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From her place across my old bedroom, Serena smirks at me like the naughty little kitten she is.
You think this is sooooo funny, huh? I gripe internally. Maybe I should tie you to my chair again.
She knows I’m not bluffing. Her sweet, creamy scent is still soaked into the black leather recliner that currently has the Ospreys’ star player draped over it.
Since we all started sleeping in the Omega Suite together every night, this place has basically become our own personal tattoo parlor.
It sat empty for a couple of months before our girl came to me one day and shyly asked if I’d meant what I said the day I told her I would ink her. Now, a couple of years and half a dozen designs later, she knows I don’t make idle threats.
They’re called “promises,” Ave, Tristan chimes.
He’s downstairs, being a stick in the mud with the other pack alpha, the doctor, and the professor—while the cool kids get tattoos.
For good measure, I send both Thornes a nice, long mental image of Theo Matthew’s bare ass and get an internal wince back.
Jesus Christ, Avery, Spencer snaps. I am eating.
I start to pan my gaze over to a particularly bloody line I just inked, but a soft, tinkling laugh fills our bond.
Menace… Green eyes glance up from where she and Meg are sitting crossed-legged on my former bed.
The makeshift curtain I have up to keep my girl from having to witness this atrocity makes it hard for me to see her whole face, but I catch the teasing light in our omega’s gaze as she asks, Why are we torturing Spencer?
Anytime she interrupts one of my mean streaks, she always says “we.” Because, in her mind, I’m her permanent accomplice. And she’s mine.
Which is how I got roped into this clusterfuck.
It was supposed to be one piece. Her sister’s goalie alpha, Cassian, wanted a blue butterfly like the monarch I have in the center of my chest.
I like the guy, since he tends to keep his yap shut, unlike their other packmate Damon. Plus, it was some romantic shit for my sister-in-law. So I said fine.
Little did I know.
“Peeeeeachessss,” the burly blond football player whines. “It buuuuurns.”
The Ash Pack omega snickers. “I told you, big guy: This is allll you.”
From their spot on the floor, Declan and Jonah both snort. “It can’t be that bad,” Declan grumbles. “Unlike what this animal did to my spine.”
An animal? As I stand here tattooing his packmate for nothing but a good time?
I press harder on the needle and Theo actually whimpers.
“Menace,” Serena calls out loud, her soft voice full of mischief. “Behave.”
Jonah scratches his beard and laughs. “Fat fucking chance.”
I flash her half a smile. “What do I get if I behave?”
Gold sparkles in her green gaze. “I’ll let you finish my thigh piece tonight.”
Oh fuck. I’ve been steadily working on it for months. A detailed, shaded vision of the garden she envisions as the center of our bond. I drew it for her as part of her birthday gift, and she’s been sitting for sessions ever since.
It’s been slow work… probably because I stop to lick her cunt every few minutes.
My pheromones flex, filling the room as Declan rolls his eyes, Jonah chuffs, and Meg chortles. Theo shoots me a dirty look. “Are you and your omega flirting while my ass is out?”
“Yep,” Serena and I answer together, then grin at one another.
