He rolls his beautiful blue eyes at my unwillingness to jump up and race to him, and even before I can climb to my feet, which is what I was going to do, he moves first and closes the distance between us. Muting the call he’s on, he slams his lips to mine, kissing me long and hard. He seriously leaves my head spinning as he swipes his thumb over my bottom lip, staring deeply into my eyes. “Il mio tutto.”
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah. Hang on, let me finish this call.” He slides on the floor and rests his head against the kitchen cabinets as he talks in a mix of Italian and English. I go to climb up, to start getting some food together, but he grabs my arm, holding me in place by lifting his arm and cuddling into me. Damn sneaky Alpha.
I talk quietly to the dogs. They’re ready for some playtime, and Edward races off to find a toy as soon as I release him from being on active protective duty. He returns with three balls jammed in his mouth, looking like a chipmunk, and Dante flips the call to mute again before taking a couple of photos at how silly the dog looks before getting all serious talking shop again.
He's flipping and flopping between being an Alpha and being a sweetie, exactly like my heart is doing.
I get a lapful of balls, and Bella and Edward brace for fun. As I throw balls in all directions, the two of them scatter, the noise of their nails on the timber flooring making me grimace, but I figure Pack De Luca has enough money to get the floors sanded if need. The sentiment is confirmed when the dogs disappear down the long corridor before they tear out of it, being chased by both Matteo and Valentine.
It’s not hard to imagine this is us; it’s just hard to believe sometimes. But that’s what tonight is about. Reaching up for a quick peck, I stand and leave Dante on the kitchen floor with the other two wearing out the dogs while I search the fridge and the freezer for ingredients.
Since their kitchen is state of the art, it’s no surprise that I find everything I need. Choosing some steak as big as my head, I start seasoning and preparing a salad and baked potatoes—comfort food necessities.
“You want me to cook that for you?” Valentine curls behind me, smelling divine after his shower. Nothing like the stressed and angry Alpha from before.
“I want us to stay together, so long as you can grill in here, yes, please. Otherwise, I’ll manage.”
He stays behind me, using his feet under mine until I’m in front of the stove. He disappears for a moment, then reappears with a huge hot plate that he slides over the gas burners on the stove. When he presses a button, the stainless steel range hood drops a couple of feet.
Matteo is the last to join, looking as casual as the others. And seeing these men out of their suits is bad for my intention of spilling secrets. Hot damn, I want to put the food away and spend the night with my hands in their pants and on their bodies. The way they flip my switch so easily has me running off on a tangent in my head. I start sorting through everything I know about being an Omega, like having heats. It’s kind oflike getting one tiny cramp in your tummy, and all of a sudden, you’re calculating when you ovulated last.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I growl, twisting in Valentine’s tender hold. The three of them stay in my line of sight, so I can see the impact on their faces when I drop my latest little bomb. “I think I’m on the edge of a heat.”
And then they throw me with their reactions, pretty much mirroring each other. Nothing but pure lust burns in their eyes, and the kitchen feels like a steam room with the near choking combined scent of them—affogato.
I flick the exhaust fan to high, so I don’t slide right into the next phase.
Valentine takes charge, locking up his scent the fastest, but also picking me up and carrying me over to a kitchen stool, which he then carries back to where I was. Then he checks the temperature of the griddle, pokes the potatoes to see how close they are, and finishes dressing the salad.
“I’m not an invalid,” I grouse.
“Better to save your energy, though. No shit, the things I want to do to you, Layne…you’ll need every opportunity to store your energy. Plus, this way, we can talk at the same time. How long do we have until your heat hits?”
“How annoyed will you be if I say we might have to postpone our wedding reception? Or I can take some tabs and delay it until after. Before you say no, we need to think through it, because there is still time to stop the cycle and it wouldn’t hurt me in the least.”
No one says anything to that, which probably means I hit a note.
“Okay, let’s start back at today before we make decisions about your heat. Once everything is on the table, then we decide,” Matteo says, sliding over an open beer. “Or you dodecide because you know we will back you up whatever you want to do.”
He walks past me, opening one of the balcony doors before he stands out on the covered patio and lights a cigarette. I look at him, shocked as hell.
“Sorry. Bad habit.”
My phone pings, and Dante slides it over the counter before following Matteo outside, looking a little guilty too. He sits down on the large outdoor lounge and opens a drawer, pulling out his stash, by the looks.
“House is locked up tight. Everything is done. I’m getting wasted as fuck while I listen to my wife explain how she knows Diego and Rosa, and then lets us know what she’s currently reading on her phone. We’re eating, then going to bed.”
“You have the whole night planned, huh?”
“And the morning. I’m planning on sliding inside your pussy before the sun hits the horizon.”
“All right, I’m talking fast, so make sure you listen. You keep talking booty calls, and I’ll be in heat tomorrow instead of the end of the week!”
“It’s only affecting you because you love my idea so much,” Dante teases before lighting up and taking a deep hit of the joint.
He waves me over, and I’m tempted, but if I have one puff, I’ll end up on his lap, eating M&M’s and gummy worms, talking about either philosophy or the virtues of feathers at a burlesque show for hours.
