TEN

Jaxson

GLANCING AROUND AT the old brick walls surrounding us, I wonder if they're engineered to bow outward in order to accommodate the mass of rowdy fight fans all crammed into this tiny Irish bar, waiting to congratulate Jimmy. They must be breaking fire codes. I peer over at Ethan because he probably knows.

I'm horny as hell after sharing energy with Billie, and all I want to do is fuck my mate. Turning to see around one of the dark wooden pillars, I spot her where we left her, in the middle of the high booth in the corner of the main bar. However, there's an addition that wasn't there before: Enzo, with one arm slung over the back of the bench where she's sitting. His other hand is below the table or on the bench or... just somewhere where I can't see. Both of them are sitting close, very close, and turned toward each other. And fuck, his face, the look on his face as he talks with her. No walls up. No tightness in his jaw or brows. No, he's completely open. Hell, he's almost glowing with bright eyes gazing deeply into hers, and the smile on his lips never wavers. Even his body is relaxed. Total trust. True intimacy. And all that emotional growth I was so impressed with myself about? Poof, gone. I rip my gaze from them and look ahead.

We've been slowly making our way to the actual bar to order a round of beers, and have somehow found ourselves surrounded by females. Females that are high on the energy of a win for a local celebrity. Females that have been partaking in plenty of celebratory drinks and shots. Females who are a little bolder with a loss of inhibition. Females who are sizing each other up as competition, having no idea we're shifters and are completely taken—fucking bonded—to our true-mate.

Growing up in the White Mountains, we've only been down to Boston a dozen or so times, and none of those visits included bars. More like state houses, the Freedom Trail, the Museum of Science, and then some concerts, baseball, and basketball games. So, this is new territory for us, and the fact that we're all wearing O'Sullivan's gear doesn't help either. Normally I don't mind socializing; I like talking to people, getting to know them, and shooting the shit. I'd just prefer it to be talking with voices and not with bodies or hands on my body.

"Do you have any other piercings?" a seductive voice asks. My head snaps to my left, finding a woman wearing a ripped Flogging Molly T-shirt and a short plaid pleated skirt over black fishnet stockings. Her dyed fire-engine-red hair is up in twin buns, her dark-red, almost-black lips are curled up in a coy smile, and she has heavy eyeliner around brown eyes that are slanted up at Ethan with a promise of dark deeds. It seems even Ethan's aloof, stoic demeanor isn't enough to shield him from advances down here.

Besides Colette, I've never witnessed someone hit on Ethan, and I'm curious to see how he handles the situation. Keeping his arms crossed over his chest, he turns his head toward her with slow, controlled movements and robotically cants his head to the side. His eyes are unreadable as they stare down his nose at her. His face remains blank. His eyes never blink. His mouth never opens. He barely breathes. He just stares at her like she's an insect he hasn't encountered before.

The salacious smile slowly crumbles on the woman's face, and her eyes turn muddy, losing that sheen of desire, while her pale cheeks pinken. The casual, confident posture she was exuding turns rigid, and her mouth opens as if to say something. Ethan tilts his head to the other side. That's it. Just a tilt. And the movement causes a few garbled noises to escape from the woman's mouth before she furiously snaps her jaw shut. "Right," she scoffs, jerking a definitive nod. "Asshole, got it." Then with strong shoulders, she spins around and weaves her way through the crowd away from him. Ethan returns his attention to the bar where Xander's about to order.

I'm still gobsmacked and, shit, impressed by how he handled the whole interaction. Then I feel a hand slip under the hem of my T-shirt and up my back. Having had enough of this shit, especially after everything Xander had to deal with this week, I whirl around growling. "Please refrain from touching—" But it's my mate, looking very alarmed with her mouth agape, eyes wide, and hands raised up in defense.

"Um, Jax, I didn't think you'd mind," she tentatively explains, still looking shocked. There's a hint of uncertain hurt creasing her brows that I need to squash.

The scowl on my face melts to relaxed relief, and I breathe out a long-groaned "Billie." Bending over and wrapping one arm around her waist, I yank her body into mine. The muscles in my arm quiver, tightening my hold on her. My other hand possessively clutches the back of her head, and my fingers thread through the weaves of her braids, craning her head back and bowing her spine from the base of her skull down to my belted arm around her waist. Her hands crawl their way up my arms in search of purchase, and her mouth opens with a gasp. The sound zaps through my ears and shoots down my spine, jerking my cock to life. I lay down my claim. Tilting my head to the side, my tongue dives into her mouth while my lips seal around hers. She meets me lick for lick and suck for suck.

Her hands clamp around my neck, pulling her up and pressing her soft, pillowed breasts against my hard chest. I moan with my need for her, and she echoes that need right back. Parting her legs with one of mine my hand skates down her back to squeeze a handful of her luscious rump. Then I glide her crease over my thigh and nearly bust a nut feeling her heat slide along my leg.

Slowing our kisses to light pecks, I rasp out against her lips, "Sorry, B, didn't know it was you."

She giggles, and I feel the vibration on my lips. "All good, Jax. Thought maybe if I touched or hugged you, then the hordes would back off."

I continue to rub my thigh against her seam, loving how she keeps getting hotter with each pass. I murmur. "I think more than a touch or hug will be needed." And I'd be oh so happy to oblige.

Ethan comes up behind me and rests his chin on my shoulder. "You claiming us, love?"

Billie turns her head to where The Den is seated. I follow her gaze. Jake and Dom are looking the most pathetic, giving her pleading eyes with hands clasped in prayer in front of their chests. Marcus is shaking his head and smiling while giving her a thumbs up. Enzo is seated on the bench, leaning back with his head tilted to one side, biting his lower lip, and looking at her with curious desire. She turns back to us and, with flushed cheeks, mutters, "Yeah, if that's all right."

"Fuck yeah, it is," Ethan groans through rolling lips, gazing down at our mate with half-lidded eyes. His hands trail along my sides, rubbing up and down before giving me a firm squeeze—a squeeze I feel the impression of around my shaft. I peer into his eyes, and he meets my gaze with a, shit, sexy-as-all-hell wink. We're so close that I feel his breath on my face, and damn if I don't want to feel his lips on mine. As if reading my thoughts, Ethan's lips curl up on one side, before he brushes them ever so lightly across my cheek, murmuring, "Mind if I step in?"

My eyes close as goosebumps erupt from under his lips and trickle down my neck. Inhaling a shuddering breath through a suddenly parched mouth, I take a moment. "Yeah," I reply on a rough swallow and open my eyes to find his, which are filled with amused desire. A light laugh bubbles up from my chest, and I smile. "For sure, E, she's yours." Releasing Billie, I turn around to help Xander, who's already paid for the beers and is setting up the trays to carry everything over while Ethan takes my spot.

"Want to pick her up and make our way over to the table," Xander suggests, holding a tray with a pitcher and several glasses on it while jerking his head to the two remaining pitches.

"I've wanted to do my own caveman claiming since I watched that video of yours, X," Ethan comments from behind me while I grab the pitchers and some coasters.

Billie

I'm going to kill Marcus for this challenge, and Jake owes me big time.

Whatever happens as a result of this is their fault. I was already unbelievably turned on from the beta power lesson with Jax. Plus, Little Fox has been letting me know how keen she is about this claiming game. Supah keen. She's snout over tail about the whole damn thing. I'm close to being a hot spring of heated desire, especially watching the physical display of affection between Ethan and Jax. I almost shouted out, "Kiss him! Kiss him!" but refrained, not wanting to call attention or ruin the moment. But damn! Their lips were right there! Like right there!

Ethan bends down and lightly pecks my lips while banding his arms around my upper thighs. I need more than a peck, and my teeth nip his piercing, drawing his lower lip out, while my arms wrap securely around his neck. Ethan's eyes brighten, and he growls in challenge, picking me up in his arms and brushing one of his long fingers over my heated core while my legs spread around his waist, ankles hooking behind his back. "Ethan," I moan, inhaling his lip back into my mouth, sucking and flicking his lip ring with my tongue before releasing it.

"Love how responsive you are to us," he pants, hiking me up higher in his embrace and tightening his hold on me. He kisses his way down my neck, and we begin moving, hopefully to a backroom or somewhere private. My lips and teeth find Ethan's ear, sucking and tugging on the lobe. He groans against my skin and opens his mouth, pressing his teeth into the flesh of my neck and sucking deeply.

"Fuck, E," I moan grinding my pelvis into him, looking for some sort of release or alleviation from the volcanic level of burning want simmering between my thighs.

He releases my neck with a suctioning smack of his lips. "Your pussy is trying to sear her imprint onto my abs with how needy you are, love."

I run my tongue up his neck, and his body quakes. "So needy." I whimper into his ear.

When my bum bumps the back of a chair, I tear my mouth from his neck and pull back to meet his searching eyes. Whatever he sees, which I'm guessing is a look of naked desire and willingness to do whatever it takes to fulfill said desire, has a satisfied smile slinking across his face. He sets me down on unsteady feet and balances my wobbly body with his hands on my shoulders before slowly rotating me around to face... The Den.

Right. We're in a bar. In Southie. With The Den . How could I forget ? Something must have distracted me.

"Here, Demon," Jake chuckles, sliding a beer over to me. He waggles his brows and adds, "Looks like you may have worked up a thirst."

"Feckin' tosser," I grumble before taking several gulps, hoping the cool, bitter taste will dampen the carnal flames currently blazing inside me. Swallowing and licking my lips in triumph, I meet Jake's entertained eyes. "Satisfied?" I huff out with a lift of my chin.

Marcus slaps the table and hoots, "Holy fuck, Demon! Never thought I'd see the day! I didn't think you had it in ya."

Tugging on my ear, I snort a short laugh. "I didn't think I did either, Pipes." Out of the side of my eye, I see Enzo's moved to the corner of the booth. I almost don't want to look, don't want to see whatever expression, or lack thereof, is on his gorgeous face. Would he be upset? I've never kissed anyone in front of him. And though I know he's hooked up from time to time, it's a rarity, and usually only happened when he was blasted on pills, alcohol, or both. But never in front of me. Enzo doesn't like to be touched by almost anyone—except me. With a speeding heart and somewhat blurry vision, I slowly slide my gaze to him.

He's reclined back in the corner, his arms loosely wrapped around his trim waist, head tilted to the side, resting on the wall next to him with his long ponytail framing the open side of his chest. When I finally brave a look at his face, I find his scar crinkled from the half grin tugging up one side of his mouth. He meets my gaze and lifts his brows in play while slightly bobbing his head, then he wets and rolls his lips. The tightness in my chest eases now that I've seen he doesn't look upset but rather entertained. And that tightness locks around me once more for a different reason. He's aroused.

Jake elbows me, and I almost spill the beer in my hand. "Careful, man," I tease placing the imperial glass on a coaster on the table.

Jake ignores the scolding and jerks his head to the side, grinning. "You still got one left."

I look to the side and slightly behind Jake to find Xander, who's leaning against a square wooden post and drinking a beer. His hooded eyes are full of heated challenge while he licks those bee-stung lips. "Are you going to claim me, il mio cuore? "

Do I want to claim Xander? I think back to the library this week and how Lady Rachael was all over him. I think about when we first met and the image of Cortney's manicured hand clamping down on his shoulder, yanking him away from me. How at the parade of pussy, the she-wolf had her hands on him, trying to get him to feed her, then her trying to feed him. How girls are always staring at him, bumping into him, and intentionally touching him. I act like I don't care, like it's not a big deal. But if I'm honest with myself, I do mind. I do care. I care a lot. He's mine. He's my true-mate.

Xander's chin is tilted down while his eyes patiently observe me. "Up, Jake," I command, giving Jake a hard shove off the pub chair he's sitting on.

"So demanding, Demon," he says, getting up and shuffling over to the open end of the bench near where Jax is leaning against the side of the table.

Pushing the chair in front of Xander, I climb up on my knees so we're at the same height. Taking the beer out of his hand, I set it on the table next to mine and turn to face him once more. With my eyes on his, I reach my hand out to massage his broad shoulder and let it trail down his firm arm until my fingers lightly clasp his wrist. Holding his hand, the one with my newest bitemark, I bring it up between us and watch my thumb tenderly rub the sensitive flesh, feeling the bumps and indentations, letting myself connect to the flesh on him that is mine. My hand begins to tingle, and the sensation swirls around my wrist and up my arm.

The sound of his gasp has my gaze returning to his face. His dilated eyes are flitting between our hands and my eyes while his lips are parted with his increasingly rapid breathing. I lift his hand to my lips and gently blow along my mark. He inhales a rough breath, and his body instantly stands at attention, as if my breath sent an electric charge down his spine. Licking my lips, I place a few featherlight kisses on my mark, on the top side, and then on his palm. By the time I place his hand on my hip, his breathing has become shallow, and his hand is near trembling. His fingers dig into my flesh, but he does nothing else, wanting me to keep leading.

My gaze follows my fingertips as they skate along his sharp jawline and over his forehead, pushing a few strands of his silky dark hair off his absolutely exquisite face. He truly is stop-in-your-tracks, strikingly gorgeous. His eyelids shutter, and I comb my fingers through his thick hair, letting my nails lightly scratch his scalp, before clasping his locks, alternating between tugging and releasing. Xander's nostrils flare with his panting breath, and his eyes, now open, track every facial expression I show. Cupping his jaw, I press my thumb firmly into his fleshy bottom lip and lean toward him until my mouth is a hairbreadth away from his. In a stern voice, I whisper, "MINE ."

Xander groans, and his other hand takes hold of my free hip, pulling my pelvis into his abs. My hand moves to caress his cheek, and my lips touch down on his. I mewl at how soft his lips are. Their lushness is like a balm to my soul, and I'll never tire of kissing them. Parting my lips, my tongue seeks his out, while my hands move to the back of his head, taking him in a possessive hold. His tongue eagerly greets mine. We make soft little sounds into each other's hot mouths. Our kisses seem bottomless, each swipe, twirl, and suck feeling sumptuous. We relish, savor, the heat and the taste of our flesh. His hands slip under my half hoodie, and goosebumps flicker under his callused fingers as they glide and knead my bare skin.

I want him. I want Jax. I want Ethan.

I want them all.

I want them all now.

"More," I whimper into his mouth, pressing my body deeper into the hard planes of his, banding one arm around his waist while the other hand clutches the back of his head.

"Never enough," Xander replies in a gruff voice. Tilting his head and changing the angle of our kisses, he scrapes my lip through his teeth while his hands flex, tugging me closer.

Whooping bellows and shrill shrieks bounce off the brick walls, piercing my ears. I snap my head back, tearing my lips from Xander's, finding that my hand at some point crept under both his T-shirt and the long sleeve underneath, exposing an inch of his toned midriff.

For a moment, we just stare at each other with open mouths, swollen lips, and heaving chests. Blinking, I turn to Jake, and though I feel the blush on my cheeks, I try to appear cool by cocking a brow and scoffing, "We good now Jake?"

Xander, not caring about Jake's answer or our audience, weaves his fingers through my braids and cranes my head back, opening my neck for his lips. His mouth pressing against my flesh and sucking from below my ear down to my collarbone, my spine arches with my body's desperation for him. I somehow manage to keep my eyes on The Den, who are staring at me with varied expressions from slack-jawed shock (Marcus) to blushing cheeks (Dom).

Jake nods his head once and swallows. "Deathly so, Demon."

The cheering grows louder, and I whip my head around to the front, seeing Jimmy's busted-up but glowing face greeting everyone. Accepting slaps on his back and half hugs, his head is on a swivel, his eyes darting around looking for us no doubt. Now that I see my big brother, my heart hammers in my chest like that time when I hadn't heard from Enzo in over three weeks and tried to fill the emptiness inside with Tommy Miller's tongue down my throat. It didn't go well. I remember Tommy's gnashing mouth being torn from mine by a large hand gripping the collar of his soccer jersey and yanking him backward. Then I had to listen to Jimmy give a descriptive explanation of what his fists were capable of.

Xander, sensing my body change from pliant to tense, pulls his mouth away from my neck and turns his head toward the commotion. His grip on my ribs tightens, and I squeal in surprise as he lifts me up off the chair and swings me around so I'm on my feet facing Jimmy. Nipping my ear, he grunts, "Go get him. We've been thoroughly marked as yours." Then he sends me off with a slap on the ass.

I gulp and nod but can't seem to move still, feeling like I've been caught. Then Jimmy's eyes lock on mine. The crinkles around his swollen and bruised eyes soften, and his social smile turns genuine, with one side hooking up just a little higher than the other. A giggle bubbles in my chest and rises up my throat. My lips break into a cheek-hurting smile, and I run to him like I did when I got accepted into one of Boston's public exam high schools. Seeing me struggle through the crowd, he shouts out, "Get over here, Demon, sister of mine!" And the crowd parts like the Red Sea did for Moses, giving me a direct line to Jimmy. I run into his open arms, hugging him on his uninjured side. His arm bands around my back, pulling me into him. Kissing my head, he whispers, "Wanna help me get through?"

Looking up into his eyes, which are somehow gloating and pleading at the same time, I affectionately roll my eyes and snicker. "Yeah, like always!" Holding his hand, I drag him through all the girls trying to "congratulate him," reaching The Den and my mates, who are all clapping and cheering.