Pack Deception: Part Two, page 14
Four years old, spayed, police dog.
“I wonder how long you were on the job, pretty girl.” Nala walks right up to my side, so I reach down to pet her behind the ears. “Let’s go see how much longer before we get to take you home, hmm?” My words are said out loud, but I’m not really talking directly to Nala. More voicing my thoughts so she doesn’t feel lonely.
We walk down the hall together, her side pressed right up against my leg in the most adorable and comforting way. Already switching into protector mode. Hudson is at the front counter, sliding his credit card when we join them. “All set?” he asks, putting the credit card back in his wallet and pocketing it.
“Yep. You?” Nala sits at my feet when we stop at the counter. Not even needing a leash. Though, I will get her one and a collar. Just in case.
“Yeah. Let’s get this lady home. We’ll have to stop at the pet store first.” The door chimes behind us, and a beta couple walks in. I glance at the clock on the wall. We’ve been here an hour. Which means they’ve been open for about thirty minutes. We finished up just in time. The couple walks up to the counter, and the woman loses her footing briefly, stumbling into my side and mumbling a quick apology.
But Nala growls at the lady and stands between us, making my eyebrows jump in surprise. The young beta woman who bumped into me takes several steps away from where my dog is growling at her.
“It’s like she knows she’s yours already,” Hudson chuckles in quiet surprise. I just drag a hand down Nala’s head, telling her it's okay until she settles down.
“That’s because she is. Sorry about that,” I murmur to the couple, who shrug it off with wary smiles. “Let’s go home, Nala.” Understanding exactly what I’m saying, she trots out the door of the shelter and hops right into the backseat of the truck when I open the door for her.
Settling into the front seat next to Hudson, he takes my hand, plants a sweet kiss on the back of it, and we drive off.
I can’t remember a time when I felt as happy and content as I do now.
Everything feels so right.
Famous last words, I guess.
Sixteen
Summer
We ended up getting way more than a collar and a leash at the pet store. In all the excitement of finally getting the puppy he’d been asking for for years, Hudson went a little overboard. The store allows you to bring your fur baby inside with you, so Hudson suggested we let Nala pick her own toys. Except any toy that she sniffed for longer than a passing glance, he picked up and put in the cart. Twenty-two toys. I counted each one that was dropped in.
Toys, leash, collar, dog food, dog bowls, and an overwhelming number of treats later, Hudson has decreed that we might be set. We’re almost home with a happy dog hanging out the half-opened window when my phone vibrates in my back pocket at the same time Hudson’s lights up with an incoming text. A message in the group chat.
“It’s from Mason,” I say out loud since Hudson is driving. I tap on my screen to see what it says. “It’s a screenshot. Mason, thank you for your interest in our Landscape and Wildlife Grant for emerging and unknown photographers. We have reviewed your portfolio and are pleased to announce… No freaking way! He got it!” I holler and turn to Hudson. His face is lit up, a blinding smile stretching across it as I reach over and smack his shoulder several times out of excitement. “He freaking got it! This is the best day ever. Oh, my Goddess. We need to celebrate. What’s his favorite food? Why don’t I know that already?”
“Take a breath, pretty girl. It’s probably a tie between Maverick’s chicken piccata and a nice steak and potatoes dinner.” He’s mocking me, chuckling at my excitement, but I couldn’t care less. Nothing is dimming the pride I feel for my mate.
“Well, seeing as how I’m not Maverick, let’s just do steak and potatoes. Can we make a quick stop at the grocery store? You’ll have to stay in the car with Nala while I get the food.”
“Uh uh. No way am I letting you go in alone. You stay in the car with the new guard dog. I’ll get the food.” His face is stern, daring me to argue.
“We both know Houston’s been tailing us since we left the house. I wouldn’t be alone, but fine. I’ll stay with Nala while you run the errands. Twist my arm.” He winks at me, not rising to my bait, and more than happy to do the shopping, it seems. Something Jade, but especially Connor and Brody, would not have been caught dead doing.
An omega’s duty.
The car is whipped into a spot close to the grocery store doors, and Hudson instructs me to lock the car behind him as he jogs inside, leaving me with Nala. But, just as I knew, a familiar black SUV pulls into a spot a few places down moments later, and the driver doesn’t get out to go into the store. I wave at Houston to let him know he’s not that sneaky, but the window is too tinted to see his response. Wells would have rolled the window down and made some silly face back at me, but not Houston. Something tells me I’ll never crack open his shell. That steel exterior that gives nothing away. Even if they’re employed by Pack Whitlock for a year, he’ll remain a mystery; I’d bet all the money in my now apparently sizable bank account.
Twenty minutes later, Hudson throws a dozen bags in the backseat with Nala–way more than we need for a steak and potatoes dinner–and we pull out of the parking lot to head home. On instinct, my eyes snag on the side mirror to watch Houston pull out behind us. But the SUV doesn’t move right away.
My brows furrow.
Weird.
We get all the way to the light where we’re turning onto the main road before I see the tail lights illuminate and the vehicle pulls out of its spot.
Only Brooklyn’s car is in the garage when we pull up to the house. Maverick texted to say he was taking Mason out for a few celebratory drinks before dinner, so it’s just the three of us until then. Well, four, if you are counting our new furry pack member. Excitement courses through me at the idea of introducing Brooklyn to Nala. A giddy sort of happiness that makes me want to let out a little scream or shake off some of the feeling.
I hop out of the car and open the back door. “Come on, Nala,” I coo, “Let’s go see your other mom.” When I reach in to grab some of the dozens of bags of food and dog supplies, Hudson stops me.
“I’ve got these, pretty girl. You go find Brooklyn. She’ll be more excited about a dog in her very clean house if you’re the one telling her.”
My head whips around to see if he’s serious. The grin on his face tells me I have nothing to worry about, but all of a sudden, nerves wrack me. What if she really isn’t happy with having a dog running about?
No part of me is capable of giving Nala up now that I’ve met her. Now that we’ve already bonded. So when we get inside, and I head through the house in search of my alpha, I turn to Nala trotting beside me and whisper, “You have to be on your best behavior, okay? No going to the bathroom in the house, no chewing up expensive pillows, or peeing on priceless rugs. Capiche?”
Tail wagging aggressively and tongue lolling out of her mouth, I’m sure she has not understood a thing that I’ve just said. I sigh. “It’s going to be okay. You were a police dog. Surely that means you’re already housebroken and well-trained.” I’m talking not to Nala now but to myself.
I finally find Brooklyn in her room, sitting on her bed with her laptop resting on her outstretched legs. There is a focused frown on her face as she stares at the screen, typing relentlessly. I think about turning around and coming back when she isn’t busy, but then Nala lets out an impatient bark, and Brooklyn's head pops up, surprise limning her gorgeous gray eyes.
Shoulders back, I try to throw some confidence into my gait as I stalk to her bedside. Nala follows right at my hip.
“And who might this be?” Brooklyn says, humor in her voice.
That’s a good sign.
“Nala. We rescued her from the pound this morning. She was set to be euthanized next Wednesday. And she’s a retired police dog.”
“Well, aren’t you gorgeous,” Brooklyn murmurs as Nala approaches her with caution. The hair on the back of her neck sticks up ever so slightly, and Brooklyn extends her hand for Nala to sniff. And she does. After sniffing the back of her hand and glancing up at me–seemingly to see if we like her–the hair sits back down, and her tail starts up its dance again.
Brooklyn laughs, a husky, alluring sound that immediately has my blood heating as Nala jumps up on the bed for extra love. At least she’s already making herself at home. My heart warms as my protective puppy gives sweet, slobbery kisses over as much of Brooklyn as she can. Not that she minds, it seems. Her laughter fills the room as she pets Nala all over.
“Okay, you love. That’s enough. Down,” she chuckles, and to my surprise, Nala barks and obeys immediately. She bounds off the bed and runs to the door but doesn’t leave. Instead, she circles a few times in one spot before plopping on the ground and laying her head on her front paws.
“Come here,” Brooklyn purrs after setting her laptop on the bedside table. My feet move without any hesitation. I crawl up onto the bed to sit beside her, but she takes it a step further and wraps one arm around me, using the other to pull both my legs over hers. There isn’t an inch of space separating us this way, and I cuddle down a little further to get comfortable, wrapped in her warm embrace. “Hey,” she says, and tilts my chin up with a finger, “Are you happy?”
She looks at Nala briefly, but the question feels more loaded than that. Like she’s still worried about the way she moved me in, about how I feel with my place in the pack.
I answer her unspoken question instead. “After I ran from my old pack, I spent months wondering what my life would look like. Worrying that I’d have to take suppressants my whole life, struggle through heats alone, and run every day until either they died or I did.” Her eyes shudder briefly at that, but I continue. “I thought I’d never be happy again. That I’d spend the rest of my life alone. Packless. Now I have four mates, sent to me from the Goddess herself. I have the sweetest new puppy. A job I love. For the first time in a while, I feel safe. So…yeah, alpha,” I whisper breathily, “I’m happy.”
Silver lines her gray eyes, and I feel myself start to tear up, too, as she looks at me with a deep, unending devotion and says, “I love you.”
My words come out sounding choked. “I love you, too.” Then her lips are on mine, and her tongue sweeps into my mouth with thorough, lazy strokes. The hand on my cheek moves back so she can snake her fingers through my hair and tug a little. A moan escapes me at the movement, her soft lips not leaving mine for a single breath. We sit like that for a while, my legs thrown sideways over hers as we get lost in each other. But then her hand leaves my hair, and I feel the back of her fingers trail down across my throat, a whisper of a touch, and continue south to ghost over my breast.
I suck in a breath at the touch, and she takes the opportunity to move from kissing my lips to trailing light, biting marks across my jaw, down to my neck, and along my collarbone. I throw my head back to give her better access, and she takes full advantage. “Right here,” she groans, biting a little harder on the junction between my neck and shoulder. “I’m going to bite you here so everyone knows you’re mine. So you know who you belong to.” The primal part of me, the part so ingrained in my biology to want to be possessed, preens at the growl in her voice.
An alpha claiming her omega.
Her hands find the hem of my shirt, and I lean away from her just enough to help her pull it off so I’m left in only my simple black bra and light blue jeans. Soft hands wrap around my ribs, right under the band of my bra and her thumbs stroke lightly over the exposed skin. Brooklyn’s eyes are a little glazed as she stares at me, her scent spiking in the room, and she leans down to place a featherlight kiss on the top of each of my breasts.
My heart rate spikes and I feel slick starting to pool at my core. The build-up is driving me crazy, and lust pools in every crevice of my being.
“Please, Brooklyn. Touch me,” I beg. But she growls softly, and I quickly amend it to, “Please, alpha.” Her purr of satisfaction sends a shiver crawling down my spine. Suddenly, she moves so quickly that I startle, and in the next second, she’s throwing my pants across the room as I gape at her. I’m now somehow laying flat on my back with my legs thrown over her shoulders, completely exposed to her. She doesn’t waste any time before licking me from opening to clit. I grip the covers on either side of me, holding on for dear life as she starts up a relentless rhythm. A no-holds-barred, veritable feast. Alternating between sucking my clit, giving teasing strokes with her tongue, and hard, fast circles with her thumb. My release barrels through me so fast and surprising that I shout, screaming her name as I clench around nothing.
Most people would stop, smug in their satisfaction at getting off their partner. But Brooklyn doesn’t miss a beat, not stopping for me to recover as she thrusts in two fingers, curling them to drag along the rough, oh-so-sensitive spot inside me.
I can’t tell if I’m sobbing, begging, or pleading. Maybe a mix of all three as Brooklyn pumps her fingers in and out of me, hard and fast. Merciless.
There is a tearing sound that I vaguely realize is the comforter ripping beneath my ironclad grip.
The pressure starts to build a second time, the feeling more powerful, more intense than the first. With her fingers still moving in me, my mate plants one then two trailing kisses along the inside of my thigh before…
“Ahhh!” I moan my release as her teeth sink into the meaty flesh of my thigh, right below my underwear line. It won’t create a bond outside of a heat, but it can still be a powerful aphrodisiac under the right circumstances.
“So perfect.” She kisses over the bite mark.
“So beautiful.” A kiss on my hip.
“Kind.” Up along my stomach.
“Smart.” Between my breasts.
“Tender and sweet.” She flicks her tongue over one peaked nipple and the next, making my core flutter with a small aftershock.
“Mine,” she growls against my lips in a final, rough claiming. My grip on the comforter relaxes, fingers a little stiff from squeezing so tight for too long, and I bring my hands up and weave them into Brooklyn’s hair to hold her head to mine.
Using my grip on her, I pull her head back just enough to lock eyes with her, grin, and whisper, “My turn.”
“Well, it’s about damn time! I thought I was going to have to come drag you guys out by your toes,” Mason shouts as Brooklyn and I walk hand-in-hand into the living room. It smells amazing, and I feel just a little bad that I not only left Hudson to bring in all the stuff we bought but to cook the meal I suggested in the first place.
“Ignore him,” Maverick says, walking up from behind us on silent feet and scaring the life out of me. “He had a few too many at happy hour.” His eyes shine with laughter as he stares at his very tipsy boyfriend and gives me a quick, passing kiss as he makes his way to the kitchen where Hudson is plating the food.
The dining table is already set with silverware, napkins, and drink glasses. There doesn’t appear to be anything for me to help with, so I walk over to Mason, and Brooklyn joins Maverick and Hudson in the kitchen. “Good day?” I smirk at my mate.
He wraps me in a tight hug, stumbling slightly and making me take a little of his weight. “The best day,” he agrees, slurring just a teensy bit. Enough that I know he’s been drinking, but not enough to make him belligerent. I reign in my laugh at the half-drunken grin he gives me.
“Congratulations, Mason. I am so proud of you.” I throw every ounce of sincerity I can into it, and the drunken grin morphs into a watery, proud smile before he kisses me. He tastes like his usual summer rain but mixed with whiskey.
Mason tries to deepen the kiss, but something nudges between our shins, breaking us apart; I laugh and bend down to scratch behind Nala’s ears.
“Wha– WHO IS THIS?” Mason yells and drops to his knees. I want to warn him to let her sniff him first, but he already has Nala wrapped up in a giant hug and is nuzzling her snout before I can utter a word of caution. Apparently, I didn’t even need to, though. Nala’s tail is swishing back and forth while she gives frantic kisses all over Mason’s face, barking happily at him as he laughs.
“That’s Nala,” Hudson chuckles, walking over with a plate in each hand to set on the dining table. “Here I was thinking she came pre-wired to only love Summer. But looks like Mason makes the cut, too.”
It’s an effort not to roll my eyes at my big, goofy alpha. “Nala loves all of us.”
“Sure, sure,” he agrees quickly, nodding sagely. “Dinner’s ready!”
Two clicks of my tongue has Nala following me to my seat and sitting obediently at my side. My cooed, good girl, and generous scratches earn me a few licks on the back of my hand.
“Case and point.” I hear Hudson mumble, and I raise a brow at him.
What was that? I say with my eyes, and he answers with an innocent expression.
Mason takes his seat on my right, Mav next to him. To my left, Brooklyn takes what could be the head of the table, and Hudson sits right across from me. Nobody waits to start passing around the big salad bowl or the mashed potatoes and broccoli, all in separate bowls in the center of the table. Each plate already has a steak that Hudson grilled outside, much to Mason’s obvious delight. Since he didn’t even wait for the sides to come his way before digging in.
“Debishhu,” Mason exclaims. Or tries to. His mouth is stuffed full of food, making the words come out more of an incoherent mumble.
“What?” I chuckle.
He holds up a finger, chews for a few seconds, and swallows so much food in one go that I cringe a little. “I said, ‘delicious.’ Best steak you’ve ever made, Hud.” Then he’s cutting into his steak again, ignoring the laughter echoing around the table at him.
A nudge at my calf has me looking down to see Nala giving me her very best puppy dog stare, to which I tell her she is already a spoiled princess and give her a few bites of my steak. When she sees I’m not going to give her any more, she turns to Brooklyn.
