Page 12 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus (The Exchange)

Murphy stretches back in his chair. Luke is sprawled out across the couch. He passed out a while ago, about the time Connor called it a night. Connor has an early meeting tomorrow, his loss.

Everly and I finish the tree and hang a string of lights around the patio railing. Murphy bitches and complains the entire time.

The damned Christmas music continues on in the background as Evie studies the tree. She wiggles back and forth in an adorably uncoordinated attempt at dancing… I think. Whatever it is, it's adorable and enticing. Her thick hips and generous ass sway, and I can't seem to look away.

Maybe I'm slightly more intoxicated than I realized.

I sway in time with Evie as I approach. My hands grip her hips. She tilts her head, grinning at me over her shoulder. I spin her to face me and pull her in close.

"Would you like to dance?" I murmur close to her ear as we sway.

"I think we already are," she whispers, clutching at my vest. The longer we shimmy the more she presses her soft frame into mine. I could definitely get used to this.

I'm absolutely enraptured. Her cheeks are tinged with a light blush. It could be the alcohol, but I don't think that's it. Our pheromones are thick in the air. She rests her cheek against my chest. I'm sure she can hear my heart thumping viciously against my rib-cage.

I've lived a lot of years, thirty-one to be exact, and I've never felt the type of warmth that fills my chest when Evie smiles at me.

Compatible pheromones are one thing, but as Evie has experienced they don't ensure a good long-term match. Generally speaking, though, things do tend to work out when one is as drawn to the other as I find myself feeling toward the omega currently stepping on my toes.

Murphy could get away with lifting her up and dancing her around our living room. He'd grunt and shrug, and she'd likely just accept it with a smile on her face. The bastard. I've never been jealous of Tom before, but I'm suddenly rather envious of the caveman.

Evie's small hand rubs over my chest while the other clutches my back. She's a very sensitive little omega. My hand slides a little lower on her back, and Murphy watches us carefully.

"I used to dance with my mother every Christmas.

It was her favorite time of the year," I murmur, trapped in the memories of what life was like before I lost my parents' pack.

"When I was a young boy, she'd pick me up and dance me around the living room.

As I got older she taught me where I should place my hands to be a perfect gentleman.

" I laugh, shaking my head. It's probably where my obsession with the subject comes from.

"Is your family still in Scotland?" Evie asks, tipping her face up to study mine.

I swallow thickly. "No, my mom and dads passed away in a car accident when I was fifteen. My Uncle Kiernan took me in. It's why my accent is so watered down."

"Archie," Evie gasps, her hands clutch me tighter. "Thank you for sharing that memory of your mom with me. I can tell it's special to you."

My eyes ache as I try to swallow around the rocks in my throat. I like that she doesn't offer her condolences. The words never help anyway.

"We should absolutely continue that tradition," she murmurs, running her hand over the back of my neck.

"I'd like that." My voice comes out shaky.

Evie continues stepping on my toes and snuggles her face close to my chest. My feet might ache tomorrow, but I'll deal with it.

Everly comes back from putting her wine glass in the sink.

She kicked off her shoes a bit ago, and I find her wiggly little toes to be adorable as she yawns and appraises the seating options.

I'm about to offer her the seat next to mine, when she walks over and stands in front of Murphy.

She opens her mouth, but it closes without speaking.

Murphy gives his chest a pat, and Evie lights up brighter than the Christmas tree. She climbs onto his lap, facing him, and snuggles in close to his throat. Murphy grins like he won the goddamn lottery.

As Everly tucks her compact frame closer to his body it becomes blatantly clear he'd choose her over the winning numbers. Her face cuddles close to his neck, and my heart races.

I don't care how dirty we have to play. That little omega is not going to another pack. Murphy palms the back of her head with his giant hand, and I catch the faint sound of a ragged purr.

Jesus Christ.

Tom Murphy is purring. Yeah, I'd like to see someone try to take that soft bundle of omega away from him.

His eyes meet mine, and I can see the truth of our situation reflected back at me. Everly is absolutely ours. And I play dirty when I'm playing for keeps.

Murphy holds Evie until she falls asleep in his lap. He spends the next hour softly purring and watching her like a total creeper. Then again, so do I. Meaning I can’t say much, pot and kettle and all that.

Tom finally stands. It's an arduous process, as he moves slowly to avoid waking Evie.

"Should we get her settled in the guest room?" I ask in barely more than a whisper.

Murphy shoots a murderous glare my way and growls. The sound sends a terrifying shiver down my spine. That sound basically says I'll bathe in your blood if you try to take her from me. My palms fly up, and I take a step back.

"Don't be growly," Evie mumbles, patting his chest. "I'm sleepy."

"Do you want me to carry you down to your suite?" he asks in a tone I've never heard come from him. It's soft and soothing, and weird as fuck to hear come out of his mouth.

"Nuh-uh," she says, wrapping her legs tighter around his frame.

"You can sleep with me," Murphy rumbles.

"Okay," Evie agrees, wiping at her eyes.

Murphy heads down the hall without a backwards look in my direction. I follow because I'm obviously not being left out of the cuddle pile.

"Grab her a shirt," Murphy says, nodding toward his dresser.

Ah yes, so he does know I'm here.

I follow instructions, grabbing one of his huge t-shirts out of the drawer.

"Arms up," Murphy says.

I spin around and freeze. Everly is allowing my packmate to remove her dress.

She sits on the edge of his bed. She's wearing an adorable Christmas-inspired bra and panty set.

Her breasts are huge, at least a full D-cup if I had to guess.

Her waist dips in slightly before widening into a set of thick hips and juicy thighs.

I clear my throat awkwardly and head over, handing Tom the t-shirt.

"I can't see much without my glasses," Everly mumbles, squinting like that might help.

"Right here, little one,” Murphy says, gently guiding her arms into the sleeves.

She's absolutely precious. I begin unbuttoning my shirt and quickly toss it over the chair in the corner. We've all had a bit too much to drink to push any boundaries tonight, but I'll be damned if I miss out on an opportunity to plaster my body to hers.

"I left your glasses in the living room," Murphy rumbles. "I'll grab them. You should have some water before you fall asleep, or you'll have a hell of a headache in the morning."

"Okay, thanks," Evie says, giving him a soft smile.

"Do you need the restroom?" Tom asks, and I barely hold back the bark of laughter. That man is dying to take care of someone.

"I'm good," Evie replies.

I handle removing my pants as Tom heads for the kitchen.

"Come on," I say, pulling back the thick blanket. "Next thing you know, he'll be complaining I've let you catch a cold."

Evie laughs. "He's a very sweet guy." I get her settled in the middle and climb in on the side that's usually empty.

Everly faces me. She squints as she studies my skin, and I smirk. My chest practically swells with pride as she examines my form.

"I wasn't expecting all that," she murmurs, running her cold hands over my bare flesh. Her fingers dance over the lines of my tattoos. "Not that I can make out all the details and intricacies, but wow, you're covered in ink."

"Mmm," I agree, pulling her close to my front. Her cold feet hit my legs, and I jolt. "For the love of God, maybe Tom should worry. You're frozen."

Everly laughs. The warm heat of her breath fans over my pecs. I shiver in response and will my cock to be the gentleman I know I am. Evie twists her leg, shoving her toes between my thigh and the mattress.

"I'll have to take turns warming them up," she whispers. Her lips ghost over my clavicle as she speaks. "I'm not limber enough to figure out how to warm both feet at once."

"Aw, lass, I'll warm your toes for you," I murmur, wrapping my hand around the foot that rests on top of my thigh.

"Thanks, Archie," she mumbles. My God, I want her like I've never wanted a woman.

Hearing her call me 'Archie' makes me yearn for her.

Her soft hand lands on my chest, rubbing tender circles, and I focus on breathing through my mouth.

She's entirely too potent for me to breathe in her scent right now.

"How do you feel about kids?" Evie asks, sleepily as she buries her face in my throat.

My cock throbs. "I quite like the idea of a yard full of them."

"Really?" she asks, pulling back and squinting at my face.

"Yes," I assure her, running a hand over the back of her head.

"Me too," she mumbles, snuggling closer.

Murphy comes back in. He sets down the water and Everly's glasses before stripping down to his boxer briefs. He climbs into bed, and Everly rolls over to face him.

"Sit up," Murphy instructs, holding out the bottle of water. Everly grumbles, but she listens. "That's a good girl."

Evie shivers, and stretches back to get comfortable. Her ass perfectly cups my cock as she faces Murphy.

"'Night, Archie," she says, wiggling back into me. My hand lands on her hip to settle her movements. I'm already half-hard from her pheromones and the talk of children.

"Good-night, lovely," I murmur against the shell of her ear.

Murphy flips off the light and stretches out.

"'Night, Tom," she mumbles, fluffing her pillow. Murphy scoots close and kisses her forehead. His eyes meet mine over her shoulder.

Everly Chastain doesn't realize it yet, but she's found her pack.