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The door chimes.
I curse.
Quickly, I do the rest of the series—another set of three to the right, and then to the left, clockwise, anti-clockwise, counting inside my head…
And then the identity of the three men who have just walked into my café finally registers.
Shit.
The rag drops from my hand to the floor, and I crouch down to retrieve it. My hands are shaking. My whole body is shaking. I put the rag under the faucet, add more antiseptic, as they walk toward me. I can see them out of the corner of my eye, while I pretend to focus on my business.
I wring the rag out, place it by the sink, and take a bracing breath.
The McGraw Pack. The pack I walked into yesterday and who I jacked off all night over.
Figures they’d come in now that I sent Bee home and I’m all alone here.
And what? Are they going to attack you? Man up.
Ha. I wipe my sweaty palms down my pants and swallow past a throat gone dry. Easy to say. But maybe they won’t bring it up. Maybe?—
“Hey, man.” Grinning, Roman comes right up to the bar and folds his arms on it. “Did you enjoy the little peep show last night?”
Fuck. Scorching heat rises to my neck, seeping into my face. “I, uh…”
“That had better be a yes.” Roman clucks his tongue. “Or are you implying that our performance wasn’t up to par? That we weren’t hot as fuck?”
“You were.” I swallow hard. “I mean. Yeah.”
“Hot?”
“Fucking hot,” I admit. I glance at the two alphas who are dragging stools out to sit. “Sorry I did that. I walked into the office and I wasn’t expecting…”
“To find us fucking,” Archer says, his voice betraying nothing.
“Well, technically,” I say, “you weren’t.”
“Fucking? Another night, you might have had the pleasure of seeing us doing the deed,” Roman winks.
I gulp. My dick is hardening. I just can’t help it around them, can’t stop my body from reacting. They keep talking about fucking, about me watching them, and they smell so delicious it should be damn illegal.
I want to be a part of that scene. I want to lick their cocks like lollipops, rub all over their skin like a needy tomcat, I want… so much.
So much more than I’ve ever wanted with the pack my parents set me up with.
The pack still waiting for my reply.
Fuck!
“What’s wrong?” Archer has propped his elbow on the bar and his biceps bulge deliciously.
Everything is delicious about these guys.
“Nothing,” I mutter. “Can I get you something?”
“We’re not here for a coffee,” Kyrian snaps, “we’re here to?—”
“Coffee would be nice.” Roman leans back to elbow Kyrian in the side. “Right, guys? What are you having, Ky?”
