16. Meggie

16

Meggie

T he party is on the roof of an apartment building just outside of the village. I'm not sure how they got permission to have it up here—maybe they're more inclined to ask forgiveness than permission. I'm guessing they chose the place so they could have alcohol at the party, since it's not allowed inside the village. There's a bar set up in the corner with twinkle lights strung across it haphazardly.

"Can you believe it? We're really here." Hand clutching my arm, Emily gives a little giggle and jumps on her toes. "Our first Olympic party!"

"Ah! Pack Hart!" The guy who gave us the flier, Gabriel, greets us. He's wearing white pants and a white shirt, both covered in signatures and drawings. There's a frog with a cowboy hat and a roughly drawn alien taking up most of his abdomen.

"Good to see you, Gabe," Harrison claps him on the back.

"Take one, please, take one." He holds a bowl of brightly colored permanent markers out to us. "The person with the most signatures at the end of the night wins The Buckingham Phallus."

Gabe gestures to a spot at the end of the bar with a large dildo shaped like a queen of England, though I couldn't tell you which one. "Most countries here used to be under British rule," he acknowledges, "so using Her Majesty to get off would feel very healing, I'm sure."

The image of my Pack Hart men and playtime with sex toys jolts to the front of my mind. Do the guys use toys? Handcuffs, vibrators, plugs… things I don't have any personal experience with, but I'm sure they would give me an education if I asked. A stab of arousal swirls in my belly, but I force my attention back on the markers.

We each pick a color. Ellis grabs the bright pink and Dante goes for the USA red. Oz immediately starts drawing a pineapple on my shirt with his green marker, right over my breast. I smile good-naturedly at him as he looks up and meets my eyes. "Figure I should claim this spot so no one else does. Don't want Harrison going all caveman again." He takes his time drawing zigzags across my chest. "A fine-apple."

"I second that," Ellis says, adding his signature over my other breast in massive sprawling letters. The scrape of the markers over sensitive skin quickly kills my laugh and makes me shiver. I try to control the lust rising in my core with thoughts of paper cuts and the sound of dental tools. My blockers have been holding up well so far, but that doesn't mean they'll continue to work. I still need to be careful.

Nils draws a large circle on my shoulder and kisses my neck. "This is where I'm going to bite you, gorgeous."

"I need a drink." McQuinn marches towards the bar. He's been grumpy ever since Nils told him he wanted to sleep in the nest with me instead of in the other room with him. I hate that I'm coming between them, and that Nils has to make choices like that, but I'm not sure what to do about it. I want Nils with me—they should both be with me—but I can't exactly make McQuinn like me. All I can do is keep inviting him to stay in the nest, even if he keeps saying no. We'll see which of us is more stubborn.

"I want something, too." I go after McQuinn while the rest of the guys talk with Gabriel. Em comes with me, once again attached to my arm. She always feels better with a security friend, or a drink in her hand, at a party.

The guy behind the bar is the tall, tan beta who kept looking at Em when he and Gabriel handed out the fliers. I think Luke was his name. Or Lucas? Her eyes widen a little as she realizes it's him. He's just handing McQuinn a beer at the edge of the bar when we walk up, and his face brightens as his gaze lands on my best friend.

"You have an admirer," I whisper.

"Shush!" She glares at me. Em's not one for random hookups, but I can smell the way her scent brightens, and he's putting off some serious pheromones too. Especially for a beta. Most betas don't have very strong scents. But the two of them are both potent right now.

"Can I get a beer?" I ask.

"What kind?" He's still looking at Emily.

"What he's having," I say, slipping my arm around McQuinn's. Beer is gross, but I want a bit of connection with him, and I'm willing to drink his beer to prove it.

He glares down at me, but doesn't pull away. Progress.

"And you?" The bartender's voice is softer as he looks at Emily and leans across the makeshift table set up as a bar.

She responds too quietly to hear. I nudge her with my elbow, so she repeats herself. "A shot of vodka?"

He smirks. "Is that a question?"

"Um, no. We both want shots of vodka." She gives me a pleading look. I don't usually like doing shots, especially this close to a game, but it'll make Emily feel better and one shot shouldn't be a problem. I take the little glass he hands me and we both count down to three before throwing it back. Emily giggles as she sets the empty shot down, nearly knocking The Buckingham Phallus over in the process.

"You're Emily, right?" He asks, righting the prized dildo.

I smile, give her a thumbs up, and pull McQuinn away. "Come on, let's give them a minute. Plus, you still need to sign my shirt." I spin the marker in my hand and hold it out to him.

"I have my own, remember?" He shakes a black marker at me. A smile almost breaks past his grumpy demeanor.

"Where do you want it?" I smirk, intentionally putting a little purr into my voice.

McQuinn's jaw flexes. With one hand on my shoulder and the other holding both the head of the beer bottle and the pen, he spins me so my back is to him. Still holding my shoulder, he writes something right along the top of the shirt at the base of my neck. The cold bottle pumps against me as he writes, creating chills that match the shivers caused by his touch. His breath rustles the hair at my nape, warm and inviting. His scent thickens around me like the warmth of the sun on a summer's day. Wedges of citrus sucked before licking salt from skin and shooting back shots of tequila that warm stomachs and lower inhibitions.

"There," he says. The thumb of the hand on my shoulder drags slowly across the skin at my neck.

"What did you write?" I move my hair to the side, twisting to see what he wrote even though I know I won't be able to.

"It's nothing. Just my name." His voice is gravely and low.

I turn all the way around to face him, my palms coming to his chest. "I like the idea of your name on me, your mark."

The music fades from the background. All there is in this moment is McQuinn and me. The flex of his muscles under my hands, the hit of his breath. His eyes darken, and I see the same lust I'm feeling reflected back at me. I want to kiss him so badly it feels like a physical ache. Without thinking, I lift on my toes, trying to close the distance between us.

He leans closer, licks his lips, and… a glass breaks somewhere behind us. McQuinn clears his throat and steps back.

Not wanting to show how much his withdrawal hurts, I glance around the space, taking in the crowd of people in white clothing. "Do you see many people who were at the last Olympics?"

"Some."

"Introduce me."

He looks down like he's trying to decide something, then sighs, leading me to a group nearby. If I had to guess, I'd say they're runners, from the lean muscles and long legs.

"But she's a beta, so really, what did I expect?" An alpha woman with sleek black hair is laughing at her own story, but the others around her seem reluctant to join in.

"That's pretty fucked up," says a guy with blonde hair and an Eastern European accent before he takes a swig of his beer and shoots her a furrowed brow. The short Black man and the Asian woman beside him wear matching uncomfortable expressions.

"Oh, come on," the female alpha whines. "We're all alphas here. Let's call a spade a spade."

Is she purposely choosing to ignore the beta woman standing right next to her, or can she really not tell?

I catch the set of McQuinn's jaw and note the awkward posture of the others.

"Betas are fun, but alphas are unarguably superior. There's a reason there are more alphas at the Olympics than betas, and omegas aren't even allowed. The games belong to us." She finally notices that McQuinn and I joined their huddle, and turns her focus on us. "Don't you agree?"

I don't know what the story was before we walked up, but based on what I've heard, I don't like this woman one bit. I take a breath, prepared to put her in her place, but McQuinn speaks before I can make a sound.

"Actually, I think alphas can be arrogant, hot-headed, egotistical, domineering, and dismissive. And some of the best athletes I know aren't alphas at all." McQuinn flashes his best fake smile and extends his hand to shake hers. "I'm McQuinn, and what bug crawled up your ass and died?"

The female beta chokes on her drink and the blonde man gives McQuinn a hearty slap on the back. "Amen, brother!"

"Leave it to McQuinn to say it straight." The shorter man throws an arm around my teammate. Dark skin contrasts with McQuinn's light freckled shoulders, which are on display in the white tank-top he's wearing. It's clear this is who McQuinn already knew and why he chose to join this group.

The pissy alpha wears her irritation plainly on her face as she pinches her lips and quirks a brow. "I'm just saying that—"

"I'm sure you were saying something super fucked up and exclusionary that would cost you a sports drink endorsement deal if people heard you saying it." McQuinn, my equality hero. I've never heard him speak up for beta or omega rights. He was the most against me joining the team—and the pack—but here he is, putting this bitch in her place for me.

"I'm guessing you come from a pack of alphas?" McQuinn continues. "You don't have an omega? Or did you just hit the bitch branch on the way down when they kicked you out of the family tree?"

"There you are," Ellis says, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my middle. "We were looking for you."

"Want to dance, beta ." Dante's smile is full as he looks at me, and I love the shock on the alpha woman's face at his words. Clearly she's so self-absorbed she didn't even take a second to pay attention to the designations of the people she was talking to before she spewed her propaganda.

McQuinn turns to the man who still has his arm around him. "Wanna help me win a dildo? Figure you've got more connections than anyone else here, having been to the last three games."

The other man seems more than eager to leave his current company. "If you'll excuse us."

McQuinn nods his goodbye to the group, passing protective alpha custody of me over to Dante and Ellis. I want to say something to him, but he's lost in the crowd before I can catch him.

I let Dante and Ellis lead me away from the group, to the other side of the rooftop where the hosts have set up a DJ and dancing.

Dante positions himself in front of me, his hands lightly trailing up and down my hips. Ellis stays behind me, and I lean back into him, enjoying his warmth and the strength of his hard body moving with mine. Secured between the two of them, surrounded by their combined scent, all the tension of the previous conversation melts out of me. I feel safe, supported, desired. A little buzzed from the alcohol and the summery perfection their scents transport me to.

"I should have known you'd be a great dancer," Dante says, lips close to my ear.

"Why's that?"

"You move so well between us." Ellis grinds into me from behind. I moan as Dante moves closer. He places his hands on Ellis's hips behind me and presses so close I can feel the hot hardness of him against my stomach. He kisses Ellis over my shoulder and then moves his lips to mine.

As we dance, they touch me everywhere, each kissing one side of my neck, making my stomach flutter with need. I throw my head back on Ellis's shoulder and Dante gently bites the front of my neck. Not hard enough to break skin, but enough to make my knees weak and… shit .

I need to get out of here.

I'm perfuming straight through my blockers. It's subtle, but my thighs are slick, and there's the slightest hint of green apple in the night air. If this continues, we're going to be in serious trouble. Dante's eyes widen a second before I fling myself to the side, away from them, breathing hard.

My gaze flies around the rooftop, trying to see if anyone else noticed. No one is paying any attention to us. Yet. No one except Harrison. He's marching towards us with a burning look in his eyes that almost makes me recoil. My already spiked terror mixes with the natural omega need to cower before that much raw alpha energy.

"We need to leave." Dante's voice is low in my ear. His hand comes to the small of my back, pushing me forward, the touch burning through the light fabric of Harrison's t-shirt and right to my already tingling skin. My perfume comes in stronger.

"Get away from her," Harrison half-barks.

"We need to get her out," Ellis replies.

"Not you. You've done enough already." Harrison is a ball of tense anger, and I whimper as I sink away from him.

"He's right," Dante puts his arm around Ellis, pulling him away from me. I look from one of them to the other, the omega side of me begging to curl into them or climb them like the horny bitch she is. It's like I've opened some kind of dam on my sexuality and now I can't shove it all back down anymore.

Harrison looks about ready to kill Ellis and Dante for making me perfume through my blockers, but he's right, leaving with them won't help things. I take a step towards Harrison. The movement of my legs makes a wave of baked apples and cinnamon hit the air, causing Harrison to growl, throw me over his shoulder, and half runs towards the stairs.

A few of the athletes around laugh and make teasing remarks as we charge out of the party. Harrison ignores all of them.

This is the first time he's really touched me since… the time he almost bit me. I shudder, but it's no longer from fear. His grip on my bare thighs is hot and heavy, and I imagine that touch other places on my body. Hanging upside down, I let my hands run up and down his back and sides. How long will it be before I can touch him like this again?

Harrison curses and flies down the stairs two at a time. He bursts out onto the street, but doesn't head towards the Olympic Village. His head swivels as he walks. "We need to get you some scent neutralizing spray."

I know he's right, but the blood is all rushing to my head, the alcohol is still thrumming through my veins, and my arousal is still peeked. Plus, Harrison is holding me. Harrison, my alpha. My pack alpha is finally touching me. I don't want it to stop. I want more.

With a shaky breath, I trail the waistline of the light brown pants he's wearing with my fingers. I can't tell if the noise that comes out of him is a bark, a growl, or a moan. Pleasure tightens my core, and I squirm, trying to rub my thighs together while thrown over his shoulder. My scent surges, flooding the air.

"Fucking apples," Harrison says with an unmistakable groan. I look up and over my shoulder. He nuzzles his nose into the side of my lifted ass. I whimper, imagining him biting me right there.

"Bite me," I beg, grabbing his ass over his pants and squeezing, loving how he feels in my hands.

The breath swooshes out of me as I suddenly land on my feet, pressed up against a brick wall in a narrow, dark alley. Harrison grabs my wrists and slams them over my head. I'm caught like an animal looking up at a predator.

"You want my bite, Meggie? Is that what you want?" He snarls, so out of character. "You want to drop out of the Olympics, ruin our chances, put yourself and us in danger from the accusations Daniel could make? Is that what you want?!"

Fear and arousal fuse in my muddled senses. I can't think straight. I blink, surprised to find tears in my eyes.

"Is that what you want?!" A second after he yells the question, his lips crash into mine, a hurricane, dragging me up into the turmoil, stealing all control. My insides liquify. I feel this kiss in every nerve ending in my body. Everything is on fire.

Just when I don't think I can take anymore, when I'm ready to toss it all for one moment of pleasure with him, he flings himself away from me, pressing his back against the wall on the other side of the alley.

We're both breathing hard, staring at each other with a silent dare, at war with ourselves. He breaks eye contact first, pulling out his phone and typing something.

"There's a pharmacy around the corner."

I follow a few steps behind him. We don't talk about what happened. We don't talk at all. But my fingers press my lips as if trying to seal his kiss there. And I know, when we finally give in to each other, it's going to be life-altering.