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C A M D E N
Despite the wildfire and the ruined tent, I’m having an amazing day. Hell, I’m practically whistling while we stroll through the forest. Memphis might be sulking ahead of me, but I refuse to let it ruin my good mood.
I love a challenge. It’s what made me so obsessed with beating my own record surviving in the wilderness. I didn’t go on Alone Extreme for the cash prize—I went to see how long I could make it by myself. I’d never dealt with insane cold and hunger like I did in the Alaskan wilderness. When the producers came to tell me I won, I almost wanted to ask them to leave me out there a little longer, just to see if I could make it another few weeks. There’s nothing that satisfies me more than facing an obstacle that feels impossible and knowing I overcame it.
Today, I’ve had plenty to satisfy me.
In under 24 hours, I’ve tracked a missing Omega, escaped a wildfire, and saved Memphis from death-by-spear. Frankly, I think I accomplished them all beautifully. I’m almost excited to see what we’re facing next. The rain’s getting progressively heavier, but it can’t kill my mood. Especially not after I got to knot Brooklyn today. She was so beautiful, so responsive underneath me.
Lost in my thoughts, I practically trip over the wild garlic before I even notice it. I’m supposed to be tracking down the herbs to calm down Brooklyn’s heat. Fuck, I can’t afford to be daydreaming when her safety’s at stake.
But I can’t help it.
While I pick the garlic, my head’s full of memories of how it felt to have Brooklyn underneath me. She was so beautiful, my tiny little Omega. She fit so perfectly around me, it’s like my cock was made just to fill her. I loved the feeling of her small body under mine, but watching her ride me was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen. Some primal part of me wanted to leave marks on her, love bites and bruised fingerprints. So anyone who saw her would know I’d been there first. Leaving no questions who she belonged to.
I’ve never come inside a woman before. We’ve always used condoms, even when my partner was on birth control. Fuck, it turns me on to think that even now, Brooklyn has my seed inside her. It’s like I’ve marked her—made her mine somehow. She might be with Denver, but she’s got my scent all over her.
My foot catches on a root, and I slam to the ground, hands and knees in the mud. Memphis only looks back to make sure I’m okay. When it’s clear my only ailment is clumsiness, he ignores me and strides forward. Clearly, his bad mood is still hanging over him.
I get to my feet and wipe my muddy hands on a mossy rock. I’m careful walking now, hoping to avoid another embarrassing fall. Every plant we pass, I identify it as quickly as I can, hoping I can find the remaining herbs on my list.
Finally, I find something I’m looking for. Score—a willow tree. I pull out my multitool so I can scrape off some of the bark. The tree’s old and huge, its thickly-leaved branches offering some respite from the rain.
“Come on in!” I call out to Memphis. “It’s pretty dry here, get a break from the rain.”
I carve off generous lengths of willow bark. We don’t know how long Brooklyn’s heat will keep going, and it’s better safe than sorry. When I’m satisfied, I turn away and finally get a good look at Memphis.
He’s in rough shape. His eyes are unfocused, strong hands trembling. His face is flushed, even after being doused in freezing rain. Under his cargo pants, I can see his hard cock pressing against the fabric.
After he knotted Brooklyn earlier today, he seemed calm. He clearly didn’t like leaving without her, but he took Denver’s orders well enough. But he’s got her scent all over him, and his body’s obviously going into a rut, being so far away. His Alpha instincts are demanding he take her, but she’s gone.
Fuck, I can’t bring Memphis back to Brooklyn like this. He was barely able to hold back with her before—next time he sees her, no way he’ll be able to fight his instincts. He’ll have her on the ground, his cock buried inside her before she can even speak. She might have welcomed his knot this morning, but if her heat’s over, she might not want to fuck him again.
I have to figure out how to help him hold off a rut. There are herbs, but there’s also the simplest option—help him relieve the tension myself. I’ve always said, the simplest option is usually the best.
“You don’t look so good,” I say gently. “I can tell, being away from her is hard.”
Memphis doesn’t bother denying it, but he still tries to minimize it. “It’s fine,” he says. “I can handle it.”
“Still. I could help you out, Memphis.” I take a step toward him, keeping my expression open. “It doesn’t have to mean anything—a mouth is a mouth. It might keep you from going into a rut.”
He glances sharply at me, but he doesn’t seem angry. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he says.
“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” I shrug. “I’ve done it before, a few times in college. I hear I’m pretty good at it. It’ll be better than your own hand and we both know that a hand doesn’t cut it for a rut.”
Memphis looks skeptical. Really, knotting an Omega is what we need if it gets that far, but this could stave it off a while longer. Make him a little more agreeable by the time we return to Denver and Brooklyn.
“No offense, Cam, but you’re not an Omega. You’re not what I’m craving right now. Besides, I’ve never…”
“But I smell like her.” It’s true—Brooklyn’s wildflower scent clings to my clothes, and I’ve been enjoying even the remnants of her all day. “Close your eyes. Pretend it’s her, not me.”
“I don’t know.” Memphis frowns, but his hand moves reflexively to press against his erection. I can tell he wants my mouth on his cock, but he’s never going to make the move. He’s got this distorted sense of honor holding him back. I might be the one going to my knees, but he needs me to take the lead.
I saunter right to him, our eyes glued to each other’s. He doesn’t look away when I reach between us to undo his belt. His rich brown eyes stay on me, egging me on. I’m a little rough when I force the button of his cargo pants open, unzipping them and shoving his pants and underwear down so his cock springs free. I only break our eye contact so I can check out what I’m working with.
Fuck, Memphis’s cock is a thing of beauty. It’s hard and girthy, with veins and ridges I want to trace with my tongue. As much as he’s denying his own desire, his body can’t lie about how it feels—his cock is fully hard for me.
