Page 30

Maya

I wake to Dakota’s lips peppering my face, soft kisses landing on my cheeks, my nose, my forehead. Brogan groans beside me, some kind of curse murmured into my neck. Roman isn’t as nice, flinging Dakota off the bed with a thud. A laugh tears from my throat as I sit up, both guys groaning at the loss of me between them. “What is going on?” My voice is still thick with sleep, my body achy as I lean over Roman to catch Dakota’s grin.

He scrambles to his feet, not at all phased by Roman. “Someone got arrested for assaulting an officer last night,” he wiggles his brows, referring to my ex-Alpha.

“Nox hit someone? Why would he do that?”

A laugh comes from my left, the aroma of bagels and coffee meeting my nose as Holt approaches our bed. He sets the bag and travel cups on the nightstand before sitting on the other bed. Dakota flops beside him, his entire face flushed from his upcoming heat before Holt begins. “When Nox was arrested last night, he was taken to the station. At some point, he put up a fight. I’m guessing it’s when they told him about the other charges? But this new assault charge just got added on top of that.”

That still doesn’t mean Nox won’t find a way out and then back to me. Roman sits up beside me, gently squeezing my thigh. “But we won’t be here. Thanksgiving, remember?”

I’m not sure how I forgot about next week, a smile spreading across my face at the thought of burrowing in Dakota’s nest away from Nox and his chaos. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say, then point at Dakota, his lips jutting out, a dramatic, playful whine paired with it. “Besides, do you see that pout?” Laughter erupts through the room, Dakota’s flush deepening as he sticks out his tongue.

I lean down to kiss Brogan, my Beta humming into it. “How’s your shoulder? Your head?”

“Headache’s gone. The arm will bruise but I can move it,” he mumbles, slowly sitting up with a wince. I glance over at it, frowning at the purpling bruise. “Maya, I promise I’m okay. I didn’t hit my head. Just really hard hits that shook me a bit.”

I want to fight him on that but Dakota’s already shoving a bagel at me before I’ve gotten out of the damn bed. There’s no use protesting, chomping on the cinnamon raisin to make our Omega happy. He happily sits back on the other bed, all but curling up against Holt. We have a day or two until his heat kicks in, maybe less by the way I keep catching whiffs of his scent.

And yet, he still perks up when Roman says that he and Brogan are taking me out on a date.

“Where are we going?” Dakota asks, but Holt laughs, shaking his head, his hand ruffling though Dakota’s hair.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t going anywhere. You smell delicious as fuck, and if you go into heat or have a spike in public, I’m not sure what any of us would do to the surrounding people.” There’s a protective glint in his eyes that I absolutely know he’d act on.

Dakota smirks, unbothered, sprawling across the bed. “Yeah, fine, come fuck me.”

That seems to be our cue to pack up as I snatch another bagel and mumble ‘catch me’ before darting off to the shower. Roman wins, Brogan not far behind, each of us fighting for a little bit of space under the water. I have no idea where they’re taking me but I’ll be glad for the distraction.

I should have known that Brogan had chosen this little date, telling me that it was a little piece of my past that I could dwell in. Dakota always used to drag me out to this arcade as we tried every game and I’d lose hilariously every time. Brogan joined once or twice but the only game I ever won was the dance competition. For some reason, that’s what I excelled in and from then on, it’s the only one I challenged people on.

However, just the excitement of this place slowly brings me out of my shell, demanding me to stay in the present. We’re tossing tokens into claw machines, Roman swearing as his prize slips, Brogan nailing a basketball shot, before he growls at the pain shooting through his shoulder. I mention something about taking it easy and he just glares at me before buying me cheesy nachos and a blue raspberry snow cone. I want to be pissed at him but food is one of my weaknesses so I let it go.

Every time my mind wanders, Roman’s there, nudging my shoulder, or Brogan’s passing me a soda, their presence pulling me back, grounding me in this moment. “You’re slacking, coach,” Brogan teases, tossing a skee-ball, and I roll my eyes, because I suck at this game. As well as the last five Roman had me try. I’ll just horde my goodies and watch them duke it out, pleasantly surprised when Roman beats Brogan at a game that Brogan called himself a beast.

Instead of retaliating, Brogan lovingly slips the food from my hands and gestures to the dance machine I used to eviscerate Dakota on. Roman clocks where we’re looking. “I don’t dance, Maya.”

“You do now,” I say, my grin wicked, stepping onto the platform. “And if I win, I get one wish.”

Roman groans, stepping up, his eyes narrowing at me. “That’s not even a fair one,” he mutters, but he’s in, already failing as the song starts. He’s completely off beat, his curses mixing with Brogan’s cheers. He doesn’t even stand a chance and I’m not sure how he’s this uncoordinated when he hits a puck with a stick. But bets are bets and I whirl around, pointing at the picture station.

“Picture with the creepy clown. Brogan, you too.”

Brogan groans, stumbling in that direction anyway. “I didn’t even play!” he protests but we cram in together anyway, Roman’s arm around me, Brogan’s shoulder brushing mine, and the flash catches us in a wild, silly moment, that’s all ours.

We spill out onto the street, the sky a lot darker than I’d thought it, laughter still bubbling between the three of us. We should head back for an early night because there’s practice in the morning but I’m too caught up in the moment to suggest that. Especially when Roman leans over, kissing my cheek, his lips sliding to sucking gently on my jaw, sparking heat that pools low in my belly.

A moan falls from my lips as Roman walks us backward until Brogan hits a wall, my back pressing to his chest. Roman’s hands cup my face, deepening the kiss, his tongue tracing mine as his scent starts to heighten, drowning me in a mixture of desire and need. His cock thickens against my belly, desire warring with the realization that we’re out here in public.

I push against his chest, eyes widening as a flash of cool air runs through me. “We can’t do this. Not here, ” I add to let Roman know that I want this but just not in public.

Brogan leans forward, his lips brushing my ear, sucking lightly, a shiver racing through me. “There’s a motel across the street,” he murmurs.

It’s a tempting option, my gaze darting to the dingy neon sign flickering— One Night Stay, Only $60 . Fuck, I want them, want this, but it’s new and raw, and I’m still learning to trust my body, my heart.

Roman’s eyes glint, his grin wicked but soft. “I’m game because the sounds I wanna get out of you aren’t ones I think are appropriate for school.”

I swallow, nervous, my eyes meeting Roman’s. I finally find my voice, bold despite the wobble. “You got $60?”

For a moment, we just pause there and then Roman’s tugging me across the street, the three of us digging into our pockets and dropping spare change on the counter. I’m pretty sure the woman there is wondering what we’re doing, Roman and Brogan alternating between kissing me and finding extra change. The woman looks through the crumpled up dollars and coins.

“Fifty cents short.”

I dig through my pockets again, finding two spare coins and I’ve never been so happy as to not clean out my pockets before washing them. “I found some!” I say, and we’re laughing again, the lady handing us a key to room 12 down the hall.

We tumble into the room, the door clicking shut, and Brogan’s already pulling off my jacket, my shirt, urgency in his touch, as he kisses me. I moan into his mouth, my hands gripping his shoulders before glancing at Roman, who’s watching us, his nostrils flared. He’s holding back, wary of being too much but I’m not worried about that. I step toward him, softening my voice despite the need coursing through me. “You’ll be okay,” I place a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “You won’t hurt me.”

Roman’s eyes flicker, want warring with fear, his new Alpha instincts trying to take over. “God, I want this but maybe it’s a bad idea.” His hands clench at his sides, his brows furrowing slightly but this is a step I want to take between the three of us. I’m not sure why but it feels right. I also don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for.

I smile, stepping closer, my fingers brushing his jaw. “We got you and we only need to go as far as you’re comfortable with.”

Roman laughs, a low growl threading through as he dips down to claim me with a kiss of his own, his tongue flicking across my bottom lip. “That should be words I’m saying to you, princess,” he rumbles before we’re back to tearing off clothes, shoes rolling across the carpet. Roman’s hands find my breasts, squeezing, massaging, his thumbs brushing my nipples, sparking heat that draws a gasp from my throat. He walks me backward, the bed creaking as I sink down, Roman on one side, Brogan on the other, their bodies sandwiching me between them, their cocks thick—one against my belly, one at the small of my back.

I reach down, wrapping my hand around Roman’s cock, feeling the thickened base in my palm. He lets out a low hiss, his knot fluttering beneath my touch.. “Keep going, it’s still really fucking sensitive.” His eyes are dark, pupils blown, a wild grin playing on my lips as I start massaging him slowly, his breath hitching with every pass over his knot.

Brogan nips behind my ear, his cock wedging into my pussy from behind, stretching me as he fills me completely. Another gasp falls from my lips as I continue to stroke Roman, the Alpha stealing my lips for another claiming kiss, swallowing my sounds. His hands find my breast again, kneading and massaging, drawing out more sounds from me. Their scent strengthen, overwhelming me in the best of ways, their touch alternating between sweet and hungry, possessive and passionate.

It’s a dance, a rhythm we’re finding, and I’m close, my body tightening as the pleasure builds, Brogan’s thrusts deepening as his breaths become more ragged, Roman’s cock pulsing in my hand, his knot swelling, fluttering, needing to fill something. I come apart, a cry breaking free, my body shuddering between them, and Roman follows, spilling over my hand and my thighs. Brogan’s next, spilling inside me, his hand tightening around my waist.

I sag against the sheets, Roman’s purr starting up but it’s a low rattle, not the smooth hum from before. Then his breathing hitches, his body tensing against mine before he scrambles from the bed, a snarl curling his lips as he grabs his cock. It’s already hard again, precum dribbling at the tip, his knot pulsating.

My heart lurches, pleasure fading to worry. “What’s going on?” I ask, pushing up on trembling arms, my body still buzzing from our climax.

Brogan shifts beside me, his hand on my hip. “What happened?” His gaze darting to Roman, who’s started pacing, his citrus scent boldening, turning almost spicy. My body responds, need flaring, the urge to come again drowning out everything else.

I climb from the bed on wobbly legs but stop dead, my eyes widening as that scent hits harder, my pussy clenching around nothing. “Roman, what’s going on?” Desire warrs with confusion, because he’s unraveling at the same time my body is craving more.

He turns, a possessive growl rumbling through the air, his cock throbbing in his fist. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

I frown, stepping closer, my bare feet silent on the carpet, trying to understand. Another growl rolls through him as he stalks toward me, eyes locked on mine. “Tell me it’s okay. Tell me I can be a little rough.”

“I’m not that fragile, Roman.”

That’s all it takes. He’s on me, leaning me back onto the bed, his cock sliding into my pussy, stretching me with a slow, deliberate thrust. I moan, loud, my nails digging into his arms as he grabs one of my legs, hooking it over his shoulder, my foot by his ear, opening me wider. He pumps in and out, slow at first, his eyes never leaving mine. I don’t know what this animalistic version of him is but I fucking love it.

Brogan climbs closer, moving to kiss me, his lips tracing my mouth, my jaw, grounding me as Roman’s rhythm shifts, harder, faster, a need to claim pulsing in every thrust.

I’ve never been fucked like this, my body scooting up the bed with each slam, the headboard rattling, my tits bouncing, sharp desperate moans swallowed by Brogan. Roman’s fingers dig into my waist, bruising but not painful, his snarls mixing with whines, like he needs this more than I do, like I’m his anchor, his release. Brogan’s nipping my ear, fingers slipping down my stomach and circling my clit.

My back bows off the bed as I shatter again, my pussy clenching around Roman’s cock, a scream tearing free as I come, hard, stars bursting behind my eyes.

Roman pulls out, but he’s not done, his breathing ragged, eyes wild with a need he can’t seem to satiate. He grabs my ankle, pulling me to the bed’s edge and flips me onto my stomach, my feet hitting the floor. He slides right back in, his pace relentless as pleasure spikes again, my hands fisting the sheets.

And then it clicks—Roman’s hesitation and this intensity. Something triggered his rut, maybe me, the newness of this. I don’t know but he’s fucking me like he’s claiming me, his knot swelling, pressing but not locking against my entrance.

When I come again, squeezing his cock, he’s still fucking into me, chasing his release. Some part of me fucking loves this version of him. The other part wants his knot.