Pack of Lies, page 41
I rushed to the glass door and pulled it open, getting the attention of the group. Quentin’s relief was palpable when I wrapped my arms around him, sucking in breaths of his green apple and mulberry wine scent. “Are they OK?” I asked desperately.
“Both fine. Denzel broke a rib and he and Reese both have bullet scrapes, but they’re both fine. Marlowe and Thorn only have a few bumps and bruises.”
My prayers to the universe had been answered, even when my calculations had failed me. I breathed easier, clinging to him until someone cleared their throat. Dash looked pissed off, as usual, but he was aiming that annoyance in my direction.
“Regrettably, we have to have you on the show again. People want a follow up, and they want to know what happened after the GPRE shut us down. Come down to the studio in two days at eleven in the morning, and for the love of God look presentable. Whatever this outfit is? Don’t wear it. It’s bad enough you had it on this time, but people seem to have understood because it was an emergency broadcast.”
I nodded dumbly, hoping Quentin would remember the date and time because those were the kind of details that would fly right out of my brain.
Leighton grabbed Dash’s arm and led him away from us, throwing a promise to call over her shoulder. Before they were out of hearing range, I heard something about ‘why couldn’t your lawyers do anything for Jubilee, huh?’ and then Dash claiming that because he’d helped to save her brother’s life, she owed him a favour.
That was all way over my head.
I was officially un-arrested and my mates were all safe and sound, which was what mattered to me.
“Are we going home?” I asked.
“Yes, baby. I’m so ready to go home,” Quentin murmured.
He kept his hands on me constantly as he led me to the elevators and out to catch a cab home. Where all of my mates were waiting. Finally.
FIFTY-EIGHT
DENZEL
Marlowe snuck back into the room in the wee hours of the morning. I was surprised he did, honestly. With Reese’s scent all over him, it would have made sense for him to stay with the mate he was happy with. He certainly wasn’t happy with me, for good reason.
I wrapped my arm around him when he curled into my side, noticing how careful he was about my gunshot wound. My sleep had been fitful despite my tiredness. Being forced to sleep directly on my back for fear of exacerbating the dull pain of my entire body was less than comfortable.
Marlowe had only been back for an hour when I gave up on sleeping, instead winding my fingers through his hair and pondering what I had to say.
It was a lot.
Thorn had made me realize how badly I’d fucked up by clinging to old trauma, but it wasn’t just this incident I had to apologize for. To Marlowe, I had years of apologizing to do. I’d always been like this. Always. He was laid back and didn’t mind, but I imagined there were other times I’d overstepped.
If I could fucking go back...
I probably should have gone to therapy when Quentin and Jubilee did. After Ava.
“You’re awake?” Marlowe whispered.
I glanced down to find him peering up at me, his eyes still sleepy.
“Yeah, sorry sugar. I can stay still.”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “We need to talk.”
He pushed himself up, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside me. Thorn’s breathing was even, her body snuggled up to my other side, still asleep. I’d apologized to her last night.
Why did apologizing to Marlowe make me so anxious?
It felt bigger. Maybe I’d wronged Thorn worse — though that was debatable — but I’d been treating Marlowe wrong for longer. So much fucking longer. They’d all tried to call me out on it, too. Everyone in the pack had been kind and gentle, knowing how mentally fragile I was before I had.
Was it PTSD? Was that why I lingered on that moment, why it haunted my dreams, and why I overcorrected to make sure it never happened again?
“By ‘we need to talk,’ I meant you need to talk,” Marlowe said softly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
I swallowed. This conversation would be better done sitting up, but I couldn’t. My body ached in places I hadn’t known existed, and any movement would wake Thorn. There was something about being looked down on by my omega mate that made me feel insignificant and small. I probably deserved this minor discomfort.
“I fucked up,” I whispered. “I’ve been fucking up every day since Ava died, and especially since we created a pack with you. I wish I’d realized that I needed help. Deep down, I knew. Especially once we met Thorn. My first instinct was to hide you from each other, and in the moment I pushed away all of my doubts that it wasn’t the right move. I’m so sorry.”
Marlowe’s eyes were welling with tears already, and I couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Words weren’t good enough. They would never be enough, but they were the only thing I had to give to convince him to let me have another chance.
“You’re really fucking stubborn,” he said with a sniffle.
“I know. I’m sure my therapist will tell me how to fix that.”
“That’s part of their job, I think. My therapist helps me figure out my anxiety.”
“Yeah. I’m going as soon as I’m well enough to move.”
Not just because Thorn had demanded it, either. Damn it, I needed help. On a logical level, I’d at least recognized that Quentin and Jubilee were right.
We’d been young. Too fucking young. Including her.
For a young gold pack omega who’d had horrible things done to her, it was easy to see how there hadn’t been a light at the end of the tunnel, not even when she saw me barging in to save her.
But there was something poisonous inside me that kept poking at that logic, ripping holes in it. It claimed I was at fault, and I couldn’t believe the logic for long before it was torn apart again.
“I’m going to get better,” I said, a bit choked up. “I promise, I’m going to try so fucking hard to get better and make it up to you. All the years I treated you like a breakable doll and banned you from doing things you wanted... That’s a thing of the past, because I’m going to be a better mate from now on. A better member of the pack, too. I can’t promise I’ll never be overprotective but I promise if you point it out to me, I’ll pull back. And if you don’t want to give me another chance, that’s fine too. I’ll manage, and maybe one day you’ll see me as a better man than I am right now.”
Marlowe was full on crying, holding back sobs so he wouldn’t wake Thorn. The way he threw himself onto my chest made me grunt in pain, but it was worth it to have him pressed against me. His hair tickled my nose and I inhaled deeply, just in case this was a goodbye hug and he wasn’t going to try and forgive me.
“Silly, I could never abandon you when you’re finally trying to work through everything,” he mumbled against my chest. “I love you so fucking much. I wish we’d pushed harder to get you help before now, because we all knew something was wrong. Enabling you wasn’t doing anything good, but for the record, I love you even when you’re overprotective. That’s something I talk to my therapist about. I love being coddled. Something about my childhood and my parents not loving me, but whatever. You’re allowed to protect me; you’re just not allowed to lie or control my life to do it. OK?”
I sniffled and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Got it. Protect, don’t lie or control. You’d think that would have been obvious to me from the start, huh?”
He chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah, it should have been.”
Our breathing slowly evened out, tears drying to salty trails on our cheeks. Thorn slept like a log, only occasionally stirring. My fingers trailed down Marlowe’s bare back, eager for more of his touch after such a long time without.
“I have a question,” I asked.
It had been so long since he’d spoken or moved, I wasn’t sure if Marlowe was awake. Maybe it was better that he wasn’t. I had no right to ask this.
He hummed softly, wordlessly urging me to ask.
“Can I offer Thorn the bond before I give up pack lead to Reese?”
I held my breath. Marlowe slowly turned his head. His expression was more curious than upset.
“Do you think she’ll say yes to you?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not, but I want to ask. So she knows. After everything I did... I want her to know I really want her. She can say no to me and yes to Reese, and I won’t put my mark on her until she’s ready. I just really want her to know I’m all in.”
Marlowe nibbled on his lip. “Why are you asking me?” he asked hesitantly.
“I’m never again doing anything without you approving it in advance.”
His lips curved. “Really? Does that mean I have to approve it when you come, too? I think I could have fun with that.”
My eyes fluttered shut and I fought back a blush. “That’s not really how I intended for you to use that power.”
“But it’s a power you’re giving me, so it should be my choice how I use it.”
“I guess,” I grumbled.
I wasn’t really upset. It sounded like another level of penance to pay, which I was on board with. Plus, something about it was hot. Giving over control had never been my thing — not that I was a dom like my brother. I just didn’t enjoy being told what to do by anyone in any circumstance.
“In that case, you can’t come without permission. Not even in the shower alone,” Marlowe claimed. “Don’t lie to me either. I’ll find out. It’ll be points against you. Thorn can give you permission to come if you’re with her, but that is the only exception.”
Groaning, I tried to move up for a kiss and failed, just like I had with Thorn last night. After sleeping, everything hurt more. Damn it. He laughed and took pity on me, giving me the kiss I’d tried to steal. When he pulled back, his scent was heavier and he was flushed.
“You can ask her,” he whispered. “And I kind of love you even more for wanting to. It’s sweet.”
“Ask her what?”
Thorn’s tired voice came from the other side. She loosed a huge yawn a second later, blinking as she adjusted to the dim early morning light.
My throat closed.
The idea of asking her to bond with the pack was one thing, when I knew she would say no.
Actually doing it was another thing entirely. Marlowe’s presence soothed me through the panic, his omega aura stroking my psyche. Thorn regarded me with an increasing amount of curiosity the longer I stayed silent.
I cleared my throat.
“I was just discussing with Marlowe…” I trailed off and cleared my throat again. “I want to offer you a bond with our pack.”
FIFTY-NINE
THORN
A grin slowly spread across my face as I woke up fully and realized what was happening.
A bond.
He was offering me what I’d wanted before the traffickers took me when I was young and naive. A bonded pack, and my scent match no less.
I pushed myself up on the bed and out from the crook of his arm, pressing our lips together. He groaned into my mouth — both his and Marlowe’s scents were heightened. They had to have been talking about sex. Or thinking about it. Scenting them was making me horny in turn, but I had to give him a response first.
Pulling back from the kiss, I smirked down at him.
“No, thanks,” I said.
Marlowe was grinning too.
Denzel looked a little dejected by the answer but nodded.
He’d expected it and asked anyway. There was a piece of vulnerability in that. It showed me he was on his way to changing.
“You’ll accept the bond from Reese, right?” he asked.
“Yes, I will.”
“You should get him. I want you in the pack.”
I rolled my eyes, leaning over to kiss him again. His lips were pliant beneath mine, and his hand stayed respectfully on my side. He was downright demure.
I had to wonder how long this would last before he went back to being a bit of a dick. There were some personality traits you couldn’t change, and he was lucky I’d fallen in love with his grumpy ass.
When I pulled back Marlowe was so close, I could see flecks of blue in his green eyes. Planting my kiss-swollen lips on his, it took me a second to realize why there was something off about the scents in here right now.
“You smell a lot like Reese,” I murmured, watching the other omega’s eyes fill with first panic and then embarrassment.
“Um…”
“I’m so happy for you.”
He looked relieved for a moment, and I guessed those initial questions he’d asked me had risen in his mind. Poor sweetheart worried that my original statement — that it would be cruel to ask he stop his relationships within the pack — didn’t apply to him and Reese.
If I’d had any problem at all with them being together, I never would have riled Reese up by mentioning Marlowe while he was knot-deep inside of me.
Though, Marlowe didn’t know about that.
“We were both kind of being dumb,” Marlowe admitted softly.
“It isn’t exclusive to Denzel, apparently,” I said.
We peered down at him with twin smirks. He held up both of his hands and good-naturedly rolled his eyes. “I never claimed to have the patent for idiocy. Other people are capable of it. It just seems to be more difficult for most people.”
Snorting a laugh, I grabbed Marlowe’s chin again and pulled him back to me. This time we kissed until we were both panting. Denzel was politely averting his eyes, but his cock was tenting the blanket.
While I wouldn’t be accepting a bond from him right now, there was no harm in teasing him, was there?
My hand rested on his abs, grazing over the wrap that kept his gunshot wound covered, then slid down to his Adonis belt. I ran a nail along the V and his entire body shivered. Ginger cookies flooded me and Marlowe groaned. The scent affected his normal sense of smell more than it did me. If this was one-sixteenth, I couldn’t imagine how he experienced it.
Though, I’d been getting their scents more strongly for a while.
Maybe when it came to my pack, I had more like one-fifth the normal sense.
I slid the nail further down, beneath the loose-fitting pants he’d worn to bed, and kept the pressure on it until I reached the base of his cock. Then I stroked one finger up the length.
“Fuck, Thorn. Are you trying to kill me?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I said.
He cursed when I ran a finger down his length again. It had to be almost ticklish with how lightly I was touching, but it affected him. This was a wildly different experience than when I’d been rejected by Reese and masturbated to them at the apartment. I felt wanted this time, and good at this.
“You know what’s even better?” Marlowe asked me.
His hand was sliding up Denzel’s chest, rubbing his nipple.
“What?”
“He can’t come unless we give him permission.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “When was that decided?”
“When he asked to offer you the bond, he said — and I quote — ‘I’m never again doing anything without you approving it in advance.’ I of course immediately decided I wanted power over when he’s allowed to come.”
Denzel had his eyes squeezed shut, his body tense. He had to be a little uncomfortable, with bruises more obvious on his body this morning, but I could tell most of the tension was from my fingers. Two now had a loose grip on the base of his cock.
“And I have that power too?”
“Of course,” Marlowe said with a grin. “Do you think we should let him come today?”
I glanced down at his straining cock, using my free hand to push down the blankets. The length was still contained by the pajamas, but I doubted it would stay that way for long. With how hard he was, his cock threatened to push them down all on its own.
“He should get a consolation come,” I said, “since he jumped off the second story for me. One consolation come while he’s healing up, and then I guess we’ll see.”
“Agreed,” Marlowe said. “I think he might be scared of the ‘I guess we’ll see’, but a little fear is probably good for him.”
The man in question hadn’t spoken, his jaw clenched.
“What are your thoughts on this, Denzel?” I asked.
“My thoughts are that I’d really prefer for you to either sit on my cock, or stop fucking touching it,” he hissed. “Please.”
The please was an afterthought that had both of us omegas giggling.
I gave the length one long stroke then pulled my hand back. He sagged down onto the bed, disappointment in his expression.
“Marlowe, can you help me get undressed?”
Denzel’s breath hitched again. I climbed off the bed and so did Marlowe, leaving the alpha helplessly laying out on the mattress. He could probably get up, but it would be painful if he did. For the most part he was stuck watching us.
I planned to make him wish he hadn’t pissed us off.
My hands landed on Marlowe’s hips and yanked him against me as soon as he was in range. His cock rubbed my stomach and we both moaned, our noses brushing. From the cheeky look in his eyes, I imagined he had the same plan as I did.
An extended tease.
And tease, we fucking did.
There wasn’t much clothing to remove, but every piece came off painstakingly slowly. Inch by inch, moan by moan, touch by touch. It was so slow Marlowe and I were both panting and I was dripping wet by the time we were naked. I’d got a taste of his cock and he’d swiped his tongue along me, but it was only a tease, not the full show.
Denzel was sweating when we wandered back to the bed. Our arousal drenched the room, and I was almost a little puddle of it.
I worked his sleep pants down his legs and straddled his cock, Marlowe helping where he had to. My hands couldn’t brace on his chest because I risked aggravating his broken rib, so I sat straight up, hovering over him.
