Page 35 of Unbonded (Pack’s Companion #3)

The next few days fly past in a blur of rehearsals, design projects, movie nights, and mind-melting sex.

It’s just my luck to have hooked up with two athletes in their prime, who also happen to be overachievers.

I’m not sure what record they’re competing for, but I’m guessing it’s the number of orgasms they can wring out of me, on as many surfaces as possible, in the widest variety of rooms. A kind of kinky Cluedo, where they’re going to murder me with pleasure, probably in the kitchen, (since that seems to be their room where their appetites are always raring to go), and most definitely while wielding their very talented tongues.

The climax, unsurprisingly, happens over the dining table.

Lachlan has revealed a hidden talent for cooking that he inherited from his French omega mother, and his Chicago-born Italian father.

He also explains that his nickname – Cookie – is actually the way his Italian name of Cucchi is pronounced.

His great-grandfather simplified the spelling when he arrived in America, but Lachlan assures me he comes from a long line of very dedicated cooks.

It’s just another reason for me to salivate over him, and on Wednesday night, I can’t resist a little sample as he puts the finishing touches on our dinner.

It starts with me nibbling on his scent gland.

It’s small, like all beta glands, but the tiny ridge on his neck is so sensitive it should come with a warning label.

A few well-placed licks and he grinds me into the counter, his thick thigh wedged between my legs as he plucks at my nipples with his free hand.

Since our picnic in the nook, full attire has been optional, and his hands cup my ass under my oversized shirt.

It’s one of his old football jerseys, and I think he might be living out a college fantasy as he pushes my thong aside and sinks a finger knuckle deep.

“Talk about a food fetish,” Dash purrs, coming up beside us to kiss my flushed neck. “Carry her over to the table, QB. I want a taste as well.”

The guys exchange a knowing grin, since a similar scenario played out at breakfast, although the chocolate sauce in Dash’s hand is a new feature.

When we reach the dining table, my clothes are abandoned in favor of the sugary fingerprints they paint on my body in teasing swirls.

Nothing is spared – they coat every rib and draw circles around my navel.

Dash adorns my nipples in the chocolate glaze, only for Lachlan to suck it off until I’m raw and panting.

I want more fingers, more tongues, more everything , but the food is ready, and we fall on Lachlan’s meal like we haven’t been stuffing ourselves for three days straight.

“Do you think it’s always going to be like this?” Lachlan asks as he serves me another helping of steaming mussels in a buttery sauce. It’s insanely tasty, but I pause to study his face. “I just mean, this is fun . I always thought fooling around with an omega would be…”

Dash casts me a knowing look. “High maintenance?”

Lachlan rubs his chin with a laugh. “Nah. You should know by now that I don’t mind working for your affections. I just thought it would be intense in a different kind of way. Like I’d always be worried that I wasn’t satisfying you the way you deserved.”

He says this last part staring straight at me, and I don’t hesitate to drop my spoon and crawl into his lap.

I don’t think Lachlan has a hang-up about his designation, but he definitely puts too much pressure on himself.

The bar with my ex, after all, is about as low as you can get.

“I don’t want you to doubt yourself. Ever.

” I cup his cheeks, staring deep into his soft brown eyes.

“These last few days have been the happiest of my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing. ”

“Ditto,” Dash says, leaning over to kiss both of our cheeks before wagging his brows. “And remember, intense means we care, while fun means we’re doing it right.”

I grin, because that sums it up perfectly. A mind-melting connection that leaves a dopey smile on your face.

“And what about your heat?” Lachlan asks carefully, his fingers brushing my messy locks off my face. “Any more ideas on that?”

As I gather my thoughts, Dash dips a fry in his garlic sauce and waves it under his nose. “Still want to auction her off to a pack of strangers, QB?”

“No,” Lachlan growls, snapping up the fry and nipping Dash’s fingers in the process.

“Although, while the heat auction is off the table, Safe Haven can still help.” I look at him curiously and he starts scrolling through the iPad he uses to record his recipes.

“It might be worth talking to one of our heat coordinators. I had a chat – no names mentioned, of course – and she came up with a few ideas…”

“Oh my God!” Dash snatches the tablet out of his hands, his eyes wide as he scans the screen. “Is this a heat vision board ?”

“Um…”

“Oh, Cookie .” Dash slides an arm around Lachlan’s neck, his eyes soft with affection. “If I wasn’t already crazy about your low-cal pasta sauces, I’d fall for you in a snap .”

He’s close enough for our cheeks to brush, and I watch, fascinated, as he claims Lachlan’s mouth until we’re all squirming in our seats. When their kiss finally breaks off, I reach for the iPad. “Can I see this vision board?”

“It’s just some ideas…” Lachlan clears his throat, sounding a little sheepish, but I’m already scrolling.

Along with a vision board, he’s used those savvy marketing skills he developed in college to put together a presentation, each slide dedicated to a different aspect of my heat.

He’s clearly done a ton of research, going so far as to list the recommended fabrics for sensitive nests, and the best dishes to prepare for energy-sapped omegas.

When I’m done, I try to hide my face in his neck, but he tips my head back, studying my damp cheeks. “Are you crying? Oh, damn. I’m sorry, Katie. I know it’s not the same as your past heats…”

“No!” I almost drop the iPad in my haste to disabuse him of that idea. “I’m not sad; I’m so freaking happy . Lee’s version of planning was telling me to cue up his favorite playlist and to stock the mini fridge with Dr. Pepper. This is so beautifully thoughtful, Lachlan.”

He gives a relieved sigh, his thumbs swiping away my tears. “I’ve had a lot of years to think about it, and I want to make sure everything is perfect.”

I feel a quiver of anxiety that he might be the one who’s disappointed, but the iPad suddenly chirps with an incoming call, and I look at him in surprise. “You’ve been video-chatting with Corbus?”

A hint of color stains his high cheekbones. “He just likes to check in.”

Hmm. That’s something I’d like to explore more, but an up-scale hotel room is materializing on the screen, and I quickly scramble back into his jersey.

When my head pops through the top, Corbus is sitting on a silk chaise that could be straight off a Bridgerton set, an elegant vase behind him, and a rose-patterned tea cup at his elbow.

He’s still in his suit, even though it’s the middle of the night in Belgium, although he’s removed his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt.

I’m a little distracted by the golden column of his neck, and it doesn’t help when Dash skips his fingers down my spine in a teasing caress.

“Great timing, Alpha. We were just making plans for Kate’s next heat. ”

Next heat, not last, and for a moment I can dream that’s not just a slip of the tongue.

“Any updates you want to share?”

If I hadn’t had that chat with Corbus before he left, I might take his cool tone as disinterest. But there’s no mistaking the curiosity glittering in his eyes as they skip over our faces.

“Lachlan has been doing a ton of research,” Dash replies, then taps the iPad.

“Sending the presentation your way now. Let us know if you and Bram want to add anything before we go on our spending spree.”

I bite my lip, my unhappy bank balance flashing a lot of zeros in front of my eyes. Bram said he was updating my employment contract, but at this stage, I’m still surviving on my wage from Sweet Eternity. “Spending spree?”

“Well, we can do better than Dr. Pepper and the top ten tracks to fuck to,” he says waspishly, his disdain for my ex leaking from every pore. He turns back to the screen, a glimmer of challenge in his eyes. “Corbus, have you decided which bedroom you want us to use, or is it omega’s choice?”

I stare wide-eyed as Corbus taps his fingers on the perfect pleat of his cashmere trousers. “Wherever you’re comfortable, of course. Just make sure you purchase a suitable nest. I believe Daniel Rose has a new catalog out, if you want me to make a call.”

A House of Omega nest? I’m pretty sure they retail for upwards of five figures, and that’s just for the base. Furnishing them is a whole other delicious expense.

Corbus has an iPad of his own on his knee and starts tapping the screen. “In fact, I’ll ask Daniel to set up a tour of their new bedding line. It’s not officially launched yet, but I’m sure they will appreciate your feedback.”

I almost choke, because test-driving a pre-launch brand is better than winning the lottery for a designer, but I can’t resist asking, “Could we do that when you get back? It would be nice to do that as a group.”

I can’t quite use the word pack , but Corbus’ gaze sharpens as he looks up at me.

I wonder if I’m overstepping, since this will be Dash’s nest, long after my heat is over.

But instead of objecting, Dash leans down to nuzzle my earlobe.

“Hmm, clever omega. That’s one way to get their asses back home ahead of schedule. ”

I click my tongue at him – since it wasn’t my intention, even if it gets my vote of approval – but he’s flashing a smile at the screen. “I think it’s a great idea to do it as a pack, although we’d love to get some previews of the catalog.”