by Jayce Carter
Tiffany sat on the bed, then flopped backward, arms spread out and legs hanging off the end. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. I think alphas are spoiled and used to getting their way, so they throw tantrums when they have to change.”
Marshall shifted the bed when he sat. “Fair enough, though I suggest you not tell Kieran he’s having a hissy fit. He seems the type who might take that personally.”
The memory of Kieran putting her over his lap rushed over her. It hit her so fast, her skin warming, her pussy growing wet, that she pulled in a shaky breath. “I did once, and no, he wasn’t a fan.”
Tiffany expected a growl. She expected Marshall to react to what was clearly arousal aimed at another alpha. It was what Kane would have done, what Kieran would have.
Instead, his soothing chuckle came as he stretched on the bed beside her. “That doesn’t surprise me. Neither does that blush on your cheeks. I’m going to guess whatever his response was, you weren’t all that opposed to it.”
Tiffany rolled to her side, needing to read him. “Why aren’t you jealous? You said you liked me, but you don’t get upset over them.”
He rolled toward her, mirroring her stance. “Because I’m not the jealous type. Maybe it’s because of my job, because I’ve seen how fast everything can get taken away. I guess it makes me wonder what the point of jealousy is.” He set a hand on her hip. “The fact is that a body isn’t a consumable. It isn’t something that gets used up or ruined. A person isn’t less because they’re shared.”
Shared. It created scenarios in her mind so fast she couldn’t help the way her heart sped.
Shared made her think about lying flat while Kane leaned over her, while he pressed her breasts together to create space for him to thrust into. Kieran would spread her thighs wide and take her cunt, deft fingers on her clit. And the man beside her now? He’d slide past her lips, feeding himself to her inch by inch.
Even the way he spoke made her think he enjoyed watching, that as he fucked her mouth, his gaze would take in the sight of the other men taking her, using her.
“Your scent is irresistible,” Marshall whispered. “I know they might be fighting this, they might be stubborn, but I think you like the idea more than you let on.”
Tiffany placed a hand on his chest, pushing back enough for her to take a breath and clear her head. “Dealing with one alpha seems like a lot of work. Three would be insanity. Claire might be crazy, but I’m not.”
“What have you always wanted?”
“Not three cocks.”
His chuckle warmed her cheeks. “Come on, think about it. If you could have any future, what would it be?”
Tiffany frowned as she thought about it, her foot sliding over Marshall’s calf. “I want to be happy. I want a family, and a life with a mate.”
“And you think you could only have that if you pick one mate?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, to say that she hadn’t intended to collect alphas like trophies, that screwing three different men seemed wrong and like a lot of work.
Except the future he mentioned started to form. Would it be so bad? Kieran would be gruff, strict. He’d never let her get away with anything, but the way her ass and her face had burned when he spanked her said she might not mind it. Kane would help her get into trouble, but also help to get her out of it when needed. And Marshall? He was steady, dependable, and a thinker. He planned, carefully.
She pictured dinners together, all four of them around a table. She heard the fights over the remote when they watched TV, when they all wanted something different on.
She thought about having kids, about the support of three to lean on, and what sort of family that would create.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“Life doesn’t always go the way we expect or plan, but that doesn’t make it wrong. Give it some thought.”
Tiffany slid her hand down his chest, tracing the buttons of his shirt, pressing against each as she passed. “My parents were happy. It seems like you don’t see many alphas and omegas who make a good life for themselves, but I had that. No man loved his mate more than my father loved my mother. When he’d get home from work, he’d sneak up behind her, grab her hips, plant her on the counter and kiss her. I knew never to interrupt, because that was important. It was their ritual, like this sacred thing that I got to watch.” She slipped her fingers beneath his shirt, stroking his heated skin. “It was like watching magic, the way he’d stare at her, the way a touch of her hand could calm him. I wanted that. I still do. Claire told me when I ran, when they were going to register me, that relationships like that don’t exist, but I know they do.”
“And that’s why Randy was able to trick you, wasn’t it?”
She sighed, not wanting to remember. “I wanted that life so badly, I made myself believe he could give it to me. I’ve always been willing to rush to get what I want. Stupid, I guess.”
Marshall groaned when she slipped her fingers below the waist of his slacks. “Not stupid, just hopeful. You know what you want, and that’s more than most people can say.”
“And what do you want?”
“Peace. I want to go to bed at night knowing I have what matters to me, that it’s not going anywhere, that I won’t lose it or ruin it or risk it.” He answered in a low voice, as if he didn’t want to answer at all. The words came out halted and full of things she couldn’t unpack, that she didn’t know him well enough to understand. Marshall wasn’t done yet, though. In a hollow voice, he added, “I guess we all learn things from our parents.”
She went to ask him what he meant, especially with the shadows that crossed his eyes, and the way time and memories clouded his words.
Instead, Kane’s voice barreled through the door. “Get your asses in here to eat or there’ll be nothing left!”
Tiffany jerked back as if caught. Funny that, even alone, she felt guilty. She didn’t want to pull away, but she didn’t want anyone fighting, either.
Marshall shook away whatever haunted him, his eyes regaining the ease he normally wore. Again, the quick change made her wonder how much he hid and why.
He gave her no time to ask or pry further, a chuckle at the way she’d pulled away. He yanked her back to him and took her lips with a kiss so good, she couldn’t think clearly enough to remember why she’d pulled away in the first place.
The idea of anyone fighting, of shame or guilt or worry mattering struck her as insane. Who cared about any of that? As long as Marshall didn’t stop kissing her like that, the rest of it could go to hell for all she cared.
Too bad kisses always ended eventually.
Chapter Twelve
Kieran laced his shoes, pulling them snug before tying them. “It doesn’t matter if you’re used to running alone. Doing so when you’re in danger would be foolish.”
Tiffany bent forward, reaching for her toes. The round of her spine, the way her tank top rode up to show the delicate curve of her lower back, the agile lines as she placed her palms to the ground had him wondering what other positions he could put her into.
Her head lifted, drawn by the deep sound he’d made. That it wasn’t fear that sprang up in those beautiful eyes but lust reminded him again why he liked her.
Liked?
Way to downplay it. Even without having fucked her yet, the bond had started to grow. His alpha side wanted her for his own, and while his own feelings grew, he knew the pull had more to do with that bond.
Not that he cared the reasons behind it. If he wanted her, did why matter?
She didn’t straighten, only gave him a smirk before spreading her feet out and repeating the stretch, a position even more tempting.
“You are a brat,” he said.
She didn’t deny it, reaching toward one foot then the other. “I never pictured you as a runner.”
“I wasn’t always a network engineer.”
“Oh yeah? What did you do before?”
“I served. The military instills the importance of physical t
raining.”
She stood, her gaze on him, thoughtful. “I could see that. You’ve got that order and regulations attitude. Why’d you leave?”
“I got tired of pulling the trigger from someone else. After I got out, I started my company. Bryce got out a few years later, and we started doing some work together as well.”
“Do you miss it?”
He crossed his arms and gave himself a chance to consider. “I miss the community aspect, the feeling of someone always having your back. That’s something civilian life doesn’t offer. Bryce, Joshua and Kaidan remained together, a strong unit, but I didn’t have the same experience. My job had been largely solitary, but I still had a group. After leaving, I’ve lacked that.”
Even admitting it had his skin itching. He didn’t care for advertising shortcomings or weaknesses. What was it about her that made him open his mouth and say things he’d never dare to tell another person?
Whatever it was showed when she looked at him. She didn’t mock him, didn’t laugh, didn’t make light of the confession. Instead, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Funny that despite how small she was compared to him, or that her arms barely wrapped around his wide frame, that she didn’t even clear his shoulders, her hug made him feel something.
Like he had a place? Like he could have a place? Like that sense of belonging he’d missed might still be possible?
He let the thoughts linger for only a heartbeat before pushing them away. A kiss to the top of her head was the only thank you he could muster, and as if she knew he’d reached the limit of where his emotional ability reached, she stepped back.
“How fast do you run?” he asked, changing the subject.
She lifted the other knee to stretch the leg as her gaze moved over the tree line. “Faster than you.”
“I doubt that.”
Her laugh had him smiling back, the fun odd but welcome. She set her leg down then hopped, one foot to the other, shaking her hands slightly. Everything she did seemed adorable, a fact he doubted would go over well with her. It was true, though. The way she warmed up, the way she laughed, the way she moved, it was all something he’d never dealt with.
He’d dealt with angry omegas, with sweet and quiet omegas, with broken omegas. Had he ever dealt with one so feisty? One who enjoyed life with such a passion?
For a man who had little passion in his life, hers intoxicated him. He had tiny tastes of it from her, glimpses into a life lived to a fullness he didn’t know how to achieve, and it made him ache for more.
The fact that she’d kept that sort of feeling despite all that had happened only reinforced the point that she was special.
Her smile turned mischievous. “Well, let’s see if you can catch me.” She took off from the porch of the cabin, toward the tree line, feet quick but loud.
Kieran gave her a head start, but not long. Thirty seconds was all he could hold himself back for before giving chase.
He had an omega to catch, and when he did?
His cock hardened at the thought.
Tiffany’s breath came out in heavy panting no matter how much she tried to slow it. She wasn’t a long-distance runner, and judging from the state of Kieran’s shoes, from the wear marks, she’d guess he was.
It made sense. Kieran was a long-haul man in general. She could see him lacing up his shoes and going out for a ten-mile run, where he wouldn’t go fast but he’d eat up mile after steady mile. He was a marathoner.
Tiffany was a sprinter. It was how she ran and how she lived her life. She went all out for a short time, almost frantic with excitement, then would rest.
It meant while she couldn’t sustain any real effort, especially against him, she had speed on her side.
Still, twenty minutes into their game and she got the sense he was toying with her.
He’d cornered her twice, but each time she’d slipped away. Did he not want the game to end?
The lust in those eyes said he wanted to catch her, but the way his running shorts had pushed out said he enjoyed the chase, too.
The drenched state of her underwear made her admit, so did she.
She lowered, crouching in the dirt, fingers against a pine tree beside her. The cloud coverage meant there was little in the way of moonlight, so she strained to find any movement, to spot his figure closing in on her.
Nothing.
It gave her time to catch her breath, to coax herself to rest, to bring her heart rate back down. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly. In. Hold it. Out. In. Hold it. Out.
Before she could think of her next plan, of how to outmaneuver Kieran again, his voice danced across her ear. “I’ve caught you, girl.”
“Not yet.” She bolted forward but didn’t make it a full step before he caught her hips in his strong, dragging her down.
They wrestled, both careful to keep it a game, but his bulk won out. In close contact, Kieran outmatched her.
“Fine, you win. Now what?”
His hips fell into the space between her thighs and rocked forward, his teeth catching her bottom lip hard enough to earn a yelp. “Now, I plan to enjoy my catch.”
His cock caught her clit through their clothing, and Tiffany let her head fall back.
Finally.
* * * *
Kane set his feet on the table, the kitchen cleaned after dinner. He’d put together the meal, some stupid part of him wanting to show off that he knew his way around a stove. They’d finished off every last bite, which meant either they’d been starving, or the food was good.
Kane figured it was the latter. Besides, fucking up spaghetti was pretty hard.
After Tiffany had helped clean up, she’d wanted to go running. Kane could have gone with her, but he hated running. It bored him, the rhythmic motion of it all, the steady pace. Nah, he tended toward things with a bit more fun. He could handle hiking, and he loved rock climbing—not that he had a chance to go often. Still, he figured him complaining the whole time would have put a damper on the event, meaning he let Kieran and Tiffany head off for their run.
He could concede a battle to win the war. Let Kieran take the run, and Kane would find another activity he and Tiffany could do. This wouldn’t be a fast win, so he settled in for the long haul.
Marshall sat at the desk on the far wall, laptop and piles of papers in front of him. He hadn’t said much, and Kane didn’t know the other alpha well, but at least he didn’t hate him. Made for a better stay, he figured.
“Are you gonna work this whole time?”
Marshall finished typing something before lifting his gaze. “No. However, I left on personal time so quickly, I wanted to review these files and assign the best doctor to take over each case.”
“I figured doctors had their shit better worked out than that. What if you got hit by a car? You don’t have someone already to take this shit over?”
Marshall flipped to the next page, speaking as he wrote. “Yes, I have someone who will step in if I need them to, but I prefer to hand cases over individually. I deal with sensitive cases and patients.”
“I heard you work with only omegas?”
Marshall nodded. “Yes. I get work from the police department and the federal level. Often omegas in cases of abuse or violence require special treatments. Their bodies don’t respond to many medications like others do, which means a specialist is helpful. Add to that the delicate nature of abuse victims, and I’d rather pick who takes what.” He tapped a page. “For example, I have a patient with a history of abuse from an alpha. However, her panic attacks are calmed by an alpha’s presence. That means that she would do best transferred to a trained alpha doctor. Another patient, however, was raped by a male beta, so she would do best with a female doctor taking her case, beta or omega. They’ll all do better with the right doctor handling the case.”
Kane frowned as he listened, as he was reminded again of how easy it would have been to have Tiffany ended up like them. Fuck, it was lucky that Claire
had been involved, that Kieran had gotten there in time. The only thing he could give that asshole was that he’d helped Tiffany, that he’d gotten her through it in one piece. Sure, she wasn’t perfect, but she’d come out of it a lot better than if Randy had won.
Fuck, if Randy hadn’t decided to go after Claire, he’d have murdered Tiffany. Would Kane have even known? Would he have found out?
Eventually, he would have. If she’d stopped responding, he’d have gone looking for an answer. Still, what would he have done?
A world without Tiffany seemed cold, dark.
He offered another question to Marshall, willing the silence to stop. “Why do you do it? Why work with omegas like that? You, you’re a fucking bleeding heart, so this shit gets under your skin. Why do it?”
“Because it needs to be done. These omegas, they’d suffer no matter what, but at least I can help. I can lessen it.”
“But why you? Out of anyone, why do you think it’s your job to do it? Bet you wake up at night seeing their faces, so why?” When he didn’t answer, Kane pushed. “Come on, we got fuck knows how much time here, give me something.”
Marshall sighed and set down the pen. “Very well. My mother was an omega. My father killed her. I do what I can to help others not suffer the same fate.”
Kane tapped his fingers against the armrest of the couch, letting the words simmer. Sure, that was something, but there was more.
Marshall wasn’t selfless only to be selfless. Fuck, few people were. They did things because they got something out of it, a feeling, a payoff. Some people did good because they liked others to see it, they liked the praise. Some did it to please a magic man in the sky, and some did it for that rush it gave them when they got to say they were a good person.
What was Marshall’s reason?
The firm set of the man’s shoulders, the buttoned-down attitude, the ‘I’m in control of shit’ attitude gave it away.
