Page 128 of Priceless

A beautiful woman with dark hair approached us. “Are you finished?” She asked Everett.

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” Double checking the paperwork, she glanced at me. Her voice held a light accent. “We’re almost ready for you, Miss Ocean.”

“A female masseuse, please,” Everett said. I raised my eyebrows, and he shrugged. “I don’t want another man’s hands on my wife.”

“I’m sure he would be professional,” I said, even as the employee hid her smile before retreating to the reception desk.

Everett helped me up off the couch. “Professional or not. I don’t want you naked with another man. Doesn’t matter if he’s an Alpha, Beta, or Omega. Only us.”

I tried to make a sassy face and failed, because the possessiveness spread warmth through me. I liked it far more than I should.

A different woman came out from the entrance to the spa. She was blond, beautiful, and even the bland scrubs she wore didn’t hide her body. Her accent matched the others. “Micah?” She called. “You’ll be with me today.”

The air filled with a growl, and it took me long seconds to realize it was coming from me. I was the one growling, and my husbands were all staring at me.

Cameron and Everett grinned. Micah’s face was careful as he stepped close. “Princess?”

I had to force the growl to stop. “If I have to have a woman for my service, then you need a male masseuse.” Then, lower. “I don’t want her touching you.”

They were mine and if they were going to be possessive, then I was going to be possessive right the fuck back. The thought of Micah on a table with that woman spreading oil and whatever else on his skin made rage creep up beneath my skin.

Micah broke out into a smile and pulled me against his side. “You’re absolutely right.”

My fear and anger gave way instantly, my instincts soothed. He rubbed my back through the robe. “Sorry,” I whispered.

“Never be sorry for that, princess.”

Everett was already explaining at the desk. I was sure this wasn’t the first time a pack’s instincts had come out to play. Massages were intimate, and there was some relief in knowing I wasn’t isolated in my reaction.

“I’m sure she’s very nice,” I said. “And professional.”

Micah turned me to him and took his time threading his fingers through my hair and brushing it back off my forehead. “I’m not just agreeing to make you happy, Ocean. I would also be more comfortable. The only hands I truly want on me are yours.”

“Okay.”

He hugged me, tucking my face into the softness of his robe and purring until my masseuse came for me. A dark-haired woman. Not the blonde one from before. She probably was nice, but getting a massage from the person I just growled at was an awkward experience I could live without.

That being said, the massage was incredible. I needed to do this more often. Places I hadn’t even known were tight felt better. It felt like my shoulders had dropped by inches.

“I’ll take you to the recovery room,” my masseuse said. “When you’re ready.”

I groaned. “There’s a recovery room?”

“Yes.” A soft laugh. “Most feel like you do after their service, and need it.”

The room itself was filled with soft chaises and filmy curtains separating them. Snacks and drinks lined a long table, and misters filled with fresh scents made the air pleasantly damp.

Cozy and dim, it was almost like a nest without all the trimmings.

I was the only one in the room at the moment. So I got a cup of water and a plate with some dates and nuts before lounging back on one of the chairs. This might be heaven. It certainly felt that way.

The door opened a few minutes later and a man in scrubs gestured Micah into the room. He smiled when he saw me. “How was yours?”

“Amazing.”

“I’m glad.”

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