by Kathryn Moon
“I think that’s normal,” she mumbled against my lips.
She pulled away, and Caleb opened the door for both of us. Lola’s hand slipped into mine as we headed for the office building’s elevators.
“It wasn’t fun or anything, but I can’t say it felt pointless. I think…I think this is just going to wear me out for a while. I feel like I’m hungover? Kind of nauseous.”
I raised my arm and smiled as Lola immediately tucked herself into my side. Caleb moved up to her other side, catching her hand in his and raising it to his lips.
“We’ll get home, make some ginger tea, and get a warm bath going,” Caleb said as we stepped into the elevator.
“I can sit on the ledge and give you a head and shoulders massage,” I offered.
“Mmm, now I just sound high maintenance,” Lola said, but I caught her smile in the reflection of the closing doors. “I do have some joints from one of Baby’s alphas that sound nice though. It might help to kind of turn the volume down on my head.”
I blinked. Lola had weed? Would she share? If she did though, we’d probably end up with everybody but Caleb and Wes high.
“That sounds like a very good plan,” Caleb said with a nod.
When we made it to the garage, Caleb volunteered to drive, and I slid into the backseat to hold Lola for the ride home. I wanted to ask her a million and one questions about her session, but before I could decide if that was okay or where to start, Lola spoke.
“Can I have a little bit of a distraction?”
I swallowed my questions down quickly and relaxed as Lola leaned into me, adjusting her head on my shoulder.
“Of course, love. Do you want music?” Caleb asked.
“Mmm, no. Tell me how you go about working for your clients. Do they tell you what they want or…?”
Caleb pulled us out of the garage and onto the city streets, sliding into the slow flow of post-rush-hour traffic. “I like to do some interviews to get to know them, have them show me some visual inspirations they like, that kind of thing. But I also try and talk to them about their routines and what they’re hoping to improve in their life. Someone who wants to be more organized needs beautiful and functional storage systems, ones that are easy to form a habit around. Someone who wants to cook more needs a social kitchen that’s easy to navigate and work in. Are you considering taking me up on my offer to help you with your room?”
It was a relief to me not to hear it as the guest room anymore, although I still thought we needed to find a way to give Lola an equal amount of territory to claim in the house.
“I think so. I never really got around to working on my last apartment or any of the ones before. For all my personal taste when it comes to clothes and makeup, I’m kind of lost when it comes to interiors,” Lola said. Her eyes were drifting shut and her face was pale, although I wasn’t sure if that was the nausea or exhaustion’s fault.
“You’ve got Caleb giddy at the thought,” I told her, and savored the smile over her lips.
“Give me five adjectives for a space you’d love that come to you off the top of your head,” Caleb said over his shoulder.
“Mmm, romantic,” Lola said, her brow furrowing with thought. Romantic was good. I liked a romantic bedroom. “Sacred. Eclectic. Um…I…want it to be private. Is that okay? A space to share with just myself?”
The naughty fantasy in my head burst like a bubble, but what was left behind was a strange and gentle happiness. The only thing I wanted as much as Lola forming a bond with Caleb—and me—was her making our home into hers. Claiming room for herself was important in that. She knew she was welcome with us in our rooms regardless.
“Absolutely,” Caleb said.
“Okay, and then colorful. Kind of…dense.”
I stifled my laugh at the brief flare of panic from Caleb. His expertise was in neutrals. But he would manage.
“I accept this challenge,” Caleb answered.
Lola bit her lip, eyes narrowing as she stared out the window. I stroked my fingertip down the length of her nose, making her eyes cross before she looked up at me. “And?”
“And I want a bigger tub,” Lola whispered.
“Done,” Caleb said, so quickly it made Lola jump. “If I’m redoing the bedroom, I’m certainly redoing that bathroom.”
I winked at Lola, and she melted back into my side, eyes falling shut in an aimless doze for the remainder of the ride home. Caleb was right. She was ours, mine. The bond would happen when Lola threw Caleb down on the bed and told him it would. I just wanted to make sure I was on hand to enjoy the show.
Twenty-Three
Lola
“Knock—”
“Get your cute butt in here,” Wes growled, spinning in his office chair and holding his arms out for me.
I laughed and crossed the space, helping myself to Wes' lap. He tugged me close, straddling me over his legs and letting my toes dangle over the floor. When I tried to scoot back, he pulled me forward, grunting and grinning as I rocked over him.
I raised an eyebrow.
“In the mood for an afternoon quickie?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Tempted, I glanced at his desk, but it was a mess compared to Cyrus’ and that really wasn’t the reason I’d come to talk to him.
“Hold that thought,” I said, tapping Wes’ chin as he leaned forward for a kiss. “Mmph. Mphseriousesss.”
I moaned as Wes licked and nipped at my lips, his hands rocking me over his crotch. He was growing stiff against me, and I tried to stamp down the lust stirring up in my veins—helped by Wes’ own enthusiasm—to focus on why I’d come to talk to him.
It was a lazy Sunday and the whole pack was home, and I was feeling a little less foggy after a few days of a nasty therapy hangover. Which was a scientific thing, as it turned out, and knowing so left me feeling less shabby about the struggle to get back out of the dark parts of my head.
Wes sighed and sagged against the back of his chair as soon as I started whimpering, a teasing triumph twisting his lips.
“So what did you need, sweetheart?”
Well shit, now I needed Wes.
“Um…” Oh right. “Um, the police called me. They said Indy was spotted in Uptown last night.”
“Oof. Okay.” Wes huffed and rearranged me to sit sideways over his lap, spinning us to his computer as I wrapped my arms around his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve got them talking to Garret and he sent me that text this morning. It wasn’t real close to us, and it took a while to ID him.”
I wasn’t sure if it was just that we had a bond now and that kept Wes pretty chipper, but he didn’t feel nearly as stressed about the call as he seemed a few weeks ago. Then again, I didn’t really either.
“You didn’t tell me,” I said, drumming my fingers on his shoulder.
Wes’ eyebrows rose and he petted over his bite on the back of my neck, sunshine running through me at the simple touch. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to know. Seemed before like you preferred me handling it without you having to hear too much about it?”
“That’s true, I suppose. I think I want to be kept in the loop now.”
Wes nodded. “Deal. Okay, so in that case. Garret got a few more details out of his contact. Indy went to check in on an old Hangman, someone who stepped out before the raid last year? A fight broke out in the bar and according to witnesses Indy was…rebuffed. Sounds like he has about six guys on his team and they’re all pretty wet behind the ears.”
“I guess it makes sense that he’s not the most popular guy,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. “What about…has he tried contacting me anymore?”
“So…yeah. That I have been keeping from you. I think he’s onto my involvement because he’s sending messages to your old number but they seem…directed more at us. But before you get stressed, just know, it’s a lot of empty goading.”
“But he’s talking about the pack?” I asked, biting my lip.
“Don’t take this worry on, sweetheart. I’v
e got all kinds of security covered. Your old place until we clear it out. Everyone’s offices. This house is secure too. No sign of anyone out of the ordinary, and it’d be pretty easy to spot on a street like ours,” Wes said.
“But that’s not going to be the end of it,” I said, staring at Wes and holding that bright gaze of his.
He licked his lips and frowned. “Probably not. And I don’t want you feeling like you’re under house arrest or anything but…”
I shrugged. “But I need to keep being careful. Stanmore and home unless I’m with pack.”
Wes winced. “Do you mind?”
“Do I mind spending all my time with any of six deliciously handsome men who took me on when I was struggling to cope with like…everything, including myself? No, I’m pretty into that,” I said, and I answered Wes’ growing smile. “If in another year we’re still staring down the barrel of the Indy problem, then…maybe.”
“Won’t be an issue by then, sweetheart,” Wes said, leaning in and kissing my chin.
“I like your confidence,” I said, marveling at the rock solid calm coming from Wes in our bond. There was a little flicker of guilt, but it was quickly squashed by determination, and I took another kiss from his lips to reassure him of my absolute faith in his ability to remove Indy from our lives. “Now…how about that quickie?”
Wes purred and I giggled as he lifted me up from the chair, hoisting me around his waist. “Sweetheart, you ever heard of the position Wesley Wallbanger?”
I snorted and shook my head. “Not even the drink.”
“That’s 'cause we’re about to make it up,” Wes said, carrying me to an open space of his office wall, fixing me there between the flat surface and his very muscly one.
He set my feet on the floor, and we both hurried to undress ourselves, me slipping out of the pajama shorts I’d still been wearing. I grabbed Wes by the shoulders as soon as I stepped out of them and jumped, his hands catching me by my thighs just in time, his pants pushed just far down enough to give me access.
“Now, I want you to tell me loud and clear when I hit a good spot, Lola,” Wes said. And then he lined himself up and drove home, filling me in three quick, rough thrusts.
My voice was hoarse before I left the room, wobbling away on weak legs as Wes caught his breath and went back to work, my scratches on his back exposed proudly to the room.
One very long shower and very lovely nap in the sun next to Matthieu—who worked on clearing out his emails while running his fingers through my hair—later, I went to change in my room. The pack wanted to go out for dinner to celebrate my bondings, and I wanted to choose something pretty that Rake had picked out for me.
On the way to my room I slowed in the hall, the sounds of Nina Simone coming from Cyrus’ little studio space. From the cracked doorway, I could smell Cyrus’ champagne and fresh paint. I wondered if he’d be annoyed with me for taking a peek of him at work, and then decided with the new take on our relationship, a little annoyance might suit me very well. I leaned into the door and it swung in silently.
Cyrus’ back was to me, wearing a faded old blue silk shirt with its sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had a messy palette of color balanced on one knee and a side table next to him littered with brushes and palette knives and stained jugs of water. What was most shocking was the face on the canvas and the slight dread the image left me with.
“You’re painting me?”
Cyrus painted portraits when his relationships ended, not when they began. I wanted to take one of the jugs of foggy water and toss it at the image, shocked by how unhappy I was to see myself on his canvas.
“Hey!” He twisted to face me, smile bright and then faltering as he got a look at my face. “Oh, hey, no. Come here.” I hesitated, and Cyrus’ voice lowered. “Pet.”
For an untrained submissive, I had a few things down right. I stumbled toward Cyrus and he set his palette aside, pulling me against him.
“Sunshine, look at it,” Cyrus said softly, squeezing my side.
I was looking at it. It looked like the others. My face was on a dark, shifting, shadowy background, and I was amazed at how well Cyrus had captured my features without reference. But still, there I was, the left half of my face in shadow and the right half glowing with a spotlight. I recognized the girl in shadow more than the glossy glittering version. I knew those dark circles under my eyes, I knew that vaguely horrified look in my eye, the downward slant of my lips. Cyrus had captured the me of two months ago, the girl who’d shuddered and cowered in front of him in a dark elevator. But that was…
I looked over to one of the canvases leaning against a wall and finally saw the difference. All the other paintings had the right half of the face in shadow, the left in light.
“It reads left to right,” I said, echoing his explanation to me from weeks ago. Which meant that brilliant, bright, happy side of me in the portrait was…
“The future is bright, Lola,” Cyrus said softly, leaning in and kissing the corner of my jaw.
I blushed at my own error of judgment and turned to catch Cyrus’ laughing gaze.
“You painted a beginning instead of an ending,” I said, my heart pounding as he nodded.
He turned on his stool, pulling me to stand between his thighs. Seated, our faces were perfectly level, and I granted myself permission to run my hands over Cyrus’ shoulders.
“As soon as I realized what you were becoming to this pack, I knew I wanted to be sure your heart would be as safe with me as it was with the others,” Cyrus said. “You’re going to be mine someday soon, Lola.”
I nodded and I didn’t even care that for once I didn’t need to overthink it, or judge myself, or worry about what Cyrus wanted from me. Somewhere between the heat and being bonded, one thing had become clear. This pack was made for me. It wasn’t that they were the fairy tale pack every girl dreamed of because those were just cardboard cutout men. Rake was a little self-absorbed, Caleb and Wes tried to dim their own brilliance, Matthieu was getting complacent in his place at Voir and forgetting that publishing was about publicizing change, and Cyrus was coasting at Designate instead of pursuing his passion in painting. Leo was perfect though. I’d have to remember to tell him later.
“I’m done looking for different shades of love,” Cyrus said, holding my gaze.
Which was a nice thing to say, but I wondered if he thought it was what I wanted to hear. Cyrus loved falling in love, and if I had to guess, he loved the heartbreak too. But he knew the difference between those relationships and the one we were forming, and that was all that mattered to me.
“Does it change your love for Rake to start something new with me?” Cyrus frowned and his head shook so I continued. “Then discover as many shades of love as call to you. You’re going to be mine, too.”
He blinked and then beamed at me. “Noted, although we'll see who turns out right.”
“Deal. Also, it’s time to get ready for our dinner date,” I said.
“Mmm, also noted,” Cyrus said, holding the back of my thighs.
He leaned forward and I grinned, greedily accepting the offered kiss, stealing hungry nibbles from his full lips and listening to him purr in response. I pushed my luck, slipping my tongue into his mouth and curling it around his, enjoying the thrum of his purr in my mouth. Cyrus pulled away with a growl and I tightened my grip on his shoulders.
“Pet, did I give you permission to take control?” Cyrus asked lowly, eyes narrowing.
Swoop went my belly.
“No, Boss,” I said, shaking my head, legs squirming to create friction.
Cyrus’ hand snapped lightly on my ass, and I stiffened with a gasp. “What time is it?”
“Um…five-thirty.”
“Then we have plenty of time for a lesson before dinner,” Cyrus said. I bit my lip as heat pooled in my core, and Cyrus soothed over the rounded flesh he’d swatted. “What is it?”
“Just um…my back is a little bruised from wall sex with Wes, so can we w
ork around that?” I asked.
Cyrus nearly fell off his stool laughing.
Twenty-Four
Rake
“Rake. Rake please,” Lola hissed as I bounced her over my cock, my hands tight on her hips. “Please, enough!”
I’d woken this morning to Lola trying to sneak out of my bed. The sight of her ass wiggling, still pink from Cyrus’ playful spanks the night before, made me decide it was really time for some morning sex with my girl. But this time, I didn’t want Cyrus leading the show, which meant we needed to be quiet out on the couch in my sitting room so we didn’t wake him.
Despite her begging for a break, Lola’s hips were grinding down to meet mine rather than rising to get away. I rubbed the buzzing vibrator quickly over her clit until she tensed and clamped down on my cock, dragging another orgasm out of us both with lightning bright licks of heat. I pressed my hand over her mouth, stifling her pretty, broken cry as she bowed back, the ends of her hair tickling my thighs. She fell forward and I buried my own groan against her throat, my hips still bucking up into hers as I pumped release into her until it started to drip out again over my balls.
“Fuck,” Lola panted, the word muffled behind my palm. She rocked, working through an aftershock as her arms circled my neck. “Wow, hi.”
I laughed into her hair, pulling my hand from her lips and rubbing it over her cool, bare back. “Hi. Good morning.”
“Mmm. I think I’m going to have to pretend to take up horseback riding to explain why I’m going bowlegged,” Lola said.
“Lollipop, everyone knows you’re in our pack now. Pretty sure they know exactly who you’ve been riding,” I said, and she huffed and nipped my ear lobe.
God, I loved this girl. I was tempted to just stay here like this until her little sighs and her simple scent and her wiggling got me hard again. If she was going to be walking funny, might as well make the most of it.
