Page 57 of The Rogues

“At the end of the day,” I start, running my thumb over her palm. “You just met us. You’ve been Cleo’s friend for a long time, and I know more than anyone what that means. I just wish I could make it easier for you.”

“You are. Just by being here, by being supportive.” Her eyes look glossy as she smiles. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say it again,” I tell her. “I forgive you. You are safe. That’s all that matters.”

She relaxes a little bit more and then huffs out a laugh. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to be the kind of person to send me suggestive texts.”

Despite my earlier tenacity, my cheeks flush. “I’m usually not,” I admit. “But the way you looked in the bar earlier, I… God, I must have had one of those alpha moments, huh? I wanted you to see me.”

Josie’s eyes look me over, telling me everything I need to know by the twinkle in her gaze. “I have always seen you. But now I guess I just have a better view.”

“Did you like the better view?” I ask, nervous.

She nods, and my stomach somersaults.

“Do you pose like that for the guys?” she asks, her lips twisted into a cheeky grin. “Like, for Malaki and Cyrus. Do you ever… send them naughty pictures?”

I pull my lip between my teeth. “I do. In fact, their tastes are… very specific, so I try to cater to that.”

She takes the bait and intrigue flashes in her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Well, I can show you,” I offer.

She stalls, and her perfume spills into the space between us. I inhale it—every ounce of excitement and nervousness as her perfume blooms at the prospect of seeing the sexy photos I send to my mates. I try to stifle a groan, but it catches in my throat, the sound gritty as it escapes.

I never thought I’d have such a visceral reaction to an omega. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe this could happen to me.

I have never been so happy to be so wrong.

“When I take pictures by myself, I normally use my phone. But Cyrus and Malaki have taken pictures of me, too. They have a polaroid collection meant for their eyes only.”

“Fuck,” she says, just barely above a whisper. I don’t think she means for me to hear it, so I take my phone out and pull up the app I use for hidden pictures. The ones I took for her earlier are the first ones to show, and her breath hitches when she sees them again.

I scroll a bit, coming across the ones Cyrus took of me a few weeks ago. “Both of my alphas are very different, but also the same. Cyrus likes to take pictures of me when I’m tied up.”

“When you’re tied up?” she asks, her cheeks flushing.

“Yes, I… I like being tied up. It helps me get out of my head. And I trust them to take care of me. It’s the most freeing I’ve ever felt.”

Her eyes widen, absorbed by the fantasy.

I pull up the first picture; I’m blindfolded, the rope wrapped around me in a box tie. He had me kneel while he took pictures of me, unable to see anything. My cock hangs heavy between my legs, and even now as I look back at it, I can feel the desperation that thrummed under my skin in that moment. Waiting, pondering. Wondering when my alpha was finally going to make his move.

Josie gawks at it. “Shit.” She scrolls to the next picture, where Cyrus is above me, his thumb touching my bottom lip as my mouth gapes open. “These are… fucking hot.”

I flush a little before I keep scrolling. This time, I’m in front of a mirror, my chest peeking out from a ripped denim jacket, my unmentionables hidden by the counter.

“Malaki likes when I pose or take nudes in his clothes,” I tell her, scrolling to the one I know is next, where my hand is wrapped around myself, my face partially hidden behind the phone. “He likes to know I’m wearing his scent and thinking about him, even when he’s not there to pleasure me.”

Josie’s chest rises and falls. She is quiet, but I can feel the energy pulsing hastily. A part of me thinks something must be wrong, but then her champagne scent bursts, arousal lacing the usually bubbly notes.

Holy fuck, she’s turned on.

I move on to my favorite set of photos, the ones that my alphas take to send to each other. “They both like to take photos of me when the other isn’t around. Cyrus will send Malaki a picture if he’s out doing something and vice versa. I think they’re my favorite, because I love when they coordinate with each other, love that they are conscious of the other when they are pleasuring me.”

The photo that shows up now is one of Cyrus fucking me. It’s explicit, and was probably dangerous for him to take, but I can’t bring myself to care about that. My head is thrown back, my hands gripping the blankets. It captures his cock inside me, my own sitting untouched on my stomach. This is one that I hold dear, one that I wish I could print out and keep in my pocket forever.

I laugh. “Cyrus sent this one to Malaki. I hadn’t even come by the time Malaki burst through the door.”