Everlyn raises one brow, watching the table like a cat with an intriguing toy, loving every second of this awkwardness.
“Morning, boys,” she says sweetly, kicking me under the table. “Halley was just telling me how well she slept.”
“Sleep? Don’t remember much of that happening,” Blaze laughs, and when I snap a glare at him, he winks like the smug bastard he is.
It’s not that I regret what we did.
Frack, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever done in mylife, no question, but now that my O-space has faded and my inhibitions are back, I can’t meet their eyes without blushing.
We’re sitting here in the mess hall like we didn’t just fundamentally alter the fabric of our Pack.
Sex has always been a complicated issue between me and Scorch Squad.
We all wanted it. Badly.
That line between military discipline and the raw, biological desire wired into our designations was never supposed to be crossed. We danced around it. Indulged and then darted away like scared little bunnies.
But now we’ve crossed that line. More than that, we erased the line altogether. And the sky didn’t fall. The ground didn’t shatter.
Still, we’re in unfamiliar territory now, and I have no idea where it leads.
Everlyn’s cackle slices through my thoughts. “I thought you’d make them work for it a little longer. Jason just won a bet he’ll definitely be cashing in tonight.”
Jason doesn’t look up from his eggs, but the tips of his ears go red, and there’s a smug little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
I hope Everlyn knows I’m going to tease her without mercy if she comes to breakfast tomorrow with a limp.
We walk back from the mess hall as a Pack, and I smile to myself.
“Was it just me,” Viper says, cocking an eyebrow, “or did breakfast taste better today?”
I know what he means. Everything feelsmorethis morning, the bitterness of my coffee, the brush of leather against my gland, the way Viper’s shoulder keeps bumping mine like we’re magnetized.
Shade hums low, amused. “You mean because it wasn’t served with a side of repressed desire and tactical denial?”
“I meant the eggs,” Viper says innocently, but his grin ruins the act. “But sure, we can talk about that too.”
Blaze stretches both arms behind his head, flexing on purpose. “Personally, I think our girl’s slick tastes better than anything else. I’d rather eat her slick every day than ever have another meal.”
“You’re disgusting,” I mutter, but I can’t stop smiling.
“Careful,” Shade murmurs at my other side. “He might start composing a poem about your pussy again.”
“A poem? And wait, what do you meanagain?”
It’s too late, Blaze has launched into a recitation of a truly terrible and unsurprisingly explicit poem.
“A is for the Alpha who made you moan last night. B is for the bite mark I want to put on your tit. C is for—”
“C is forcan it,” Viper interrupts, jabbing him in the ribs.
He yelps, laughs, then spins around to walk backward in front of us, grinning lazily, his eyes glinting.
“And D is for—”
“Dangerouslyclose to losing nest privileges,” I cut in, but the warmth in my voice betrays me.
Blaze whistles low. “Ruthless. I like it.”
