35. Brinlee

35

"Not until you're part of our pack."

"We're here. Fly, girl, and if you fall, we'll catch you. I promise."

God, why is he saying those things, making my heart soar with hope? He doesn't realize that I'm being serious when I say I have nothing to offer. I come from nowhere and heading nowhere, the only goal in my life being to pay the bills and get through this storm.

They have a pack, careers, parents and siblings and dreams.

I have no dreams. I've been in survival mode ever since I can remember, and things only got worse last year. No, my only dreams are of them, this pack and Sawyer, but I know that they can never come true.

Teasing myself with this piece of happiness and pleasure is cruel.

I'm hurting myself, and it will only hurt more when they reject me in the end.

But then I will be able to look back and say, I had this, even for a moment. I had what I wanted with the guys I've fallen for.

They say memories are the only thing that remains, right? Well, I'll have the memories. This is what I'm doing now. Taking them inside me, and not only into my body but into my heart, turning this moment into a memory, to keep them safe in my mind palace for darker times.

In my experience, darker times will come, sooner or later. Whatever you build, you lose again. It's a law in my world.

But my God, seeing these guys strip is a vision that will live forever in my mind rent-free, I swear. Yup, this is the sort of memories I was talking about.

Lord have mercy.

Roman is the first one to haul his shirt over his head, and holy wow, he has a body like an Olympic swimmer, all sinew and lithe muscle. No wonder he moves like a dancer. A swimmer-dancer?

When have I ever been so aroused from kissing a guy, or watching him undress? Never, that's when.

Until now, and not with one, but three guys.

Just like it was with Sawyer last night, and God, Sawyer… Sadness swamps me, but I try to push it out of my mind.

Making great memories, remember? This is what life is about. I have my Sawyer memory. Now it's time for my McGraw Pack memory.

It also serves to take my mind off Sawyer being with other guys. Or other girls. Another pack. It's not jealousy and sorrow I feel. Not at all.

Okay, that's a lie. It's totally jealousy and sorrow. Same feelings I'll feel once the McGraw Pack moves on. But let's stick to tonight, shall we?

Live in the here and now, right? Carpe diem and all that.

"Listen," Archer says, and good Lord, they're starting on the buttons of their pants now, all three of them looking determined, grinning wolfishly. Is that a space rocket between their legs? "Are you listening?"

"Yeah," I croak.

"This can stop at any moment of your choosing, okay? Just say no, or stop, or enough, and we stop. This is a promise."

"Okay…"

"How about you take a look first," Roman says with a wink. "Get used to what we're packing. Decide if you really want to ride that train."

A giggle escapes me. "Yes, please. I'd love to ride that train and shop me some sexy, naked men. Show me the goods."

And the dicks.

They take this seriously, I realize, pushing down their pants, kicking them off together with shoes and socks and standing there, at full attention.

Waiting for inspection.

It makes me giggle again, because this isn't the passion-filled kissing we had moments before, the mindless passion I expected.

Then again, I have a feeling they're doing this on purpose, to get me to relax around them. To trust them.

They're nice. Now the shock from the club is fading, I'm starting to realize just how nice they've been to me. I just hope it's not a fa?ade.

But those dicks… those are real, and dear God, they're huge. I mean, considering their physiques, the alphas' dicks are in proportion, I suppose, but now I get why Roman felt I should "get used to what they're packing." As for him, his dick is beautiful, elegant, like him, on the long side.

I never thought I had a thing about dicks. Sawyer's was great, too, though I never got a good look.

And their bodies… Shit, it's getting hot in here. I walk around them, looking, probably drooling. They are all so perfectly sculpted, muscular, but not like gorillas. The alphas' look more like boxers' bodies, while Roman's is more slender. Big shoulders, check. Bulging biceps, check. Eight-packs, check. Thick thighs and firm ass cheeks that could bounce a coin against.

Let's not forget that sexy V leading down to their groins, and yeah, now we're back to the dicks… Hard, thick, long, pointing upward at various angles. Veined. Flushed. Glorious.

And here's the other thing. I always knew I was a sexual person, but I mostly played with myself, not trusting others to be intimate with. But now I've discovered that dildos can't hold a candle to actual real dicks—and that the men the dicks belong to also matter.

A big part of my pleasure last night was seeing and knowing it was Sawyer fucking me.

Now I can't wait to be with this handsome trio, because I've lusted after them, too, only the feelings I have toward them… I shouldn't allow them.

Feelings can destroy you.

Everyone you love leaves you in the end…

"Like what you see, sugar doll?" Kyrian growls and I grin, stopping in front of him. He's watching from under lowered pale lashes, eyes blazing, a light color on his cheekbones betraying his cool tone.

I can't help the heat rushing to my own face as I take in his fully aroused state and the colorful ink scrawled over his powerful pecs, shoulders and biceps. It depicts fantastic creatures, mermaids and sea dragons, phoenixes in flight and serpents, all intertwined, claws and teeth sinking into flesh, and scales, and feathers, as if they're waging war—or sex—on each other.

This is a guy who likes fantastic stories, for real.

Moving past him, I stand in front of Archer. His cock is as intimidating as his body, and the sac at the base that inflates when he's mounting an omega is slightly swollen, as if he's about to go into a rut.

It shouldn't be so hot, but combined with the dark gaze and chiseled jaw, this brooding alpha is scorching.

And then there's Roman, elegant and strong, his cock pointing straight up, thick and long and beautiful.

"I may start here," I whisper. "A starter. A smaller bite."

"Yet mighty," he says, keeping his face straight. "All the flavor is here."

"I like it hard," I say. "The flavor doesn't interest me right now."

Archer groans.

"Good choice." Roman grins. "As you can see, it is damn hard right now. And all yours."

"Now I do sound like I'm at a meat market," I mutter with a snicker. "Damn."

"Choosing Roman, then?" Kyrian asks with that constant growl in his voice that does pleasant things to my insides.

"To start with," I clarify.

It's Kyrian's turn to groan.

"Our girl wants to play musical chairs," Archer mutters.

"Oh, yeah," Roman says with feeling, "sit on me, baby."

I never thought they could be this funny—and this sexy at the same time. This side of them is new, and I love it.

"Sofa?" I slide my hand into Roman's, loving how much bigger it is than mine, how strong. "Or bed?"

"Sofa," he says, his voice choked. "Right here. Right now. I can't wait a minute longer."

A shiver goes through me at the new predatory light in his eyes. "The sofa it is."

He walks me backward to the sofa, then stops with his hands on my waist, taking a deep breath. "Dammit, I want to pound you into these cushions, but I don't wanna?—"

"Scare me?" I snicker softly, then stop because these guys are really being careful, as if they care… as if they want more… So I steel myself. "Don't worry. In fact…"

I take a step back, and he lifts his hands as if I've slapped them away. I need the space, a moment to collect myself. But when I start to undress, this time all three of them groan.

"Need help with that?" Archer asks, his voice a little strangled, and when I smile at him, he steps forward.

They all do, putting their hands on me, carefully tugging at my clothes, as if unwrapping an expensive and fragile gift. Soon it devolves into harder tugging, and a seam rips.

I laugh breathlessly as Kyrian curses and steps back. I turn to face him and grin up at him, seeing him relax. Roman finishes unzipping the back of my dress and I shrug it off.

"Whoa, baby." Roman turns me back toward him, his head tipped back. "I don't smoke, but I think I could use a fucking cigarette right now."

I'm dressed in my black undies and stockings. The high heels are still on, and I guess guys will be guys, because from their renewed groaning and staring, it's obvious they like me dressed like this.

"Oh, I like this," Roman purrs, on cue. "I like this a lot."

I smile and glance at Kyrian. "Like what you see, huh?"

"I sure do," he growls and reaches down to curl his hand around his jutting hard-on. "So get on with it, Ro, before I jump the line, hear me?"

"Uh-oh…" I take a step back as three determined men advance on me. "Roman…"

Roman grabs me in his arms, sweeps me off my feet before I can draw breath to scream, and throws me on the sofa.

Then he climbs on top of me, dark eyes glittering, his grin very white. "Now, my pretty, where were we? Oh, yeah. You want a bite of the McGraw Pack beta, do you?"

"I…" He looks so beautiful, bowed on top of me, muscles shifting in his arms and chest, dark hair falling on his forehead, that roguish grin on his handsome face. I cradle his jaw, pull him down to kiss his mouth, even as the two alphas come to stand behind the sofa, looking down on us. "Yeah…"

He kisses me like he's drowning in me, his scent filling my senses. My legs spread to cradle his body and his hard cock presses against my pussy.

I want him so badly.

"Please," I whisper against his lips. "Do it, now."

"I don't want to hurt you," he grunts, then curses when I rock my hips up. "Don't rush, sweetheart."

But I feel as if time is slipping through my fingers like sand. I slide my hands around his neck. "I'm ready."

Still, he doesn't take my word for it, and deep down, I appreciate it. I appreciate that he smiles down at me—God, the man is hot—and slides one hand between our bodies, between my thighs, and into my panties.

I'm drenched. I know it, and I see the moment he realizes it, his dark brows shooting up, though by then I'm gasping at the feel of his long fingers pushing into me. I'm trembling, all that pent-up tension and desire threatening to throw me over the edge instantly.

But he pulls his fingers back out—then sticks them into his mouth and sucks them clean. "Sweet," he breathes.

And a throb goes through me at the sight and the way his eyes half-close in pleasure.

"Fuck," Kyrian breathes and my gaze is drawn to the two tall alphas looming behind the sofa, handsome faces twisted up with desire.

"Eyes on me." Roman smiles down at me, his gaze moving appreciatively over my face and body, and then he says, "Last chance to take it slow. We don't have to fuck, not tonight."

But it's my last chance, my only chance, to be with them—I can't keep the secret for too long, the lie that everything is okay. Sooner rather than later I'll have to tell them, and it will be over.

"Do it," I whisper. "I want you inside me."

I want them to mark me, even if it's not a claiming mark. I want to feel them.

"Shit." He searches my face for a moment, then nods. And grabbing his cock, he pushes into me.

The world splinters with pleasure. I gasp, lifting my hips to meet his thrust, and his mouth opens without a sound as he slides into me.

It's perfect. A perfect fit.

He thrusts again, and again, his jaw clenched, his breathing harsh. He's rocking faster now, cursing under his breath, and I grab his strong arms and hold on for dear life, even as I know I'm about to go under.

I was primed for this, and now it's happening. my body's yearning for them is turning into a roaring answer, a ripple of release so immense I'm already shaking with it before it breaks over me.

And then it does, and I'm arching up with a cry, taking all he's giving me, the memory already turning into gold.