Page 43 of Knot Going Down

He doesn’t let go, the touch searing into my embarrassed face.

“I was trying to flirt, okay?” I blurt out. “I was trying to flirt, and I’m clearly not very good at it.” My pout is entirely genuine as I turn away from him. With a deep breath, I take my shot. The ball ricochets off the ceramic dolphin obstacle before dropping into the cup with a satisfyingplunk.

“That’s a hole-in-five,” I say smugly, hopefully turning things around and getting his focus off me.

“A new course record,” Declan counters with a pleased smile, walking toward where Lucas waits at the next hole.

“That was good, Emily. You are improving.” Lucas smiles as he looks behind me at Declan. “The personal tutelage is helping. Perhaps Declan can give me a few pointers, too.”

The heat in his gaze is entirely unmistakable. The thought of the sun-kissed rugby player with legs for days and the surly federal agent with a chest like a god has me squirming.

“You both are menaces.” Declan grabs my hand and pulls me after him toward the next hole.

“I will own up to that,” Lucas says with a smile. “Bonus chapter in the expanded Beta Handbook:How to Ruin the Mental Stability of Emotionally Repressed Sexy Alphas.”

“I’m not emotionally repressed,” Declan scoffs, but I’m inclined to agree with Lucas.

“I’m only a menace when I’m over-stimulated,” I say. “Diving keeps me focused.”

“Are you over-stimulated right now?” Declan’s thumb grazes my wrist.

“I’m perfectly stimulated.” And I mean it. And, holy shit, that was a successfully flirty line!

“Sometimes it is fun to be over-stimulated,” Lucas says as he drops his ball onto the fake grass. He winks at me as he takes his shot, which means it goes wildly off course. He doesn’t seem to care.

Declan wraps his arm around my middle, his hand spanning from under my breast to the waist of my skirt. It’s a possessive move, but it does nothing to cool the look Lucas is giving us.

Being over-stimulated isn’t sounding so bad right now. Not when it’s with these two. My heart does a little lurch remembering all my teenage fantasies of having a pack, being surrounded by people who love me and love each other. I imagine Lucas crossing the few feet between us, pressing into my front as Declan presses into my back, each of them kissing along the column of my neck. Warmth flares through my body, and I wonder if this is what it’s like to be an omega in heat. Only a hundred times more intense. From what I hear, the arousal is all-consuming.

And Ava’s going to experience that.

My fantasy shifts seamlessly to Ava between Declan and Knox. Me on the sidelines. But then she reaches for me, draws me in, kisses me.Woah.

I shake my head to clear it.

“Are you alright,docinho,” Lucas asks.

“Yep, fine.” The words squeak over my vocal cords. “Perfectly fine.” I wiggle out of Declan’s arms, bumping his hip with mine. “Bet I could beat you both blindfolded.”

“He has handcuffs.” Lucas cocks his head toward Declan. “Not a blindfold.”

“Handcuffed and blindfolded,” I reply, forcing fake confidence. Considering my current score, and how shaky I’m feeling after my surprising daydream, winning this round isimpossible. But being delusionally positive about mini golf is better than thinking about unrealistic scenarios.

Declan gives me a look that’s all smirk and mischief before leaning close to my ear. “Sweetheart, keep talking like that, and I’m gonna forget we’re still playing mini golf.”

And if he keeps talking likethat, I’m gonna start imagining I can have things that can never be mine.

24

AVA

The mattress dips when Emily joins me in bed. It’s late, and I want to ask her a million questions about her time out with Declan. I want to tell her what I learned from Knox, but I pretend to be asleep. Maybe it’s Declan’s scent all over her, the way it permeates the room and lets me know that whatever they were doing involved bodies close together. Or maybe it’s the whiff of Lucas on her too. The scents of the two men mix in a heady combination that makes my mouth water and slick gather between my legs. Stupid fucking omega hormones.

I need an escape from the images those smells induce. I need the oblivion of sleep.

We can talk tomorrow.

But Emily’s breath doesn’t even out. The more she tosses and turns, the more restless I become. We’re lying side by side in a bed that should be plenty big enough for an entire pack, but I feel every shift her body makes. I’m tuned in to every hitch of her breath.