AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And she smiles.
It’s bullshit. How come, when he barks at her, she’s all wide eyes and eager nods and “yes, Alpha”? But for me she’s all sass and glares and waving her sexy little body in my face like a banner that reads, See what you’re missing, jackass?
Archer leads our group toward some boutique. We’ve already hit two furniture stores. Meg seemed to do everything in her power to avoid actually choosing shit, constantly demurring or deferring to the rest of us.
She eventually gave in, but goddamn. I thought my eyes might get stuck in my skull for all the eye-rolling I did. Surely, this should be simpler. She’s our scent-match. Our mate.
For fuck’s sake, girl, just pick a dresser.
I swear, if she pulls the same shit shopping for clothes, I’m doing it for her.
Actually, she might look particularly good in that leather jacket. Or the matching pants.
I hate that I know that leather pants are back in style for women, but it’s an occupational hazard. I spend way too much time around make-up artists, stylists, and photoshoots. Being on the cover of GQ requires at least a rudimentary understanding of style.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I wander the upscale shop, piling clothes into my arms. It’s all shit she needs anyway. A few bodysuits, blazers, some shorts. The nineties band T-shirts, I’ll admit, are more for my own benefit than anyone else’s.
I love nineties music and I’m sure the princess will be confused when she doesn’t recognize any of them. It’ll make Ronan feel old, too—knowing our omega doesn’t even recognize music from his adolescence. So I throw four of them onto the pile.
Thank God I know what I’m doing because the other guys are just embarrassing. Archer looks distinctly uncomfortable, loitering outside the dressing room like an uneasy husband might hover at his wife’s gynecologist visit. Ronan sits in the one chair across from the curtain, tapping his fingers impatiently and glaring at his watch like its pace personally offends him.
Theo approaches me after I’ve deposited my selections on the ottoman at the edge of the changing area. His eyes dart to the others furtively before he lowers his voice, not wanting to be overheard. For once.
“Where were you Sunday night?”
I wondered if they’d noticed. It’s almost good to know they did. “Out.”
I’m lying again. I slept in a guest room on the opposite side of the house because I didn’t trust myself. The scent of Meg’s slick made me insane. I spent the better part of the night rutting my own hand, and still woke up hard enough to break glass.
Theo straightens to his full 6’6”, scowling at me. The expression looks all wrong on him. With his hewn features, he’s actually scary when he glares. “You’re a shithead, you know that?”
I shrug, deciding there’s no point revealing the shameful truth. “I was told not to come home. Just following orders.”
He crosses his arms. “You know I’ve known you for our entire lives,” he huffs. “Why are you bullshitting me right now?”
Because I just about fucked our couch cushion, and it wasn’t exactly my proudest moment.
But now I have to know.
“What the hell happened in the living room?” I counter. “It smelled like a porn set in there.”
Theo’s unnatural expression eases into a cocky grin. “Ah, so you did come home. Knew it.”
I flip him off, turning to look at a rack of clothes I missed before. A tight Lycra skirt catches my eye. The nude color looks just right. Not that I’ve seen very much of the woman’s skin.
I haven’t even touched her, I realize, my eyes automatically flying over to her changing room.
No matter how stubborn I am, there’s a distinct possibility I may give in on that very front soon. The need to feel her body beats like a separate pulse under my skin. Will it erode my pride eventually?
Theo leans closer, whispering, “Peaches had a heat-spike, and sort of… rode it out in the living room.”
Oh shit. That image alone.
Who was riding who? Was it just Meg on her own, all over that cushion? Or was one of them under her?
My scent rises while I bite down on a growl. He flashes a shit-eating grin. “I know.” Then he shakes his head. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this shit. You don’t deserve it.”
“Yeah, well,” I sniff, pretending my dick isn’t pressing into my joggers. “If she’s yours, then I guess she’s mine, too. And she and I will have our own… thing. You guys need to get over it.”
