Page 48 of Sawyer

Because you want what they are offering to be real.

“Yes,” Sin says, gripping my hips.

“You don’t need to touch me to present that we are a pack,” I protest, even though I want them to touch me.

“Oh, but we do, baby girl,” Rumor says, and that damn endearment sends a wash of slick to rush from my core. “Otherwise, you won’t smell like ours.”

“We’ll even make it official,” Sin whispers, the scent of his arousal deepening in the air as he rubs himself against me.

I can’t think as their scents assault me. “Why?” I blurt out, because I feel the need to explain myself. “I’m no one to you, to any of you. I’m just a gamma reporting on political injustice. I’m a journalist with a sketchy past and a social media following.”

Bryn smirks at me, biting his lip and drawing my gaze to where he tortures the plush, pillowy skin.

“Why not?” Rumor says instead, slamming his finger on the button to get the elevator rolling again.

Why not?

I agreed to Sin because he satisfied an itch I had, but all three of them, all of us pretending to be a pack, isn’t something I signed up for.

As one, we step away from each other to face the elevator door, where I hope no unfortunate soul stands when they open. Otherwise, they are going to get slapped in the face with alpha pheromones.

Why not?

Because at the end of this, I’m the one who is going to get hurt when they walk away, or worse…when they find an omega to share, and that I won’t survive.

Sawyer

Choking on pheromones and lust, I stumble out of the tight elevator. Never in all my life have I felt as small as I do right now, nor have I ever been wound as tightly as I am. My body pulses with a need that only the men following me can fill—a need that I thought I could handle, but now, with them glued to my side, I’m not so sure I can handle them.

Individually? Sure.

All of them at once, every day, until they figure out what’s happening in Terra? I’m not even sure. I know I’ll have to share everything I’ve collected over the years with them. Though I’m realizing it isn’t much.

“I need to make a phone call.” Rumor steps up beside me, wrapping his fingers around my bicep. His fingertips press gently into the soft flesh of my skin. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I roll my eyes because I intend to do something stupid, like sneak out of the bathroom window, go to lunch with my cameraman like I promised, and then head to the other bar in the area and find out who else is missing.

“Sawyer.” Rumor steps close, his scent washing over me—fresh leather that deepens as he leans down to speak against my earlobe. “If you run, I’ll have to chase you, and I’m not sure you’re ready for the punishment that follows. I promise you, baby girl, I will always find you.”

Scorching fire lights up every nerve in my body, and I refrain from moaning and allowing my eyes to roll into the back of my head at his words and his touch.

“Well…” I clear my throat and use my very best reporter voice. “I should have worn my running shoes.”

Huffing a breath, he steps back and turns to Bryn. “Don’t let her out of your sight, Superman.”

“I hadn’t planned on it.” Bryn’s timbre rumbles through me, reminding me I need a minute.

Not convinced, Rumor walks away with a phone already pressed to his ear, his boots barely making noise on the tile. His eyes scan the exits as he steps through the revolving doors and out of my sight.

One down, two to go.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I just need to use the ladies’ room.” I don’t turn to the guys since I do not have the best poker face. No matter how hard I try, my face gives me away every time, and I can only focus on keeping my scent reduced. This is the only time I’ll curse those damn stimulants.

My heels clack as I head to the nearest ladies’ room with the two alphas behind me. People stare as we pass, their gazes curious and full of intrigue. Sin’s face is well known, and while they don’t fall at his feet, they stop as we walk by and snap pictures.

Wonderful, I’m about to become the front page on some shitty tabloid.

My palms slam against the door as I rush inside, and luckily, they don’t follow me in.