Page 42 of Pack Fever

Hearing Fever live is more captivating than any recording could ever capture.

The song reaches its climax with a high crescendo that flatlines, leaving everyone completely breathless and in their clutches. Silence engulfs us. Then an explosion of applause and cheers. Genuine grins spread on their faces, and they are already setting up for the next one.

Seth holds the mic to his mouth, announcing, “We want to share a new song with you, something I just sent to our record manager. It’s rough, but we want you to hear it first.” He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling quickly.

A ripple of excitement flares over me. When Seth glances in my direction with a captivating smile, my heart shudders, leaving me feeling like a puddle in my seat. Right now, I’m struggling to convince myself these three Alphas are not just rock stars but also ordinary men.

As the new song begins, everything else fades away.

It’s a slower number with a heavy base, the depth of Seth’s voice dominating the space. It raises effortlessly, hitting the high notes that resonate around the balcony, adding an enchanting vibe to the song. Jasper’s drumming intensifies, almost echoing the depth of emotion in the lyrics.

I’m drowning, sinking in a sea with no shore, where every breath is a memory, and the moment of coming back has gone.

I shudder in my seat as those words seize me, gripping my heart. I can’t help but be able to relate to the loss, the longing.

The tension grows, the melody wrapping around me. I’m left short of breath, deciding at that moment that I may have just heard my new favorite song of all time. I’m captivated, lost to Fever. As each song rolls, its intensity amplifies the inferno coursing through my body.

It’s uncomfortable how hot I feel. Beads of sweat are forming on my skin. I swear it’s as if the music is triggering something inside me, a reaction that’s terrifying because I think it’s bringing on another flare of my heat.

There’s no other way to explain the blaze licking between my thighs, which are already drenched. I shift in my seat, needing more of the breeze and trying to focus on the performance.

Except as the music escalates, so does my temperature.

Why does this have to happen here? Now! Terror spikes through me because I can’t have an episode in the middle of this party, surrounded by Seth’s family.

In a moment of desperation, mid-song, I rise from my seat, keeping low and darting back into the house. My heart’s pounding in my chest, and I need to find a bathroom, somewhere I can cool down and be alone to regain control.

I rush down the hall, my vision blurring with how turned on I feel, how I would do anything right now for relief. In my rush past the steps, I glance down to where I spot Seth’s father sitting on a couch in the living room, nursing a bottle of liquor. His behavior irritates me because he’s sulking instead of supporting his son.

But I don’t have time for him when my legs are wobbling, when I wish for nothing more than maybe for Jasper to be with me and ease the ache.

For a split second, my gaze locks with Seth’s dad’s, and my insides freeze.

I quickly divert my attention and rush along the hallway, convinced the bathroom has to be down this way. Summoning every ounce of willpower I have, I hold back the moan in my throat.

God, not here, please, not here.

Trying the last door, the only one not open, I rush into a bathroom, a room covered in white tiles with an enormous spa tub in one corner. Frosted windows are across two walls, along with a shelf of towels, a sink, and a door, which I soon find is a walk-in wardrobe. It’s filled with all kinds of clothes, but I can’t tell if it belongs to anyone in particular. No toilet, but that’s okay. That’s not what I need.

Rushing inside, I shove the door shut behind me. I desperately have my hands on my nipples that are so hard, they are slightly itchy. Squeezing them, as Jasper had done, has that trapped moan spilling past my lips.

It feels incredible.

I’m stumbling over to the tub, wondering if anyone will find it strange if I have an ice-cold bath. As another wave of heat pummels into me, I’m stumbling on my feet. Falling to my knees near the tub, I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm within me.

I embrace the coolness of the bathroom floor, then lean over the bath and turn on the cold water. I splash it on my face and down my neck.

Get a hold of yourself. You are not going to lose control. Please, not here.

The more water I splash on my face, the more painfully clear it becomes that nothing is helping to cool me down. I have to admit that there’s only one solution I can do to help myself.

I get to my feet and hurriedly push my hands up my skirt, then tug down my panties. They are soaked, and I bundle them near the tub. Removing my shoes, I step into the tub. If I’m going to take care of this, I don’t need to leave a puddle on the floor. In the tub, I can easily clean it up before anyone notices.

Embarrassment and the need to do this fast pummels through me. To get it done before anyone notices me gone from the concert that I can’t believe I’m missing. But the music thumps its way into the bathroom, so at least there’s that.

Driving my skirt up to my waist, I settle down on the cold porcelain, which feels incredible against my bare ass. Lying in the tub, I bend my knees just as a shudder of excitement runs through me. My pussy clamps down, and my stomach twists into knots. I crave an Alpha to be all over my body.

Pain sharpens deep in my core, one I haven’t felt so severely before. A flash of heat simmers on my skin, and sweat breaks on my brow, reminding me I have a real problem on my hands.

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