Pack Deception: Part Two, page 6
There is a half-annoyed, half-exasperated laugh from behind us, but I can’t take my eyes away from Hudson. His eyes. Or his lips. I lean down to kiss him when a loud, shrill sound comes from down the hall. It sounds like an alarm.
I jolt, scared at the sudden screeching noise. My heart takes off, and in my mind, I’m going to the worst-case scenario. Someone broke into the house. It’s Jade, Connor, and Brody. They followed us from my apartment. Or it's a home invasion. Someone with a gun trying to rob them—us.
Mason and Maverick don’t hesitate, taking off down the hall and toward the noise—Brooklyn hot on their heels. Hudson sits us up, and we stand, following them at a much slower pace. The minute we leave the nest, he stays in front of me, covering my body from any danger we may be walking into. Since he’s in front of me, Hudson sees what the commotion is before I do. His shoulders relax when we hit the living room, and the tight hold fear had on my heart lessens.
When I walk to stand beside him, he lets me, so I know whatever it is isn’t a threat. No, definitely no threat. The scene in front of me is almost comical in a scary way. Scary because the men who are supposed to be protecting me are in the corner of the living room. Wells has the smallest member of their trio—Houston—standing on his shoulders, tinkering with the wires of a camera. The noise dies, and I see Damien, their suited-up leader type, stand with the plug in his hand.
“Fucking dumb-dicks,” he mutters. “Try getting it hooked up, then plugging it in, assholes!” Damien yells at them. Then turns to Brooklyn, who is glaring at them, looking positively murderous. It would scare me if Maverick and Mason weren’t two feet behind her smacking each other in the arm when the other cracks a smile, trying not to laugh.
Damien, completely unperturbed by Brooklyn’s angry face, turns to us. “I’m sorry for them. They really aren’t stupid; they just seem it all the time.”
A surprised laugh rips from me at his words. This coming from the man who stood like a statue, just staring, unspeaking during introductions earlier. From the guy who looks like he sleeps, eats, and breathes his polished, buttoned-up suit look. Sitting here making jokes. Or maybe not jokes per se, but he’s definitely teasing his teammates.
Albeit in a rough, slightly offensive way.
It lends a whole new light to him.
“Wells is the one who plugged it in. I told him not to,” Houston grits out. It must be taking a lot of effort to keep his body tight enough not to fall from Wells’ shoulders while he works on the security system they seem to be installing.
Wells, for all the heat he’s taking, just stands there with his hands locked around Houston’s ankles and shrugs. But the shrug makes Houston go off balance. Luckily, he throws his hands out and braces against the wall. “Stand still, you big bastard. Man hard at work up here.”
At that, Maverick snorts, but Wells just laughs along with him. Between the three of them, it’s immediately clear that Wells is the more outgoing, goofy one. Doesn’t seem to take himself or the situation too seriously. I like him right away.
As I’m looking at the duo, the living room seems really bright all of a sudden. Every light and lamp is on, and I realize it’s pitch black outside. That would be why it’s lit up like a Christmas tree in here. The drive back from my apartment was dark, but the sun had only recently set, so the sky was a dark purple, heading toward a night black. Wasn’t that only a little bit ago?
The kitchen appliances are too far away for me to make out the time, so I look around the living room and spot my phone. With a tap of the screen, it lights up, and my eyes bug out of my head.
“How in the world is it two in the morning already?” I ask incredulously. “I have to be up for work in a few hours.”
“Maybe you should call in,” Hudson says, earning a scowl from me that has him holding his hands up. “Or not. Sorry.”
“I’m going to bed,” I grumble, standing on my tiptoes to give him a kiss so he knows I’m not mad at him.
“What time do you want to leave for work in the morning, ma’am? I’m on first shift,” Houston calls from on top of Wells’ shoulders.
“Umm… seven-thirty? And it’s just Summer.” He nods respectfully. But the look on his face tells me he’s sticking with ma’am. Okay then.
When I turn to walk toward my nest, Hudson grabs my hand. “Sleep with me tonight?” He looks so eager that I melt, nodding.
“Goodnight,” I call back to everyone when Hudson starts pulling me back toward the stairs. A chorus of nights are shot back, and we’re out of sight a second later.
Hudson’s room is the one right next to my nest. Brooklyn’s is the master on the left side of the hall, and Maverick and Mason have rooms on the main level. The door snicks shut behind us as I take in his space. The king bed is in the middle of the room, sitting on a large, beautiful wooden frame. The nightstands are the same color of wood, and the wall behind them is brick. Maybe a faux brick backsplash.
The rest of the room is minimalistic and neat. A desk sits in the corner of the room with some papers strewn on it a little haphazardly. But besides that, there’s no mess in sight.
“Surprised?” Hudson laughs, making me look at him apologetically.
“I guess I just thought you’d be a little… messier?” I feel bad thinking it, but he does put off a goofy, sort of sloppy energy sometimes.
“Believe it or not, Brooklyn is the messy one.” He walks over to what must be a walk-in closet and comes back out with a shirt draped over his shoulder. If I thought it was for him, he nips that thought in the butt. “Arms,” he instructs when he reaches me. My arms go up automatically, and he peels my work blouse up and over my head. Strands of hair get pulled loose from my ponytail as the fabric tugs at it. “Turn.”
I must be in a trance because I move without question. With my back to him, he makes quick work of unsnapping my bra. It falls from my shoulders, hits the ground, and he turns me back around. Every part of me wants to lift my arms to cover myself. But he’s got his hands on my biceps as he looks his fill. The darkening of his eyes—the way his pupils dilate—keeps me rooted to the spot.
Just as I think he’s going to act on the desire swimming there, he jerks out of his trance and slips his shirt over my head. It reaches mid-thigh, practically swallowing me. There’s a soft sound as his knees hit the carpet to unbutton my slacks and peel those down next. Not waiting for instructions this time, I step out when they’re at my ankles. My hands dart out to use his shoulders for support.
Still kneeling, Hudson trails his fingers up my thighs. The gentle touch tickles and his fingers stop at the bottom of the shirt. “I’m trying to be good. You have to sleep. But you smell so good. Like gingerbread cookies. And arousal.” The grin he gives me from his spot at my feet is mischievous. My core clenches, and I know he’s right. I feel myself getting wet the longer he’s down there, touching me.
“True… but going to sleep at two-thirty instead of two won’t make mu—ahh!” With his hands still on my thighs, he doesn’t even let me finish my sentence before he hoists me up and tosses me on the bed. It’s much softer than the one in my nest, so I sink down without bouncing. At the end of the bed, I watch as he sheds his shirt and pants in record time.
The way he crawls to me is… predatory. Stark naked, muscles in his shoulders and arms bunching, and a hungry look in his eyes. On instinct, I start scooting back on the bed until I reach the headboard.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Hudson rumbles a laugh, grabs hold of my ankles, and yanks me down to him.
A laugh breaks free at the move. My beautiful, goofy Hudson, who–despite being an alpha–does not exude the most dominant air. The slap-happy grin he gives me just proves it. As much as a girl loves to be thrown around in the bedroom, variety is the spice of life, and I’d never want Hudson to change who he is.
“Well, now that you’ve got me here, what’re you going to do with me?” I grin down at him, laying on his stomach with his head between my legs.
“I can think of a few things,” he chuckles, trailing a light finger up my thigh. Up and up until he reaches my core. He ghosts his finger over my folds, barely brushing my clit, before bringing it back down to the inside of my thigh. Tingles shoot through me, and goosebumps erupt over my skin. It’s strangely erotic, the way he’s lazily touching me. Like he’s got all night and just wants to memorize every inch of me.
The familiarity in the touch alone is enough to have slick dripping from me. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him. His eyes never leave mine. Not as his hand drifts up toward my core again. Not as his thumb presses against my clit, moving in tight, maddeningly slow circles. Not as he leans forward and licks where his thumb just was.
His usually laughing eyes are now serious as he licks my pussy in slow, thorough strokes. He grips my thighs right at the junction where my panty line would be and pushes my legs open as far as they’ll go. I gasp as cool air hits me, and then he’s diving in again.
“Oh, Goddess. Don’t stop,” I moan when I feel the familiar warmth spreading through my legs. Hudson keeps up the same pace and pressure, and I start to build… and build…
“Please,” I whimper, just on the edge. Right there. He groans, and the vibration sends me over the edge. The moan I let out is deep and satisfied, and he doesn’t stop lapping at me until my muscles loosen, and I relax into the bed.
Only then does he pull away to kiss up my stomach and chest. Trailing sweet kisses on either side of my neck before pressing his lips to mine. I can taste myself on him–surprisingly sweet–but rather than be put off, it turns me on. This man is mine, and it’s written all over his face.
“Sleepy?” Hudson asks as he pulls away, eyes darting between mine.
“If you don’t fuck me right now, we’re going to have problems,” I growl, knowing he’s worried about keeping me up later.
He leans down to kiss my cheek and then whispers in my ear, “Yes, ma’am.” In seconds, he’s notched at my entrance and slides inside me.
“Fuck.” He shudders, looking down to watch as he thrusts in again and again until he’s seated to the knot. Then he looks back up at me, making eye contact again. Neither of us says another word. I just stare into his usually ocean-blue eyes–that look a little darker right now– as he fucks me. Never increasing his speed. Never breaking eye contact.
All that can be heard in the quiet of the room is the whirring of the ceiling fan and our own moans and sounds of pleasure. I wrap my legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, and he drags his hands over every curve and dip of my body.
When his thumb skates over my peaked nipple and pinches harder than I expect, my pussy contracts, squeezing him. His hips stutter for the first time, and he growls. His next thrust is harder. Not fast, just more brutal, like he can’t hold back his alpha from wanting to feel that again.
So I squeeze around him to torture my mate. Tease him.
“Ugh, fuck,” he grunts, and gives another hard thrust. “Do that again, pretty girl.” So I do. He may not be dominant, but he’s still an alpha who can be thrown into a rut. Not a full rut–not outside of a heat–but there is enough of my scent in this room now to drive him crazy.
In a swift move, he rolls over to lay on his back. “Ow, fuck,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot on the back of his head that just hit the wood headboard. I try not to laugh because I’m really turned on right now, but it is a little funny, so a giggle slips through before I can disguise it as a cough.
“Oh, is that funny, little mate?” He arches a brow at me, still rubbing his head, and this time, I don’t try to hide the laugh. His hand drops from his head to grip my waist, bends his legs to plant his heels on the bed, and thrusts up into me. With the new angle, his cock drags along that deliciously sweet spot inside me, and it cuts my laughter off immediately, turning it into a moan. He must have something to prove now because there isn’t any more soft and slow Hudson. Instead, he hammers into me, topping me from the bottom.
I lean back against his thighs so his cock drags along my G-spot with each thrust. Goddess. The pleasure is so intense I could weep from it. My breasts are bouncing with each movement, and the hungry look in his eyes as he stares at them sends me over the edge. I come shouting his name, and he pulls me down hard one last time. His knot locks in me, prolonging my orgasm. Jets of cum coat my insides as he finishes over and over. Perk of a knot. Multiple orgasms for both of us.
I collapse on top of his sweaty chest, breathing heavily.
“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers, and I jerk my head up to look at him. But his eyes are closed, and his breathing has evened out. Did he just tell me he loved me and then fall asleep?
Well… I guess that stops me from having to say it back. Do I want to? Do I love him? It’s too early, right? You can’t love someone that fast.
But it’s different for fated mates… The voice inside my head screams at me. And maybe I didn’t feel it last week. But accepting it, listening to Dr. Tanner earlier, and seeing the test results, it’s like I know in my soul that they were sent to me directly from the Goddess.
Maybe he won’t even remember telling me. That’s probably it. It was a post-orgasmic, half-asleep confession. He’ll wake up in the morning and not have any recollection. With that semi-depressing thought, I lay back on his chest to wait for his knot to deflate and fall asleep.
Seven
Summer
“Hey, pretty girl. Time to wake up.” Someone is shaking my shoulder. I try to lift my head to look at him–to turn my body at all–I really do, but I can’t. Each of my limbs feels like they’re strapped down to the bed, my eyelids are so heavy I can’t even crack them, and to top it off, my lower back hurts. Overall, I’d say getting hit by a truck and then rolling down a steep, rocky hill in a tire would feel better than this. All I can offer him is a groan. Not the fun kind, either.
“I know. I’m sorry. But Houston is waiting in the kitchen for you. You’ve gotta get up and get ready, or you’ll be late for work.” His voice is soft as he brushes his fingers gently through my hair. Somehow, I manage to crack an eye open and peek up at my mate. The smile he gives me is soft, sweet, and understanding. Which melts me. But he also looks wide awake, which has me wanting to grumble at him to go away.
“Come on, up and at ‘em,” he laughs, grabs both my hands, and pulls me into an upright position. He’s standing off to the side of the bed, so instead of getting up, I use the opportunity to procrastinate getting ready for just a little longer. I wind my arms around his middle and rest my head on his chest, breathing in his sandalwood and orange scent. It wraps around me like a soft blanket, as do Hudson’s arms. Nothing about his comfort and warmth makes me want to get up. Which must occur to Hudson, too, because in the next breath, he has me shooting out of bed to get ready for work.
“I sure do love you, you know that?” His warm, raspy laugh follows me all the way down the hall to the bathroom, where I spend the next fifteen minutes hiding from him and taking a quick shower before work.
“Summer? Can I come in?” Brooklyn’s voice is barely audible over the shower and through the closed door.
“Yeah!” I shout back and turn to shut the water off. The door creaks as it opens, and the sharp tapping on the tile tells me she’s already dressed for work and in her heels. I wrap the towel around my body that I hung over the rod and then open the curtain. In one of her arms are slacks and a dress shirt, and dangling from her other hand is the singular pair of black heels I own and the purse I take to work that usually has a manuscript or two in it.
“I figured you’d be in a hurry. The rest of your clothes have already been hung in the closet in your nest. We really need to take you shopping, by the way. You’ve got next to nothing in there.” She places the clothes on the bathroom countertop and leans her hip against it, facing me. Today she’s in a tight, knee-length burgundy pencil skirt with a white button-up. The sleeves are rolled artfully up to just below her elbow, and her heels are the same burgundy color as her skirt. I’ve never seen anything or anyone more beautiful than Brooklyn. It makes my heart race just looking at her. But instead of acting on my attraction–it’s not like I’ve got the time this morning–I focus on her words.
“I don’t need to go shopping. I’ve learned to make do with less these past few months, and it hasn’t been bad.” I shrug.
“Well, if you truly don’t want to get new things, I won’t badger you about it. But if you’re just being stubborn because you don’t want to spend our money, then you should know that our money is your money. Not only by law since you’re our mate but also because you’re our family. I already called Renee to get you added to our will and had your name put on all of our accounts. Your card should be delivered in the next week or so.” I stand there with my jaw touching the ground, gaping like a fish, and trying to come up with something to say.
But I can’t.
She grins, a toothy, self-satisfied smile, and walks over while I’m still standing there mute. Her finger tilts my chin up, and she plants a quick kiss on my lips before turning around and walking out, leaving me to get ready alone.
When I walk into the kitchen ten minutes later, hair thrown up in a neat bun and work clothes on, Houston is standing in the kitchen talking to Mason. Or rather, Mason is chattering away while flipping pancakes, and Houston stands near him with a mug of coffee in his hand, listening. None of my other mates, Wells or Damien, are anywhere else to be found.
“Hey!” Mason half yells when he sees me. “Pancakes?” I shake my head, opting for a banana out of the fruit bowl they keep on the kitchen island.
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry this morning,” I explain as he pouts at me. I walk up to him and give him a kiss on his cheek as he flips another pancake, to which he leans down slightly to give me better access.
