Then he slumped over us, cradling our swollen dicks to his face, mouth still open and tongue lashing out aimlessly.
I carefully moved my hand inside him, feeling him come in waves.
Monty closed his eyes. He sensed Laurel’s relief through the bond. As my mates relaxed, the pressure in my knot lessened too. I stilled my hand, keeping Laurel full. The warmth of his body felt incredible.
It seemed the heat would be ebbing from now on. That Laurel was able to stay empty for minutes during the wave was one sign. And the scent seemed to be weakening a little faster. Soon, we’d need to step out of our temporary shelter.
I could keep thinking about the probation, about Laurel’s life in the spotlight, and how it’d affect us, or about how Monty’s family would react to me being part of the package.
But I was too happy for any of that to weigh on me.
26
LAUREL
On the first day of my recovery, Jordy went to check on the pub and pick up fresh groceries on the way. It felt strange to see him leave, but I wasn’t panicking like I would have been during the heat. Besides, he promised he’d be back in two hours, tops.
Monty carried loads of laundry back and forth—we’d gone through quite a few sets of sheets and towels during my heat—and I picked up the guitar. My need to play must have built up because I didn’t mind sitting on my sore ass when I could touch the strings.
On the living room sofa with an extra pillow under my butt, I got into the flow and forgot about time. I was trying out the new song I’d come up with on my first night here, when I noticed both my men leaning against the wall by the stairs, listening. Jordy still had his jacket on, and Monty held an armful of blankets.
They looked a little stunned. I shrugged, smiling at them apologetically.
“Um, you okay with that?” I asked. Because it could be weird to have someone make a song about you, right? Especially if thousands of strangers might eventually hear it.
Monty sniffed, his grin wobbly. Jordy’s pierced eyebrow went up.
“Can you play that again?”
So I played the whole thing, as it was now firmly imprinted in my head, word for word. I couldn’t look at them, so I closed my eyes. When the last note faded, the room was eerily quiet. I carefully opened my eyes.
Jordy pushed off the wall, strode toward me, and took the guitar from me. Monty dropped the blankets into an armchair, knelt in front of me, and grabbed my hands in his. His eyes were brimming with tears. He looked so happy, and I knew it was because of me, but I didn’t know what to do with it.
“I think you cured my creative block,” I joked, but my voice broke.
After carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, Jordy sat by my side and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed my temple and whispered, “I love you, Laurel.”
Monty kissed my hands and laid his head on my thighs, sliding his arms around to hug my hips.
“Damn, Laurel,” he rasped, and took a shuddering breath.
Wrapped in both of them, my body relaxed, and I let out a long sigh. God, this was so fucking perfect. I still felt selfish and greedy, hogging these two men all to myself, but this was so right.
“I love you so much,” I whispered. “It’s crazy, right? I’m in a brand-new house, and we’ve barely been together for more than a week, but this is home.”
Jordy hummed. “Yeah.”
They shifted, their arms moving over my body, and I knew without looking that they were holding hands over my hip.
“You’re our home now,” Monty said.
It could have sounded scary. I’d been adrift for so long; how could I be someone’s home?
But it made perfect sense. I was their omega, and we were a family. Everything else was secondary.
Jordy had to go back to work on the second day of my recovery, and I missed him like crazy. Monty did, too. We clung to each other like two castaways on a float. The chalet seemed so quiet with just the two of us.
I took a long walk on Hunter’s recommendation, accompanying Monty as he went to check on the B&B, and the afternoon passed reasonably quickly.
