Page 18

AJ

C ock buried inside Verity, our lips crashed together. Any doubt I had about our little alpha wanting me for the wrong reasons had dissipated.

It was still a little hard for me to accept that women would want me for anything other than my lineage, name, genetics, and the power and connections my family offered.

While I appreciated the fact that Verity found me attractive, I didn’t want that to be the only reason she wanted me. Same with me being convenient.

I yearned to be as important to her as everyone else in the pack. Because I might just be in love with her.

Those words lit me on fire. I missed you. I desired her. Not only her beautiful body. No, I craved a place in that giant, kind heart. I ached to see her face light up for me. How I wanted to spend nights sitting with her watching sports. I yearned to curl up with her on the couch while waiting for the guys to come home, so I wasn’t so lonely when they traveled.

Breaking off the kiss, I fumbled for the belt that restrained her hands, still locked inside her. I’d never been locked by a female alpha before. For a moment, I really had seen stars. My still inflated knot was a little miffed that it wasn’t buried inside that warm cunt.

Being locked inside her made me fully understand why alpha females had trouble taking knots. They had to relax in just the right way, while still being able to do what they were made to do.

It made me want to train her to take my knot. Preferably before Jonas. No, I wasn’t competitive at all .

That sweet ass would take my knot later tonight.

My belt fell to the floor, and I rolled us onto our sides, which was difficult on the narrow chaise. I rubbed her hands and wrists, a groan escaping her pouty pink lips.

“That feels good, my king.” Her eyes went half-lidded.

She was wearing makeup, though it was a light, natural look. I’d kissed off all her shiny gloss. Did she wear cosmetics because she liked to be made up? Or was it armor much like my own clothing?

A hit of anxiety shot through me as I wondered if she’d still admire me in sweats the way she did when I wore a suit.

“Are you okay, Princess?” I asked. That had been fast and hard.

“Beyond okay. That was amazing,” she breathed as her salt and driftwood scent flared with want.

“Good.” I rubbed her arms and gazed into her eyes. Her lock loosened enough for my cock to slip out, though I was ready to go again.

“We should get dressed and get dinner going.” A sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t want Mercy to wonder where we are.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s not.” Rolling off the chaise, I scooped her up and gave her another kiss on the nose as I moved to the secret door. “We need to shower.”

We should have stopped here and showered first after wading through the water in her apartment instead of going shopping straight away.

“If you want to have a nice soak after the shower to help with any stiffness after the flight, you should do it. Three people cooking at once gets a little crowded, anyway. If you miss the first bit of the game, I won’t tell.” Opening the door with one hand, I flipped on the light of the secret room and opened the door to my closet.

She looked up into my eyes. “That’s a tempting proposition, my king.”

My king. I adored hearing those words drip from her swollen lips.

“I’d be alright with you using the passage to my room sometimes,” I told her as we entered my closet. “After all, I have some clothes that you would look ravishing in, and I know you’ll care for them.”

“Like me wearing one of your soft custom dress shirts with the monogramming and nothing else?” She gazed around at the contents, which were hard to make out in the darkness.

“Mmmm, yes.” Or one of my T-shirts. “I… I’m not trying to shut you out. Honestly, if Grif and I are sleeping, I don’t care if you slip in next to us. Especially if you have a bad dream or get a mean text. Just use your ears and nose. I just like to have Grif to myself sometimes.”

She looked up at me. “You’re allowed to have boundaries, and I’ll be cautious. I’m guessing it’s like when I was in Jonas’ room, and he wouldn’t let Dean in. Said he didn’t get to see that.”

Relief that she understood whooshed over me as we emerged from the closet.

My room was bigger than the others and had a large balcony. Sometimes, when the weather was pleasant, I moved messier art projects out onto it. The room was dark, the curtains open, the city illuminating it. It didn’t have a corner view like Dean’s room, but it still was nice.

The couch and table I had in the corner weren’t for show. I had my own coffee cart and mini-fridge in here. When they were gone, I often had my morning coffee on the balcony. The carpet was plush and soft under my feet, and the walls a soothing pale gray with dark green accents.

“AJ, this is beautiful,” Verity breathed, eyes fixed on the skyline. She looked around the room. “I see what Mercy was saying. It would be easy to fit a desk in here.”

“True. Mostly, I don’t want to work in my sleeping space.” Especially since I liked to create in here.

An open bookcase, filled with books, art supplies, souvenirs from my travels, and things from my hockey days, sectioned off my art studio from the sleeping and living areas. She probably couldn’t see it in the darkness.

“Fair.” She gazed up at me, feeling right in my arms. “Grif might not want me to cross his space to sneak into your room, though.”

“That’s if he wants it. He might not. Even if we redesigned it, it’s a small space, and he’s a large guy. That could be your hideaway reading nook. You can keep all your books in there,” I chuckled.

The look on her face said she wasn’t averse to the idea. I should give her access to our shopping accounts so she could order replacement things, especially clothing. It had most likely taken her years to build her wardrobe.

Though if she was anything like Jonas, she’d order books first.

I carried her into my bathroom, the low light coming on automatically. Like my bedroom, it was sleek but comfortable, done in white marble and black wood with bronze fixtures. It had a floating sink and a sunken tub with steps that looked out on the city. A pile of soft dark gray towels sat in a hutch by some large plants.

There was also a spacious shower with several safety bars.

“It’s like a luxury spa,” she breathed, taking it all in.

“That’s the point. I got it redesigned when I moved in.” I set her down on the rug in front of my long shower. It was my one big remodel and worth every penny.

I stripped off my shirt and tossed it into the wicker clothes basket. Then I turned on the low shower lights and switched off the others to give us a relaxing glow. At the wall, I programmed the shower. Wisps of lightly scented mist curled into the shower as I warmed it with the steam function.

“I love the bench. Is that a pillow on it? For shower naps?” Verity stood next to me, completely naked. She sniffed the air. “It smells nice in here.”

I took in her muscled abs, her toned legs, and golden breasts. “I like to scent the steam with eucalyptus oil.”

“Fancy.” She grinned.

Picking her up, I opened the glass door and stepped in. Gently, I laid her face down on the long bench, positioned her head on the pillow, then pushed the button on the panel by her head and I got a good look at the little fairy tattoo.

I’d seen the little flower on her inner thigh as I fucked her. The only tattoo I had was our pack tattoo, though Grif and I had talked about getting matching tattoos at some point.

Water cascaded down on her naked back from the six water bars above her. The water would change patterns, intensity, and temperatures as it ran through the sequence.

“It’s a horizontal shower, though I like shower bed better. There are several programs–for waking up, going to sleep, and when my leg really hurts. I can change the program if you don’t like it. Let me know if the temperatures aren’t right,” I told her as I used a short version of the program I’d custom designed for my leg, since our bum legs were on the same side.

“I love it.” Her eyes closed, and the delicious moan that escaped her lips made me want to have her all over again.

Later.

I turned on the overhead rain shower for myself, since it wouldn’t bother her experience. As she laid there, I washed myself off. The shower worked through the program, then returned to simply cascading down her back like she was lying under a waterfall. Verity looked like a goddess from my grandmother’s stories.

“Did you like it?” I asked as I soaped up my hands and ran them over her curves.

She looked up at me, sleepy and satisfied. “Now that is how you shower, Cow Boy.”

“I’m most definitely the winner of our cook-off.” Mercy looked over at us from her perch on the ottoman, smug. She wore some sweats from her high school and a tank top, her wet hair in two braids.

I’d never seen her hair not in two Dutch braids.

I surveyed the remains of our dinner–a platter of three varieties of lamb kabobs, grilled vegetables, bowls of sauces, and rice, which were spread out on the coffee table in the living room. The Knights played the Quebec étoiles on TV.

“Yours were good, Mercy,” I admitted. It was possibly the best of the three, with its very Greek flair. Who knew the head of a biotech company would have good recipes?

That sauce. The garlic breath was worth it.

“I’m so full. Everyone did such a good job.” Verity curled into me on the couch in some pale blue striped lounge pants and a T-shirt that said Marquess Fútbol from her suitcase.

My hand ran down her shoulder. “I have to say your recipe was excellent.”

I’d wanted to win. Those two cooked circles around me tonight.

“I liked yours.” She looked up at me and smiled.

We watched on the TV as Clark stole the puck, the étoiles chasing him and getting it away. Someone knocked over Carlos, and Grif pushed him up against the glass and punched him. The person hit him back as a minor scuffle broke out. The Knights were up 2-1.

Mercy grinned. “What do I win? You two not being nauseating for the rest of the night?”

“Driving lessons, as soon as I get my car back from Hale?” Verity replied. “I’m cleared for driving now. I got the email while we were gone.”

Mercy snorted. “Hale’s not giving you back your car. Though I’m happy to help you steal it back from him. How long is the drive?”

“Much longer than the ultra-bullet. Even if there isn’t a direct route. I told him a million times it was to borrow until I can drive again. I like my car and I worked hard to buy it myself. He’s supposed to drive it out with my flower bulbs.” Verity rubbed her temples.

“It’s a nice car,” Mercy agreed. “But you need a convertible. A pink one.”

Verity laughed and shook her head. “Please don’t buy me a car.”

“Oh, but I will because I can.” Mercy waved her phone around, both of them giggling.

“I was thinking more like you could choose dessert or not have to wash the dishes,” I told them.

“Fair. That means Verity washes up because you grilled. I’m still hungry. I’m going to cut up the pineapple.” Mercy popped up with a quickness that made my knee ache. She went to the kitchen, taking some dishes with her.

“Pineapple?” I blinked. We hadn’t bought one at the store.

“It’s her favorite. She brought it in her suitcase. Not that you would, but don’t tease her by taking food off her plate. Years of Hale doing that has made her a little violent when that happens.” Verity shrugged as she sat up and grabbed the platter.

“Noted. Grif is like that with his special snacks–though they’re all labeled.” Siblings could be colossal assholes. There was a reason I didn’t talk to most of mine. I was one of seven. Most of them were good children who worked for our dads.

Since the game had gone to a commercial, I joined her, grabbing some more of the dishes.

“Look how much snow has already piled up on the balcony. Good thing we don’t have practice tomorrow.” Mercy had her face pressed to the glass.

It was freezing when I’d grilled out on the terrace . By the time I’d finished, snow started coming down.

“I have a feeling that the storm might come early,” I replied, joining her. “What sort of car does Verity have?”

“A fancy sedan with a moonroof. It has a great stereo so I understand why Hale wants to keep it. Ver worked her ass off to buy it outright, even did a job for them to get a discount. She wanted the little convertible, but the parents needed her to have a car they could fit car seats in, so she could ferry the littles.” Mercy showed me a picture on her phone.

There was a slightly younger Verity in a gray suit and a stunning necklace getting into a silver sedan. Her hair, nails, shoes, watch, briefcase, sunglasses, and makeup were not only perfection, but the right choices for that particular luxury car brand. Classic and classy, while still oozing power and elegance. A car as confident as you, the copy read.

I’d buy that.

“It would be nice to get her a convertible. Something that fits me, her, and barely my duffle. We joke because Kaiko got her older sister one. But I’m sort of serious. Verity likes cute things. She should have a car that doesn’t fit a car seat while she can.” Mercy showed me another picture. It was a mid-priced trendy convertible made by Deloitte Automotive.

“I could see her driving that.” Maybe I should get my own car and pick something Verity could drive. My parents always had a driver, so I liked being a rebel and using the metro.

“Right? It’s so her,” Mercy nodded.

“It’s sweet of you, though you should save your money. Someone’s teaching you to be smart with it, right?” I asked, because I could think of all the things I’d buy at seventeen with a professional athlete’s paycheck.

Also, rookies could be dumbasses with their money. Grif was fine in the minors because our pay was shit for the work we put in. Once we’d moved up and started receiving those big paychecks, he’d been tempted to make bad choices. Many of which I’d been able to talk him out of. I’d also set him up with a business manager to help him with his goals. While I was all for him helping his family, he should plan for his future, too.

“Yep, most of it gets put away and the Maimers are making me take an online class. It’s pretty good. Again, teach me about investing. Please? One of the parents’ biggest arguments against professional sports is that it’s a short-lived, unstable career. Which I’m well aware of.” Mercy nodded as she chopped up the pineapple with the skill of someone who’d done it before.

She put the pineapple in three bowls. “I want to save as much as possible because I don’t know how many years I’ll get to do this. After I finish high school, I want to look into one of those university programs for professional athletes and work toward my history degree. When I’m ready to retire, I’ll teach at a high school and coach skate smash.”

“All very smart things,” I told her, looking around. Verity seemed to have disappeared. Mercy had such a practical streak. How much of that was Verity?

“This is the car I want at some point.” She showed me another picture on her phone.

“I could see you driving that.” It was a sporty green 4x4 buggy. A little much for NYC, but perfect for going up to the mountains where the cabin was. We’d need to upgrade our SUV and 4x4 so that Verity and Mercy would fit.

Verity joined us. “I rebooted the laundry.” She glanced at the windows and the storm brewing outside. Her face fell. “Oh, it’s snowing. What’s the best way to get to campus? They’ve fixed my greenhouse, so I should go in tomorrow. There was so much I wanted to get done over break and it didn’t happen.”

Her scent soured, and I put an arm around her.

“It’s easy enough, but we should keep an eye on the storm. They’ll understand if you don’t get everything all fixed before classes start,” I told her.

“I know,” she sighed. “Still, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

My grip on her tightened. I liked things to go according to plan, too.

“It’ll be fine, Ver. I’ll even help,” Mercy assured, putting the top and rind of the pineapple in the food scrap bin. “Game’s back on.” She grabbed all three bowls and forks.

“I can do the dishes during intermission? I don’t know your house rules,” Verity said as I led her back to the couch.

“That’s fine. The big one is to clean up after yourself. Leave public spaces as you found them. If you need the dining room table for a project, great, just give us a heads-up. Same if people are coming over. Respect private spaces. Ask before using Grif’s piano. Don’t fuck up anyone’s game progress. Lose puzzle pieces to your own detriment. Don’t leave dishes in the sink overnight. If you bring dishes into your room, bring them back out.” I couldn’t think of anything else, though Jonas probably had some.

Once again, Verity curled into me, and it felt so nice, so natural. I enjoyed spending time with her, though part of me wished Grif was here, too.

“Can I eat anything I want?” Mercy asked with her eyes on the TV, the game back on.

“As long as it’s not labeled. Also, label anything that’s only yours. Anything you finish, put on the grocery list. Don’t put empty or practically empty containers back.” I took a bowl and had a piece of pineapple. It was perfectly ripe and sweet.

“Fair.” Mercy popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth.

We watched the game as the Knights continued to hold on to their lead. Throughout every commercial break, Verity would get up, do a couple of things in the kitchen, and then sit back down.

She must be a bit like Jonas. I kept things neat because I liked to take care of my stuff. Jonas liked everything to be orderly because it distracted him if they weren’t.

Between the second and third period when they went to intermission, Verity returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning. Mercy put away the laundry. I caught up on work emails.

“Do you need help?” I asked Verity. The dishwasher was running, and the platter sat in the drying rack next to the sink.

Verity shook her head as she hand-washed the blender and rice cooker pot. “I’m fine.”

I walked the balconies, seeing if anything needed to be put in, covering the main furniture, and moving the small table and chair on my balcony into my room.

When I came back out, Verity wasn’t there. I walked up the stairs to do the same for the terrace, including moving the grill into the hall and quickly cleaning it.

Right as the game came back on, I took a seat on the couch. Verity wiped down the counters. Mercy plopped down on the ottoman with a box of the cookies we’d bought earlier.

“Verity, game’s back on,” I told her. “It can wait.”

“Almost done,” she called from the kitchen.

The third period started off fast and furious, as the étoiles tried to even the score. Jonas tried to block their forward, but he knocked him down and went for the goal. Dean caught the shot as he slid to the left. I cheered.

“Ver, you’re missing the game!” Mercy yelled.

“I can see it from here,” Verity said as she mopped the floor. “AJ, I love this steam mop. It’s incredible.”

Why was she mopping the floor? Did we spill something? I’d swept up before we ate.

She finished and started again. Meanwhile, Grif plowed through the étoiles’ defenses and scored again, bringing the score to 3-1.

Mercy looked over at her sister and then back to me. “You might want to deal with that.”

Verity was moving chairs and steam-mopping the dining area , which we hadn’t even used.

“Should I throw her over my shoulder and bring her to the couch?” I asked.

“Or let her know you’ll still love her if she doesn’t mop everything three times after every meal. Or no one will shout at her if she misses a spot. This will become important when she uses the oven. One good thing about living on our own was that no one will critique our cleaning or get mad at us for not doing it perfectly. We’re tidy, but we’re not perfect.” She bit her lower lip like Verity did, anxiety in her eyes.

Her look grew fierce as her plum scent became spicy with anger. “If you’re that kind of pack, I’m forcibly removing her, fuck the snow.”

My heart wrenched. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”

This wasn’t her place. She was so proud and liked doing everything herself. I’d have to let her know that nothing was expected from her. Not cleaning, not anything else.

“You should. Ver will automatically think she needs to do most of the cooking and cleaning since she has the ‘least value’ job. Because that’s how it was at home,” Mercy sighed.

“Fucking shit.” I shook my head, glad they were away from that. I stood. “Thank you. I don’t want either of you to feel you have to do more than anyone else, okay? And no, no one’s going to yell at you for not cleaning the counter well enough. Jonas will get grumpy if dishes are left in the sink too long, though.”

“Noted. You don’t do weird language nights, right? While I’m all for conducting conversations in other languages and watching foreign movies, I’m opting out of mandated we only speak this language on this day dinners.” Mercy made a face. Then she thought for a moment. “Unless they’re fake languages. I’d consider learning some fandom language because that could be fun.”

“As someone who has a translator for a mother who made us do that growing up, I empathize. The fake language idea is fun. I’m sure there’s some space-movie language Jonas would love us all to learn.” I looked over at Verity. “The kitchen looks great. Come sit down. Want a beer?”

“I should do it one more time.” Verity’s brow furrowed.

“It’s clean enough, Princess. We will still love you if it’s not perfect. You don’t need to mop the floor unless you spill something. No one will be mad if things are not spotless. You don’t owe us because you’re staying here.” I went over and put my arms around her.

“But…” Her face crumpled.

“I know.” I held her tighter. “We have a cleaner who comes several times a week. The floors are fine. The only reason why we even have the rules we do is because Dean will leave dirty dishes everywhere.”

“Okay. Are you sure? This isn’t my house.” Her brows furrowed.

My heart broke. “It’ll be your home soon enough. And no, you don’t have to repay us for staying here, not with cleaning, not with anything else. ”

Her body relaxed, and I took the steam mop from her and put it in the kitchen cupboard where it lived with the broom and dustpan.

I opened the fridge. “Let’s have a beer and watch the game. Unless you want some wine? Also, I know where Jonas keeps his good bourbon.”

“Why does my bathroom have a wine fridge?” She stood at my shoulder and grabbed a bottle of beer.

“I have no idea.” I shrugged and grabbed one of my own. “Now come on, let’s see if Grif scores that third goal.”

We sat back on the couch just in time to see Nakey block someone from getting near the Knight’s goal as Carlos stole the puck and raced to the other side. Someone blocked him, and he passed it to Dimitri, who was having a bad night. He missed, and the étoiles got it. Grif whizzed by, stole it, and shot it into the net.

His goal music played, and the crowd threw bones onto the ice. Three goals for Grif. Good for him.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” I wrapped my arms around her. While I’d known that her parents were shitty, I hadn’t truly grasped what a place of their own might mean to them.

I should have. There was a reason I’d moved to Bucharest after graduating from NYIT when I hadn’t gotten a PHL contract. Why one summer I’d run away to join the rodeo. Sure, I loved my parents–but I couldn’t stand living with them.

Mercy got up from her seat and joined us on the couch, putting an arm around her sister.

“You’re both safe here,” I told them. “In this pack, everyone has a voice, everyone matters. If something’s wrong, if you don’t like something, are concerned, or are just pissed, tell us any way you like. Face to face, group chat, lipstick on the glass doors.”

“Good.” Mercy gave me a look like she couldn’t wait to write a complaint in makeup.

“You and Mercy made yourself your own little sanctuary. Now it’s been destroyed and you’re back under someone’s roof. You might be stuck with us in a snowstorm, but you matter. I promise,” I assured them both, giving Verity another squeeze.

We watched the rest of the game, all three of us on the couch. After the game ended, Mercy popped up off the sofa with a cat-like stretch, put away the cookies, and looked at her phone.

“I’m going to bed. Smell you later.” Mercy waved.

Verity gave her a hug, whispering something, and then Mercy ran upstairs. The snow was coming down hard now and the windows rattled a bit. Yep, we were in for it.

“Would you like to take a bath and go to bed?” I told her. “If not, we could always watch the post-game or a movie?”

“I missed some big fútbol games. Do you have any we could watch?” Her eyes flickered at the window. “That’s a lot of snow. I need to go to the greenhouse tomorrow.”

“No one expects you to do anything in a blizzard.” It was probably her first.

She frowned. “But do they?”

“They don’t. Hey, I have a couple of games we could put on. Do you need a snack?” I suggested. While I was full from dinner, I could eat a crunchy snack. We had a lot of chips now.

She nodded. “Can I make hot cocoa and popcorn? That’s what my Mama and I always had. We always watched games together. Dare would often join in. Sometimes, Mumsy or Harry, depending on who was playing. During games, there would be no talk of anything bad. Even if we were mad, the games were always a safe space.”

“That sounds amazing. I think we have what we need.” I grabbed the remote and pulled up the fútbol games we had as options. Sure, popcorn worked.

Verity’s eyes focused on the gas fireplace. “Can we use that?”

“We can even move the couch closer and tilt the TV.” Given the weather, that plan sounded nice–hot cocoa and a fútbol game in front of the fire.

Verity went to the kitchen, and I moved the couch and coffee table and repositioned the TV. I got out a few soft blankets and switched off most of the lights in the living room, leaving on that one strand of fairy lights. The air filled with the smell of chocolate and popcorn.

“Now that’s cozy.” Verity put another mug on the table. “Let me grab the popcorn.”

I sat down on the couch and texted Grif that I was proud of him. Verity switched off the kitchen light, then joined me with a bowl of popcorn. I pulled a blanket over us and took a sip of hot chocolate.

“This is delicious,” I told her as chocolate exploded over my tongue. Jonas’ good bourbon would go well in this.

She beamed and snuggled into me. “Thanks.”

This. I wanted so much more of this, and I’d have it too because there would be many nights when the guys were away, and here we were without them–or waiting for them.

“So, which game should we watch?” I asked, grabbing the remote. Not that it mattered. Because I had her.