31. Meggie

31

Meggie

W e knew we needed to be at the top of our game to beat Greece, and 20 seconds left in the fourth quarter we're up 13-11. Greece has the ball, and I swim full speed after them, looking for an in. My body aches all over, and I feel hot and sweaty, which shouldn't be possible. Being in the chilly pool is the beauty of water polo compared to poor marathon runners, but right now the water feels anything but cold. Did they turn up the pool's heating?

I've never played this hard before. I push all of my strength into defending our goal. We've made it this far and have no intention of losing this game.

But it's hard to focus.

Ten seconds left.

The alpha I'm guarding kicks out of the water, rising so high the water only comes to his knees, and takes a shot over my head at the goal. Just as I try to block, a cramp hits my lower belly, and I crumple in on myself.

McQuinn saves us, catching the ball just outside the net.

The clock ticks down, and the buzzer sounds.

We won.

We actually won!

We're going on to the finals.

Gold or silver will be up to us.

After all of my work, everything I've done, all the parts of me I've put on hold and given up, I've done it. And not just on my own. It means even more that my team is with me. My pack.

The Americans in the crowd go wild, and my teammates are right there with them. Dr. Atkinson and the team staff scream their heads off from the sidelines, but Oz drowns them all out with his hollers. I'm smiling and crying at the same time. Everything I'm feeling is too much. Too strong and overpowering. The noises are too loud. My head, too hot. My body, throbbing.

I rip off my cap and let my wet hair loose under the water. It offers some relief to the burning in my cheeks, and when I lift back above the surface, I feel a little better.

We fist bump and high five the Greeks, congratulating them on a game well played as they make their way out of the pool, but I just want to get to my guys. They're close, but they feel too far away.

My eyes lock with Harrison's and he swims for me at full speed. My chest feels like it could explode into confetti as he comes towards me. I cling to the edge of the pool as he breaks his own rule and wraps me in his arms. Fuck, he feels good. His scent hits me right in the chest, shooting a pulse straight between my legs.

Not the time, Meggie.

"We did it!"

He's screaming into my ear, and I scream right back. I know this is only the semifinals, and we still have a medal to fight for, but I try to cement this memory into my brain forever. The noise of the crowd, the numbers on the scoreboard, the cold water around me, and the delicious feel of Harrison's body against mine.

I wrap my legs around him and whimper when his hard abs rub against my clit. He pulls back, his eyes wide with something other than excitement over our victory.

"Are you feeling okay?" His voice is quieter now, just for us.

"Yeah, I feel… hmmm." I tilt my hips and grind against him. "I feel… strange."

His hand cups my wet cheek and moves to the back of my neck. "You're burning up."

I tilt my head, confused. "I don't feel sick."

Just then, another cramp hits my belly. I whine. So empty. "I need…"

The rest of the guys reach us, surrounding Harrison and I in a group hug with hoots and hollers. This, this is what I need. All of my men, touching me. Thank god they're not holding to the no touching rule. I should stop worrying when they say they won't touch me. There's no way any of us can stay away from each other.

Nils and McQuinn are kissing, Oz gives me a tight squeeze, and Ellis looks like Dante hung the moon. I grab at all of them, wishing I had more arms to wrap around them. I need them closer. They all smell so good. So deliciously good.

But Harrison is still looking at me funny.

"What's wrong?" I smooth the crease between his eyebrows.

"I can scent you, love, and you smell..."

That's when I catch a whiff of myself. It's subtle, barely there, hidden beneath the scents of my alphas, the potent smell of chlorine, and the parade of scents from the crowd in the stands. But it's there if you know to look for it.

"Meggie's going into heat," Harrison says, just loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of our pack. The stadium is too loud, and we're huddled too close together for anyone to overhear or read his lips.

"No," I scoff, still breathing hard from the match. "I'm fine. Just hot from the game."

"She's just excited," Ellis says.

"It's the adrenaline," Nils suggests, looking less certain.

"She's probably just perfuming cause you've got your hand on her ass, old man." Oz shoves Harrison's shoulder.

"Smell her," Harrison snarls.

They all lean closer. One whiff is all it takes. Their protests stop. I still don't want to believe it, but as I run through the symptoms of a heat in my head, I can't deny that they're awfully close to what I'm feeling. I can't be certain, since I've never had one before, but I also can't dismiss it completely. "What are we gonna do?"

Harrison lifts himself out of the pool, then reaches down to help me up. "Stay close to me."

He shares a look with the other guys, and they all flock around me as we throw on our USA pants and shirts to stand beside the Greeks for their bronze medal ceremony—something the IOC initiated at the last Winter Olympics. They said giving all the medalists a ceremony of their own would be more celebratory and fair. It seemed like a fine idea to me before, but now, I'm wishing I could go back in time and protest.

Harrison tucks in on my right, with Dante on my left. Nils and McQuinn are slightly in front of me, while Oz and Ellis stand in the back. Like my own personal scent shield.

The longer we stand here, the more I feel like I'm in a furnace. I've never had a fever like this. It's not the kind of fever that makes me want to sleep. Instead, I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. I shift from one foot to the other, feeling itchy and lightheaded.

"Just a little longer, baby," Oz whispers, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I lean against him and feel a small sense of relief as his scent grows stronger.

I swallow back the whine I want to let loose.

"Don't worry, sunshine, we're gonna take care of you."

"You say that, but we're still standing here," I whisper back at Ellis through my plastered smile.

It takes for-fucking-ever as they hand out flowers and medals to the team, play their national anthem, and wave for the cameras. I'm not a bad sport, they deserve their moment, but the longer we stay here the more my need grows.

I still feel lucid, but I've heard horror stories about heats, and I have no way of knowing how much longer I'll be in control. All I know is I can't stand here much longer. My skin feels tight and hot and every touch is like being plugged into a socket. A jolt of electric pleasure that both soothes and makes the ache inside me more intense.

"I need…"

"I know, baby." Oz brushes my hair off my shoulder, his hand cool against my warm skin. "Just a little longer."

"Help me. Please, Oz." I no longer care that we're in front of a crowd of people. I don't care that everyone can see us. In fact… hmm… I think I might like that.

"No one is touching anyone in front of an international audience," Harrison says out the side of his mouth.

Thankfully, just then, the music starts and the ceremony ends. "Thank fuck!"

"Oh, you're going to be thanking me for fucking you, alright," Oz grins as he turns me around and kisses me.

Wrong move. It just makes me even more desperate. The area between my legs floods with slick and my skin burns like an inferno. I jump up and wrap my legs around him, holding tight, begging for more.

"We need to get her out of here," Harrison says. "And fast."