18. Sawyer

18

They lead me to a sunken living room facing out toward a shady backyard with a pool. Basically, they sit me down and sit around me. There is a thermos and cups on the low table, as well as a plate of chocolates.

One of them serves me some coffee and I take it, grateful to wrap my shaky hands around its warmth.

"So you own a café," he says, and I struggle to remember if he's Atlas or Titus or… Jake?

"Yes. A book café."

They all pause as they serve themselves coffee. "With books? Like a bookstore?"

"No, more like a library," I explain. "Like a place where people can hang out and read books."

"For free?"

"Yes. I mean, they will pay for their drinks and cake."

"People buy eBooks these days," Ezekiel says with a disapproving frown. "A café with actual books can't be doing very well."

"It's going fine, actually," I say, getting defensive and trying to rein in my temper. "And people still read paperbacks."

"I see," he says, his face unreadable, "my bad." He pushes the plate of chocolates toward me. "Chocolate?"

I shake my head. "Tell me… about yourselves."

So they do. They work various financial jobs. They seem at ease with one another, elbowing each other and snickering over jokes I don't get.

They seem… nice. A nice pack. They may not be into books—as evidenced by their comments and the complete lack of bookshelves and indeed, books, in their living room, but so what? Not everyone has to be.

Only… my pack should. Totally. Definitely. How can I get along with people who aren't into books?

And you know the way my dick got so hard just by being around the McGraw Pack? And Brinlee? Right. Not happening here. Nothing. Nada. My dick isn't interested. Not engaging. Weapons aren't locked and cocked, sorry.

And what about the rest of me?

I listen to them chatting about their jobs. About their hobbies. They like sports. And wood carving. And videogames—at last, something we have in common!—and vacations.

Yeah, they are nice.

But no part of me is engaged, at all. Not interested enough. Not like with Brinlee. Not like with the McGraw trio.

I kinda lose the thread as they talk, remembering the McGraw pack standing inside my café, arms folded over broad chests, watching me talk to Brinlee. I remember Brinlee's excitement when I gave her the book—the book she left behind, so that I had to put it away again, and the pain in my chest as I did, as if my heart couldn't pump properly.

The Ulfrig Pack doesn't even seem to notice that I'm silent, having fun together, laughing and falling against one another, recalling funny incidents and poking fun at each other.

My cue to leave, I think. Oh shit, I have to tell my parents and Eric that no spark was ignited during this meeting.

‘Give it another try,' they'll say. ‘Nobody believes in sparks and insta-love anymore. You like them. Arrange another meeting. Go out for drinks. Find out more about them.'

Question is, do they want to learn more about me?

They do offer to meet again when I get up, giving them some excuse about having to wake up early the next day to work. They offer but I don't know if it's just politeness, just a platitude. Do they expect me to say yes?

I hum and nod, not giving a straight answer, and they lead me back to the door, walking along the walls covered in wolf portraits.

They seem to be snarling at me.

What do I want with a pack of wolves? I like bookworms. A completely different kind of animal.

Though, I think of Kyrian and how he dislikes books and… and why am I still thinking about him? Him, and his pack? If he doesn't care for books, why should I assume the rest of the pack does? They're probably just like the Ulfrig Pack—into sports, wood whittling, and vacation plans. They don't run their own business like me, they can take time off and go frolic on beaches, or whatever it is they like to do.

Roll in the mud like wolves?

Wait, that's the Ulfrig Pack.

But maybe the McGraw Pack isn't all that different.

I stumble into the Alpha Bet bar, not even sure what I'm doing here. It's early, but thankfully the door is open. I don't see any bouncer, or anyone else as I walk inside.

I want… to see them.

See how I feel once more, see if I really feel differently with them than with the Ulfrig Pack. I wish I could find Brinlee, too, but I have no idea where she could be, whereas they… they work here, right?

After a moment's hesitation, I venture deeper into the silent bar. It seems huge without the usual throng of people and the loud music. A man is mopping between the few tables at the far end but he barely pays me any attention, just a nod of his head as he goes on mopping.

I'd worry that they aren't careful about security, but I see cameras in the corners of the room. Then a barman sidles behind the bar, also nodding at me.

"We aren't open yet," he says. "Looking for somebody?"

"Archer," I blurt out. "He's?—"

"That office." He points. "He's the boss around here."

"The boss. Right. Thank you." I hurry in the direction he's pointing at. The door is black and on it, in golden letters it says… ‘The Boss.'

A laugh escapes me.

Okay…

I knock on the door, but don't hear anything. Frowning, I turn the handle, expecting it to be locked—maybe Archer isn't in yet—and it swings inwardly.

I take a step inside, opening my mouth to call out a greeting, at the same time wondering if now is a good time to turn tail and run before I make a huge fool of myself…

… and my only incongruous thought at the sight greeting me is that I was wrong.

The McGraw Pack isn't into wood whittling.

They are into wood, though.

Oh, yeah.

And their hobby seems to be… sex.

Holy shitballs. I stare at the scene before me, my body reacting before my conscious brain has a chance of playing catch-up, my dick rising to attention, my ass slicking up.

Whew, is it getting hot in here? Because… there's Roman sitting on the desk, legs spread, Kyrian between them, giving him head—while Roman is giving head to Archer who is standing beside him.

Dammit, this threesome is scorching.

Kyrian's grip on Roman's spread legs is possessive, the way he's devouring Roman's cock is hungry and aggressive. Archer has his hand fisted in Roman's hair, pulling his head back, fucking his mouth, and the look of satisfaction on that square-jawed face is doing things to me.

All this is doing things to me, dammit, getting me hard as a rock. I like my girls slight and soft, my guys big and hard. I'm an omega; it's wired in my nature, I guess.

These guys are exactly what nature prescribed.

Sounds filter through my dazed brain—slurping and grunting and groaning, bass, male sounds of excitement and pleasure, and I find my hand drifting down to my cock.

I don't know what I'm doing. This is insane. I'm not a voyeur, and I don't do illicit things like watch a pack get off in an office at the back of a bar, when they haven't noticed me there.

Illicit and wrong.

And so damn arousing. Inside my pants, my fingers close around the hot length of my dick, and a shiver of pleasure rocks me. Roman is groaning louder now around Archer's cock, shaking on the desk. I think he's about to come in Kyrian's mouth, and in response my cock twitches and leaks.

My legs feel unsteady. I have to brace a hand on the wall by the door as I work my cock. Squeeze and twist and pull, and my balls are tightening.

This is… Watching Archer fuck Roman's face harder, while Roman shudders through his release, is doing me in. I imagine myself in Roman's place, giving and receiving pleasure, using a hot mouth to get off and being used at the same time, and I have to swallow a moan.

Eventually, Kyrian stands up, partly shielding the other two, wiping at this mouth with the back of his hand, his other hand going to the bulge at his crotch.

"Fuck," Archer is muttering, "take it deeper, that's it. Swallow it down, Ro. I want to see you choking on my cock. Yeah, that's it, yeah…"

Roman moans.

Archer grunts, his movements growing jerky. Kyrian is stroking himself, one hand on Roman's shoulder.

Hot. So fucking hot.

Oh fuck. I'm coming, my cock jerking inside my pants, my breath catching in my throat. Heat spills over my fingers, and my entire body clenches with my release.

Shit…

Suddenly I become aware of them looking my way. I must have made a sound, after all. And…

Pulling my hand out of my pants, I spin around and all but run out the door, my face on fire.

Fuck.

What was I thinking?