“Did you like the cinnamon buns?” I ask, trying to steady myself with small talk.
Something has changed here. Something charged.
Helena’s smile goes soft at the edges. “I did, thank you. Lucas is right; youdoknow exactly which I like best.”
Her smile draws me in far more than normal. It makes her whole face light up. It’s subtle, but even her pupils are a littlemore dilated than normal. I bet mine are too, given the thickness of her honey scent and the way it’s quickly turning every nerve ending on in my body.
Suddenly, it feels like there’s not enough air behind the counter.
Wait.
Helena’s flush isn’t just from the walk over. Or the presence of two of her alphas.
Zane must notice too. He leans a little closer to her, not quite possessive, but definitely staking a claim.
“Are you okay, Helena?” My voice cracks.Embarrassing as hell.
“Fine.” The word comes out breathy. “Just—” She gestures helplessly, fingers fluttering at her collarbone. “It’s a lot, suddenly.”
Her scent is a living thing now that fills every inch of the bakery and sticks to the back of my tongue.
Zane’s nostrils flare. His breathing moves slower. My hands are shaking. I want—fuck, I want her, but it’s not just that. It’s the pull of them both, the way every cell in my body is screaming to close the space.
Pack. Pack. Pack.
Zane speaks first, voice lower than I’ve ever heard it. “We should go.” But he doesn’t move an inch.
“Or,” Helena says, her voice silvery and soft, “we could stay.”
She looks at me when she says it—it’s my undoing. I round the counter, already untying my apron, and meet her halfway. The force of her scent is dizzying. It floods my head and makes me ache with need. She leans up and kisses me in soft but urgent waves. Her hands twine in my shirt.
Zane steps in behind her, one hand on her waist, anchoring her as she clings to me. She kisses him next, head tipped back to bare her throat. He accepts the invitation and kisses her pulsepoint. The sound she makes pulls at something low in my chest that I don’t have a polite name for.
We move to the storeroom. I can’t imagine making love to her in the middle of the retail floor. The three of us are a tangle of hands and mouths with no patience for slow or gentle. My shirt hits the tile. Helena’s dress pools around her ankles. Zane removes his own shirt with shaking hands.
Helena sinks to her knees and looks back up at us. She undoes Zane first. I watch her mouth wrap around him with glossy lips. Zane’s head tips back and he releases a ragged sound. I kneel behind her and bury my face in the crook of her neck. Her scent wipes my brain clean.
My hands slide up her thighs, where I find her already slick and ready. I work two fingers in, then thrust faster as she rocks back against my hand. She moans around Zane’s cock. He hisses through his teeth and wraps a hand in her hair.
“She’s perfect,” I whisper.
Zane grabs my shoulder, hard enough to bruise. “Don’t stop touching her,” he growls.
I don’t.
Helena’s breath goes ragged and then stops entirely as her whole body seizes into stillness. Then she breaks apart as she claws at my arm. She cums. Zane follows with a sound I feel more than hear, his rhythm against her mouth stuttering until he simply holds his cock inside her mouth.
She turns to me next. Her eyes are dark and unfocused, her mouth still wet. When she kisses me I taste the salt of Zane on her tongue, and something else beneath it that is just her. Helena pulls my cock toward her mouth and slides me inside like a sword into a sheath. The sound that leaves me is embarrassingly involuntary.
It doesn’t last long—I’m too wound up, too hungry for it. I cum with a rush and a harsh growl as I try my best not to thrustwith abandon into her throat. She holds me in her mouth until I can breathe again.
After, we collapse on the bags of flour, tangled together in a sticky, satisfied mess. Helena traces lazy circles on my chest, hair spilling across me like midnight.
No one says anything for a while, but the silence isn’t awkward. It’s comfortable, close—like the beach at low tide, when all the noise has pulled back, but you know it’ll return, fuller than before.
“You think Lucas will mind he missed out?” Helena asks, after a long pause.
I snort, and Zane actually cracks a smile. “He’ll be fine,” I say. “Next time, we’ll save him somethinghoney.”
