I need him.
All of them. I won’t be full, won’t be satiated, until each of these alphas are mine.
Rourke lowers his mouth to mine, but before his lips graze mine a warmth blossoms between my thighs, and I…
I wake up.
Because that was nothing but a dream. A sensual, sexy, haze-filled dream that, now that I’m awake and staring at the ceiling, I’m mortified of having. And what’s worse, I feel a slight throbbing between my legs, a telltale wetness that only means one thing.
Though my heart still pounds like crazy in my chest, I jerk to a sitting position and toss the covers off me. The early morning light shines in through the window, but I don’t need the sun to inform me of what happened.
No, the wetness between my thighs and that low, inner ache tells me enough.
I thought only guys had wet dreams, but there’s no denying the slick between my legs—a key sign when it comes to an omega’s arousal. We practically leak the stuff when we’re that worked up. I can’t say I’ve ever done this before; it’s new to me all around, and it’s exactly why I fall backward, groan, and bury my face in my hands.
If I pretend it’s not real, it’ll go away, won’t it?
Yeah, I wish that was true.
I replay that dream as my cheeks burn, and I wonder just why I had to dream of them. Is it because my heat is coming up and my inner omega is well aware she doesn’t have a match or a pack to help her through it? Is it just hormones?
Honestly, I’d be more okay if the whole thing was simply because of hormones that I cannot control. It’d be less mortifying than the opposite—if the dream and the slick aren’t because of my hormones going crazy, then they’re due to the fact that I like the three alphas under this roof.
More than like them. Iwantthem.
But that can’t be, can it? This is only happening because I didn’t want a match, because I didn’t want any alphas. I don’t need them. That much hasn’t changed.
But I’m not stupid. A want and a need are two totally separate things.
I sluggishly pull up the covers as I struggle to get my breathing under control. It figures I’d be stuck in a house in the middle of nowhere with three alphas who apparently make myinner beast lose her damn mind. I didn’t doubt myself before, I knew I could make it through my heat alone, but now…
Now things are getting blurry, complicated, and I’m finding myself worried I won’t want to be alone when the time comes.
Crap. This totally sucks.
I lay there for an unspecified amount of time, wishing I wasn’t in the mess I’m in, wishing I was, you know, normal. All the stuff I’ve wished for countless of times growing up these last ten years, only now the weight of it all is so much heavier than it’s ever been.
Have I mentioned lately this sucks ass? Because it does. It really, really does.
I don’t know how much time passes before I hear a knock on my door. The sound of that knock jerks me back to reality—if anyone comes in here right now, it will be obvious I slicked. They’ll be able to smell it instantly, from the moment they open that door.
“Don’t come in!” I shout as loud as I can once I hear the first signs of the person in the hall turning the doorknob. “I’m…” I can’t think of anything to say to stop whoever it is from entering the room, other than one thing. “…naked.”
I’m naked.Yeah, that’ll stop them from coming in, but it’ll also get the wheels in their heads turning. Probably not the best thing to have said to whoever it is, but apparently I’m not that great at thinking up things on the spot.
With the thickness of that door, I should be grateful the alpha in the hall hears me and stops. “Oh.” He has to pretty much yell his response back, “I was just coming to see what you’d like for breakfast.”
Come to think of it, I am starving. Turns out having a dream like that really gets your body going, but I can’t exactly roll out of bed and stroll into the kitchen with the pajamas I’m wearing, not with the slick dampening them. I need to shower and change.
So I shout, “I’m good,” even though I’m really not.
Asher being Asher, he doesn’t take that for an answer. He says loudly, “I’ll make some extra pancakes for you, in case you change your mind.” Thankfully he leaves me be after that, and once I’m sure he’s gone, I roll out of bed and rush to the door, hitting the lock and giving me some semblance of security.
I lean my back on the door, breathing hard as I wonder just why Asher has to be so freaking nice. Things would be easier if he was cold to me, if he pretended I didn’t exist, just like he did when we were kids. This nice alpha thing is getting to me.
Then again, Mason is cold and he still had a starring role in my dream. I wanted both him and Asher equally.
And Rourke? Let’s not even go there. I knew the über alpha was attractive from the moment I first saw him, but I didn’t think his good looks had had quite that strong of an effect on me. Guess I was wrong.
