Page 45 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

LIAM

T he building manager’s expression when we step into the lobby is nothing short of exhausted resignation. His eyes flick from Caleb’s stormy glare to Jude’s disheveled shirt (still dusted with muffin crumbs) before landing on Leah tucked between us, her fingers laced with Mason’s.

“Let me guess,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “Heat emergency?”

The question hangs in the air like an unwelcome odor. I feel every muscle in Leah’s body tense beside me, her scent spiking with embarrassment and indignation. Caleb’s chest expands with a barely suppressed growl.

“No!” Leah’s cheeks flush crimson as she straightens her spine. “We’re just?—”

The manager’s gaze shifts to Leah, softening with concern. “Miss Carter, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you?” He pauses. “The police perhaps?”

Caleb’s growl becomes audible, making a passing resident quicken her pace toward the mailboxes.

Leah’s flush deepens. “That won’t be necessary…”

“We’re reconvening,” I interject smoothly. “Temporarily.”

The manager’s eyebrows rise toward his receding hairline. “Reconvening,” he repeats flatly. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Jude, seizing on the manager’s skepticism, flashes his most salacious grin. “We prefer ‘pack bonding activities.’ Very important for group cohesion.”

I step on his foot—hard.

“Ow! What the?—”

“Thank you for your concern,” I say to the manager, drowning out Jude’s protest. “We’ll be on our way.”

The manager throws his hands up in surrender, the very picture of a man who has reached his limit. “Whatever. I’m done asking questions I don’t want answers to. Just keep it down. I’ve already been dealing with reports of alphas making ‘animal sounds’ near your apartment.”

Jude perks up. “Which kind of animal? Because if it was a?—”

Mason, bless him, claps a hand over Jude’s mouth. “We’ll be mindful of the noise level,” he assures the manager, his voice a calm, reasonable tone.

The elevator doors open with a cheerful ding that feels wildly inappropriate given the circumstances. As we turn to enter, Mrs. Finley materializes in the lobby with uncanny timing, her sharp eyes taking in Leah’s rumpled clothes and the possessive way Caleb’s hand rests at the small of her back.

“Well, well,” she says, her voice carrying across the lobby with remarkable projection for someone her size. “Leah, you’ve returned. And with your entire... collection.” Her gaze sweeps over all four of us with an undisguised twinkle in her eye.

“Hello, Mrs. Finley,” Leah manages, her voice strained. “Just heading upstairs.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Mrs. Finley nods sagely. “I’ll bring by muffins in the morning,” she declares, as if this explains everything. “Blueberry. For stamina.”

Leah makes a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a whimper.

“That’s... very thoughtful,” I say, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of dignity as Jude struggles against Mason’s hand, clearly bursting to add some inappropriate comment.

“Been married fifty-three years,” Mrs. Finley continues, her voice carrying across the lobby. “I know what it takes to keep multiple partners satisfied.” She winks at Leah. “Carbohydrates, dear. And proper hydration.”

The building manager looks like he’s contemplating a career change, possibly to something that involves complete isolation from other human beings.

“Noted,” Leah squeaks as Caleb follows her into the elevator, the rest of us piling in behind them.

“Coconut water!” Mrs. Finley calls as the doors begin to close. “Excellent for replacing electrolytes after?—”

The doors mercifully cut off the remainder of her advice.

For a moment, we all stand in stunned silence, the elevator’s soft hum the only sound as we ascend.

Then Jude lets out a whoop of laughter. “Mrs. Finley is my new hero! ‘Stamina muffins’—I’m putting that on the brewery’s brunch menu.”

“You will do no such thing,” Mason mutters, though I catch the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Leah drops her forehead against my chest with a groan. “Kill me now.”

“Not after all the effort we just put into getting you back,” I say lightly, my free arm wrapping around her shoulders in a comforting squeeze.

The elevator stops at the third floor, and we file out, Leah leading the way to her apartment. The hallway feels narrower with all five of us crowded into it, our combined scents creating a potent mixture that has a passing beta neighbor quickening her steps with widened eyes.

Leah fumbles with her keys, the slight tremor in her fingers betraying her nervousness despite the brave front she’s putting on. Mason gently takes them from her hand, locating the correct key and unlocking the door in one smooth motion.

“Show-off,” Jude mutters.

Leah’s studio apartment smells like the fading traces of our combined scents from our previous visit. The familiarity of our scents in her space settles something restless in my chest that I hadn’t even realized was there.

“So,” Jude says, breaking the awkward silence as we all hover uncertainly just inside the doorway. “Dinner? I’m thinking takeout, because I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving after all that emotional reconciliation. Maybe Thai? Or that Indian place on 4th that does the?—”

Leah hands me the flowers, turns, and kisses him.

It’s not gentle. It’s all a crushing of lips and desperation, Jude’s surprised grunt muffled against her mouth as she backs him against the wall. My fingers tighten around the flower stems, the cellophane wrapper crinkling loudly in the suddenly charged atmosphere.

Jude recovers from his shock quickly, his hands finding Leah’s waist as he returns the kiss with equal fervor. The scent of aroused alpha and omega fills the small apartment like a flash flood, drowning out everything else.

Caleb’s growl vibrates through the room, deep and possessive. His eyes flash with something dangerous, but I recognize the heat in them—not anger, but fierce desire.

Leah pulls back from Jude just enough to smirk at Caleb over Jude’s shoulder, her lips swollen and eyes bright with challenge. “Problem?” she asks, voice husky.

Mason exhales loudly through his nose, his usual calm demeanor cracking slightly at the edges. “Leah,” he says, his voice holding a warning—though whether it’s for her or for himself, I’m not entirely sure.

She releases Jude, who looks dazed and delighted, and turns to face the rest of us. The air between us practically crackles with tension as she takes a deliberate step toward Mason.

“I thought about you,” she says, her voice low and intimate. “All of you. While I was gone.”

Mason swallows visibly. “Did you?”

She nods, reaching out to trace a finger down the center of his chest. “I thought about how you always know exactly what I need before I ask for it.” Her finger stops at his waistband. “How your hands feel when you?—”

“Leah,” I interject, my voice tighter than I intended. “Perhaps we should discuss?—”

“I don’t want to discuss anything.” She cuts me off, turning to face me with an expression that knocks the breath from my lungs. “I’ve done enough thinking, enough talking, enough running. Haven’t you?”

The question hangs between us, heavy with implication. The sunflowers are still clutched in my hand, their brightness almost absurd in the tension-filled room.

“What do you want?” Caleb asks, his voice rough with restraint. “I mean…What do you need right now?”

Leah’s gaze shifts to him, her pupils dilating as she takes in his powerful frame, the tension visible in every line of his body. “I want to stop overthinking everything,” she says. “I want to stop being afraid of what I feel. I want—” She takes a deep breath. “I want all of you.”

The apartment goes so quiet I can hear the faint ticking of the clock on her wall, the distant hum of traffic outside, the collective intake of breath from four males who have been balanced on a knife’s edge of wanting and restraint.

“Right now? Are you sure?” Mason asks, ever the level-headed one.

Leah’s answer is to reach for the hem of her borrowed sweater and pull it over her head in one fluid motion, revealing a simple cotton bra beneath. “Does this look unsure to you?”

The room temperature seems to spike about twenty degrees.

“Fuck,” Jude breathes eloquently from his position against the wall.

I set the sunflowers down very carefully on the nearest surface, adjusting my shirt in what I hope appears to be a calm gesture rather than the stalling tactic it is. “Leah, we should establish some rules?—”

“Rules?” She laughs, the sound both amused and slightly wild.

“I’ve spent my entire life living within parameters, Liam.

Being careful. Making sure I don’t ask for too much or take up too much space.

” She steps closer to me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her skin.

“For once, I don’t want rules. I just want to feel. ”

And then she’s kissing me, and all my careful plans and logical processes short-circuit at once.

The world narrows to simply sensation—Leah pulling me toward her bed, shoving Jude back onto the mattress with a forcefulness that makes his eyes widen with delight.

Her lips rip from mine as she climbs astride him with predatory intent, her hands making quick work of his belt buckle.

“Less talking,” she orders, the command in her voice making my blood run hot despite being directed at someone else.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jude agrees readily, his usual quips silenced by the determined look in her eyes.

I stand transfixed, watching as she claims Jude’s mouth in another searing kiss, her hips rolling against his in a rhythm that has him groaning against her lips.

The scent of aroused omega fills the room like an intoxicant, mingling with the sharper notes of alpha pheromones in a heady cocktail that makes my cock throb painfully against my zipper.