She uses one knuckle to nudge my chin up further, then slowly bends down while maintaining eye contact, only to pull me into the most devouring, possessive kiss she’s ever givenme. I squeak into her mouth, and she grins against me, then kisses me again, and again, and again.
Finally, after nipping at my bottom lip, she pulls back.
“I think she likes it,” Riley whispers loudly, and I can’t contain my grin.
“He’s understating it, Sweetling,” Vee says, smoothing a lock of hair between her fingers. “I’m obsessed.”
We pile into Brooks’s work truck, as it’s the only vehicle we have that is comfortable for both of our tall alphas, and Riley pops his head up from the backseat to catch his own reflection in the mirror.
“I need to redo my blue,” he says, running a hand through his trimmed hair.
“You do it yourself?” I ask.
“Yep, why?” He turns to me. “You want some color in yours?”
I hadn’t thought of that, but my eyes light up at the idea.
“I can do that?”
“Course you can,” he says.
My hair is purple.
MY HAIR IS PURPLE.
I want to scream it from the rooftop, but I manage to contain my excitement to inside the house. Riley carefully combed purple into my locks, then told me to sit tight while he added blue to his. I yelped when he had me tip my head over the tub so he could rinse it with shockingly cold water, but he says it helps lock in the color better.
I don’t know if I believe him, and he could have warned me first, but I wasn’t about to fight him on it. After he blow-dries it for me, I feel like a new woman.
I sprint down the stairs in search of our alphas, careening around the corner to find Brooks in the kitchen.
“I have purple hair!” I screech.
He jumps about a mile, then spins around with one hand to his chest. He blinks at me, taking in my new look. I put on some of the new clothes Riley and I bought before my heat: a tight, knit black top with no sleeves tucked into short denim shorts. Both items I never would have been able to consider a few months ago.
“Not sure why I’m bothering to cook,” Brooks growls, stalking toward me. “I’d much rather eat you.”
I shriek as he hauls me off my feet and into his arms, laughing when he nibbles along my bare shoulder and up my neck. He sets me on the counter, stepping between my spread thighs, but before he can get started on whatever he was thinking, the front door slams.
“What’s all the hollering about?” Vee says from the front hallway, and I twist my upper body around.
“I have purple hair!”
She rounds the corner with a grin on her face.
“So you do,” she says, sauntering up to us and leaning against the counter beside me. “You’re also on the counter, looking entirely too edible. Did I interrupt something?”
“Yes,” Brooks grumbles, turning back to the pan on the stove.
I shrug and hop off the counter, taking the hand Vee offers me. She holds it up, twisting me into a spin, and then pulls me against her.
“Somehow even more gorgeous than you were yesterday,” she says, dropping a kiss to my upturned lips.
Riley wanders in, toweling off his wet, bright blue hair.
“Purple suits her, huh?” he says, a smug grin on his face.
He did a great job, and suddenly I want a picture. I want to remember this moment, this past week, forever.
