Different from how I’d say it. He’s gentle and guiding. I’d be commanding, asking her to scream for me. Brody coaxes, invites, draws the response out with patience. And I realize she responds differently to each of us. That’s the part that destroysme, the way her body speaks a different language with every Alpha and means every word.
He works into her quicker now, and camera two gives me the side angle, his hand between her thighs, her head tipping back, her fingers white-knuckled. Her mouth falls open, and the cries she releases escalate into moans. They pour through the speakers and into the studio, where I’m gripping the arms of this chair hard enough to bend metal.
“God, Claire,” I breathe. My hand presses against the ache behind my zipper. Every nerve is firing, oriented toward the woman on the screen whose body is climbing toward release.
I waste no time tugging my jeans open, pushing them down my hips. My cock springs out, dripping already, and I palm it, squeezing tight, imagining it being her delicious pussy.
Brody pushes a third finger into Claire, and she’s writhing, dripping wet from so much slick. I’d go out there, but I don’t want to ruin this perfect moment when she’s so close to coming. Besides, seeing how wide Brody can get her, his fingers thrusting into her, stretching her, is an image I’ll never unsee.
I’ll be jerking off to it for years.
She’s loud, our pretty Omega, wriggling, when she finally screams, and I quickly turn down my volume. With my other hand, I’m beating myself off, eyes glued to the screen, to her pussy sucking down on Brody’s fingers, her hips jerking. I suddenly shudder, my balls tight, and I frantically grab tissues and catch the explosion bursting out like a cannon.
Eyes shut, I ride the wave, hips jerking as so much pours out.
A growl rolls through my chest as I open my eyes and notice that Brody already has Claire on her feet, facing away from him, bent over, and he’s ramming into her. I laugh because we’re no different. Since the heat, all three of us have been starving for more of Claire, unable to settle down.
I watch for a few more moments, loving how she grips the edge of the island as Brody slaps into her, her body thrusting back and forth.
My pulse is hammering, and I switch off the cameras, giving them some privacy, though I doubt that’s what Brody wants. Regardless, I decide to carve up the video because the one with Claire and Brody turning our taping into a sex video is something I’ll be saving and cherishing.
I get to work, even if I can hear them groaning through the house from the kitchen.
I grin to myself, knowing that tonight, that’s going to be me with Claire.
26
CLAIRE
“Iwant to be honest with you because I’m terrible at hiding things, and it’s eating me alive,” Trudy says, stopping on the sidewalk alongside me.
Mistberry Cove stretches around us, the main street quiet in late morning sun, storefronts painted in faded coastal blues, window boxes spilling geraniums onto the pavement. A bakery two doors down is pumping out the smell of sourdough, and my stomach growls because I skipped breakfast, which was dumb, but Brody was in my kitchen, shirtless, making waffles for a video, and I had to leave before I climbed him in front of Trudy.
She turns to face me, presses her hand flat against her chest, and her eyes are fiercer than I’ve seen them.
“I came here hoping the three guys were still without an Omega, hoping they’d take me back. That’s the truth and I’m done pretending.”
My breath catches. The jealousy, that feral creature I’ve been starving and feeding in cycles for days, sinks its teeth into my ribs. “Okay,” I say, because silence would be worse.
“But, Claire, I swear to God.” Her hand pushes harder against her chest. “I had no idea you existed. The second I saw theway they were with you, the second Jakob said you were their Omega, I knew they weren’t mine.”
I shove my hands into my jacket pockets because if they’re free, they’ll shake. The morning breeze carries salt off the harbor and the faint clink of rigging from the fishing boats, and I focus on those sounds while my heartbeat settles.
“That took guts to say,” I tell her. “Thanks for being honest.”
She half laughs, her gaze dropping. “It was stupid to come at all.” She starts moving again, and I fall into step beside her, our boots scuffing the pavement. “Kristian was especially vicious that morning. Told me bonding with me was the biggest regret of his life. Said it over his coffee, casually, as if he was commenting on the weather.”
“He said that to your face?”
“With a smile.”
“He’s a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, one hundred percent.” She pushes a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “He stormed out after, and I was sitting on the kitchen floor crying, and my iPad was on the counter playing one of Brody’s videos. I don’t even know how it opened. Auto-play from my history, probably, because I used to watch them obsessively after I left the pack.” She grimaces. “Torturing myself. Real healthy coping.” She half chuckles.
“Been there. Different videos, same spiral.”
“I took it as a sign. The universe pointing me somewhere safe.” Her mouth twists. “Turns out the universe was just auto-playing my algorithm. Not exactly divine intervention.”
