39. Meggie

39

Meggie

M y nipples are hard, and my nerves are now fucked.

Oz scowls at Harrison as he leaves, then turns his glare on me. Trying to pull my wits back together, I smooth the blanket on my lap and avoid looking at the ticked off man who just entered. It isn't quite anger on his face, but he feels volatile. I can't tell what I'm about to be dealing with after what almost happened with Harrison.

Oz glances toward the empty spot beside me on the couch, but then storms across the room to the desk and throws himself into the chair. Kicking his perfect white sneakers up on the desk, he leans back and gives me the full weight of his frustrated scowl.

"Practice today was shit." There's a bite to his words.

Harrison said as much, but given the furrow of Oz's brows, I decide it's safer if I keep my lips sealed and let him talk it out. He put the large wooden desk between us by sitting over there, and I can't pretend the distance doesn't sting.

"Jackie fucking sucks."

I give a brief nod and keep my focus on him. I'm not afraid of his frustration, but I don't know what happened today that's causing such big feelings from my men. My men. Oh.

I need to watch thoughts like that. I shouldn't be making assumptions.

"I'm mad at you." His words are blunt. "You come to tryouts and get a fucking bloody nose, but you rally and keep going. You're so driven. You work so damn hard. And then you move in here with your little smiles and your cinnamon toothpaste and your tea kettle. And you dance with me and let me cook you breakfast. And you were lying to us the whole time!"

My gut feels twisty, like I ate a toilet frog. It doesn't feel good to sit in that truth, but he's right. I lied to all of them.

His eyes narrow as he evaluates me. "That wasn't a date you went on."

"No," I shake my head.

"He was your dealer? Your supplier?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"How did you even find that guy? Where does he get those from? How can you know they're safe and he didn't mess with them?" Dropping his feet to the floor, leaning forward with elbows on the desk, his brows remain furrowed.

"A friend of a friend, a couple years ago. He's been my supplier this whole time and they've always been safe—"

"Even buying them isn't safe!" He raises his voice, then checks himself. "You could get arrested for being around him. Who knows what else he's dealing. Possession? Knowingly and illegally possessing a controlled substance like that—a Schedule II substance—you could go to jail for a decade, Meggie."

I know it's illegal, but I've never looked up precisely what laws I've been breaking or their consequences. I probably should have, but part of me didn't want to know. It was easier to pretend what I was doing was okay if I didn't know.

How na?ve have I been? I feel like a child being scolded by my principal for cheating, and I guess, in a lot of ways, I am. My stomach turns and my cheeks burn with embarrassment and shame.

"I stole a car."

The air whooshes from my lungs at Oz's sudden confession.

"I was eighteen and had some stupid friends that did a lot of stupid shit. So I started to do stupid shit, too. And I stole a car." Oz studies the backs of his tattooed hands as he talks. "I got caught, and my big brother took the fall for me. He had a record already and didn't want me to make the same mistakes. He did a year in jail for it."

Sitting here, my shame fresh and raw, I can imagine exactly what it would feel like to have someone take my blame on themselves, the guilt that would create.

"It fucked me up for a while. I stopped talking to all those people. I moved away, came here to live with my aunt. That's when I met Harrison." There's a tug at the corner of his lips, but he won't give in to the tiny smile. "He's such a good guy, such a good man. Where I was in my life…"

Oz looks out the window, like he's seeing an old memory play out on a screen in front of him. "Harrison pulled me out of it. We stayed friends for a bit, then drifted apart, then our lives collided a little over a year ago. Being part of this pack is everything to me, Meggie. I try really hard not to be stupid anymore. And then you bring illegal blockers and illegal suppressants into this house, into my damn home, and you put every single one of us at risk."

He glares directly at me, and I can't look away.

"And you know what sucks the most?" He lets out a little laugh, but there's no humor in it. "What sucks the most is how all I can smell right now is you! And you smell so goddamn good. All I want to do is have you straddling me on that damn couch, riding me until you come on my cock. And then do it again."

A heat blooms in my core that mixes with the guilt in my stomach.

"I don't break the rules, Meggie." His focus is wholly locked on me. "But if this comes down to a vote, I'm voting for you."

I can't hide the shock on my face and my jaw falls open.

"Athletically, you're our best shot. Personally, you're best for the pack." His hand flexes and he begins to crack his knuckles. "Sexually, you're all I can think about."

The heat in my core throbs, but that guilt remains. I did something bad, and that shame lingers for the way I was dishonest to these wonderful men.

An idea pops in my head. A horrible, awful, great idea.

"I'm sorry." I keep my words soft.

Oz lets out a little huff of an exhale in acknowledgement of my apology.

A horrible, awful, great idea. I've never been the femme fatale type—is femme fatale even the right word, seductress?—but I know Oz is different from his other pack mates. We could work this out in a way that speaks to Oz. It might be amazing in the end. Might show him how I truly feel, and how much he means to me.

"I'm sorry, sir."

My scent blooms as I say the honorific, and I can tell the second Oz smells it. His deep inhale, the way his brows draw together, questioning.

"I've been bad. Really, really bad."

The regret that tinges my voice is genuine, so is the shame, even if I am playing a part. I never meant to hurt any of them.

Taking his elbows off the desk, Oz leans back in the chair but doesn't speak.

"Such a bad girl," I add.

That does it. The hit of his scent mingles with mine and the air in the office feels electric. Summer thunderstorms and spicy cinnamon. Running out of the rain into the warmth. Soaking wet. I'm so fucking wet.

"I'm not happy with you, Miss Harper." His tone is deep. Yes , my thoughts scream. Yes! Play with me, Oz. His fingers drum on the wood of the desk. "You've broken the rules."

Standing from the couch, I try to hide my glee. Play the part. I bite my lower lip and shoot my best helpless doe eyes at him.

"I never meant to hurt you, sir." Bolder than normal, I walk to Oz and stop right before his feet. "Is there anything I can do? I'll wash your motorcycle or shine your shoes, anything to make you happy." My words sound desperate.

"So eager, Miss Harper. This pleases me." His gaze rakes over my body and my nipples tighten in response. "Will you accept your punishment?"

Punishment . A wave of heat floods my core, and I whimper, a low growl coming from Oz in response. "Yes, sir."

"Clothes off. Now."

I knew the path I was leading us down, but my cheeks flame at the gruff order. His hands on the arms of his chair, Oz's gaze is unwavering. I start with my shirt, tossing the cotton tee on his desk… an offering. Then my sweatpants. Then my bra. And last, I slide off my panties and place them on top of the little pile.

He watches each movement with heavy eyes as his scent blooms.

The blinds are open in the office, and the door to the hallway, too. Anyone of the guys could walk by and see, and the thought makes me hotter.

Standing naked before him in nothing at all while he's fully clothed, his hungry gaze soaking me in, I feel naughty in a way I never knew could be so erotic. I have to squeeze my thighs together to keep my slick from dripping down my legs.

"Good girl." His praise makes me want to moan, and he hasn't even touched me yet. "You take orders well."

My thighs clench, stomach hollowing. I feel vulnerable and powerful all at once. And so deeply desired.

Shifting in his chair, Oz stands and taps the edge of the desk. "Hands here, Miss Harper."

I obey quickly, placing both of my hands where he showed me.

"Feet here." He points to a spot a big step back from where I'm currently standing. I have to bend all the way over to stand where he wants and keep my hands on the desk. It puts my ass fully on display.

The air conditioning kicks on and goosebumps pebble my bare skin. But I shiver more from the attention of the man behind me than that cool air.

"Very good." His hand is feverish as he touches my shoulder, then follows the slope of my back down. "Have you been spanked before, Miss Harper?"

"No," I gasp. Oh god, I'm so wet.

I broke the rules, lied to people I care about, and I want to be punished. I think it'll make both of us feel better. But this is a completely new sexual experience for me, and even though I'm dying for it, I can't keep my legs from shaking a little. I'm at war with myself. My shame and arousal wanting the punishment. My mind, a little frightened of the pain.

Leaning close, his body heat warms my side. "If it's too much, baby girl, say ‘cinnamon'."

I moan as his whisper tickles my ear. Even in this game, Oz is his brand of a gentleman and gives me a safe word. Me, his baby girl.

The smack on my ass lands without warning, and I gasp, jerking away on instinct. But his hands grab my hips and keep me in place. He rubs the spot he spanked, and the caress is heaven. "One."

The second spank lands in the same spot, but this time, I moan. "Two. You're doing so well, Miss Harper."

My last name was never sexy until today.

Oz spanks me again, and again. Three. Four. Five.

"So delicious red." He caresses my ass, hips and thighs, before delivering another smack on my cherry bottom. "Six."

I brace for number seven and would welcome it, but it doesn't come.

"Harrison, Dante, Ellis, Nils, McQuinn, and me. One for each of us, Miss Harper." Hearing him say his pack mate's names while I'm naked and wet does something to me. This room may never smell the same again after we're done.

Reaching for my hand, he raises me from the desk and pulls me into him. His kiss is wild, hungry, and demanding.

"Meggie…" His tongue explores my mouth like he owns it, and I submit to everything.

"You're going to be the death of me, Miss Harper." I can feel his smile against my lips, but then it's gone as he kisses over to my ear and sets his tongue to explore there.

I'm a writhing, moaning mess against him. Swooping down, Oz grabs my thighs and scoops me up to deposit me on the desk. "I need you."

His hands on my hips, he scoots me to the edge of the smooth wood. I'm grabbing him everywhere I can reach, tugging at his shirt, yanking on the waistband of his shorts to keep him close to me.

"Have me." My hands in his hair, I bring his lips back to mine. "Take me."

His growl is louder, more alpha. "I've pictured our first time together a million times. I get off thinking about you every night, every shower. My every morning wood is about you. I want to eat you out on the edge of the pool, fuck you on the kitchen island, lay you down in rose petals and drink champagne out of your pussy."

Yanking his shirt up, Oz chucks it across the room. My fingers eagerly reach for his inked flesh.

"But never did I get to this… Spanking you in here, having you on the desk. Fuck. I want to be a gentleman," his shorts and boxer briefs join the pile of discarded clothes, "buy you flowers, say the sweet words, I'd be that guy for you."

"I don't want that guy." My voice is breathy. I'm so hot I could combust. "I want you."

His growl is sharp against my neck before he claims my lips again. "You have me. You see me."

Gripping his shoulders, I pull him against me. The heat of him is overwhelming. So big and strong and wild. I grind my hips against his cock, desperate for what I want.

"Oh Meggie, and I see you." Fisting his hand in my hair, he gives a sharp tug and bares my neck as he pulls my head back. "I know why you did what you did, but you're never doing stuff like that again, understood?" He nips the tender flesh along my neck and collarbone. The slight pain in my scalp is new, and I fucking love it. "I'll get your suppressants for you. I'll get your blockers. Don't put yourself in fucking danger like that again, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

His teeth hit my nipple, and I buck off the desk. Releasing my hair, he slides a hand between my legs and into me. "If I was a better man, I'd take my time. Finger you until you come. Lick you until you come again."

He buries his head into my hair, inhaling my scent as I writhe on his fingers. Wrapping my hand around his cock, I squeeze the length of him and relish his deep moan. "I don't want a better man. I want you, Oz. Sir. Daddy."

His groan can probably be heard in the dining room as he removes his fingers and positions his cock between my legs. "Look at me."

I obey immediately, drawing my eyes away from where our bodies are about to join to meet his gaze. His self control is better than I'd have imagined as he slowly presses forward.

Wrapping my legs around him, I pull him in, all the way to his swelling knot. My moan is long and loud. "So good. Oz, you feel so fucking good."

"Mmm," he pulls back and returns, still slow and deep. "I fucking love it when you curse."

I gasp as he leans back, changing the angle and staring at the place where we're joined, where he vanishes inside me.

"Fuck me, Oz."

His groan rumbles his chest.

"Your cock feels so good. You make me so wet, make my body feel so good."

His next thrust isn't slow. His knot kicks against my opening, so massive it rubs against my clit.

"Yes, fuck, just like that." I've never been the dirty talker much before, but knowing how I amp him up is a heady drug. His next thrust takes my words away, and he stills deep inside me.

"I can't go slow, Meggie." His voice is shaky.

"Don't go slow." I kiss him anywhere I can reach, squeezing his hips with my legs.

"I can't be gentle." His hands flex on my waist.

I shift back to find his eyes and grin. "Don't be gentle."

With a groan that makes my pussy clench, he pulls back and slams into me, knot and all. His hands on my hips keep me on the edge of the desk and right where he wants. Locked inside me, his shallow thrusts grind against my inner walls. It's not slow, and it's not gentle, but I love every second of it.

"Yes! Yes, that's it. Harder! Fuck me harder. Punish—"

I crash over the edge, screaming his name loud enough the whole house can hear, and he follows with a roar, slamming impossibly deeper inside me, extending my orgasm into a second wave of pleasure.

Afterwards, he sinks into the desk chair with me straddling his lap. We sit there, sweaty and panting, holding on to each other until the heartbeat thundering in my chest calms. I plant little kisses along the tattoos on his shoulders. Someday I'll ask him the significance of each one, but not tonight. Tonight, I just want to hold him, and have him hold me.

"You're a very good girl, Miss Harper." Oz brushes my nose with his. "A very good girl."