nice, but perhaps a little over enthusiastic.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from bursting into tears. It's all part of the show. I know it. They’ve already determined that I’m not the omega for them even if the way they kissed me didn’t feel like that.
But this just seems unnecessarily cruel. Calling what we just did sloppy and me over eager? What do they gain from that, but to make me into a joke? To add fuel to an already smoldering Florence-isn’t-worth-our-time fire?
Why am I still even here?
That thought hits hard and fast as Courtland turns his face toward me, still blindfolded, but like he knows that’s where I am. Like he can feel me. I think of his whispered,‘finally’,the clench of his hand in my hair and surely—surely—he’s going to give me a good score. Surely…
“Five.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips like he’s tasting me there. “It was… unpolished. Midrange.”
My stomach lurches. On the heels of what we did last night, his dismissal hits like a slap. And my cheeks burn like it too.
Off to the side I see Piers standing with his arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowed at his pack, before he looks at me, the apology in his eyes evident. I am eternally grateful that the alphas of his pack can’t see my reaction, even if everyone else can.
I shuffle over to stand next to Tristan who laces his fingers through mine, giving them a squeeze. “Ignore them,” he whispers to me as Odette hisses something to Isadora, who drawls something back, that I can’t make out, but by the glancespassed between the production crew the microphone picks up. I’m sure that will be a good bit of drama.
Keeping that in mind, that my reactions and every word I say will be broadcast internationally is just about the only reason I don’t collapse entirely.
It was foolish of me to forget, even for a moment who these alphas are and more importantly who I amnot.
I am good enough to touch when the cameras aren’t running. A secret little shame. A guilty pleasure.
