Page 81 of Bonding the Band

By the time I recovered enough to see again, Hendrix was bent over Meadow, our omega panting and looking extremely well fucked. He unraveled the knots holding my ankles in place, and I eased myself upward to free my wrists. The two of them awkwardly transitioned to lying on the bed, Meadow tucked flush against his body to accommodate his knot fusing them together.

She reached out, unbuckling the gag and setting it aside. I drew her in for a kiss, wanting to say a thousand things at once. Instead, I settled on, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Best omega ever.”

Chapter 32

Meadow

September, St. Louis

Flying to our next stop, rather than driving in the tour bus, meant I had to be frugal about what things to bring to add to my travel nest. I was excited to get back on the road, even though I’d loved the break at the pack house. Each one of the alphas had bits of nesting supplies crammed into their suitcases for me. That way, we could take moreandthey would smell like them because I had stolen a few unwashed items, which was a pretty big bonus, in my opinion. I was eager to get it all unloaded and settle in.

“You know what? It’s been far too long. I think we need to re-christen the bus!” Arlo declared as he unloaded all of the nesting supplies he’d packed for me and set them on the couch before closing up his suitcase and stashing it under one of the bunks.

I wasn’t opposed to that idea. Especially now that I had been with all the pack members. Only, now my mind kept wandering to what they would be like all at once. I had enjoyed two at once, but could I handle four? Did I evenwantto handle four?

Of course, I wanted to. They were all stupidly hot in their own rights. Together may well be the death of me, but it would be a pretty amazing way to go.

Death by multiple orgasms.

The jubilant mood that we had getting back onto the bus was quickly dimmed when the familiar, disgusting scent of funky damp laundry reached my nose and Gary walked onto the bus, wearing his usual expensive suit that was too tight around his beer belly. Following him was a younger blonde woman with her hair back in a neat bun, wearing dark leggings and a black polo shirt.

“Hello, everyone!” Gary greeted us warmly, even stopping to look and smile at me.

In my few weeks of knowing him, Gary had hardly spared me a look, let alone given me a smile. The gesture was eerie, and it immediately set me on edge.

“Hey, Gary,” Hendrix said with a nod. The rest of the guys also voiced some sort of hello, but none of them were that enthusiastic.

Clearly at least some of my men had good taste because they could tell that Gary was not the best.

“This here is Ellie. She’s the doula you requested, Hendrix,” he declared happily, gesturing to the perky blonde, who was beaming at us.

“Doula?” I turned to Hendrix with a questioning look. No one had spoken to me about a doula.

“I thought it would be good to have someone who knew a little more about pregnancy on tour with us,” Hendrix explained. “Just in case you had any questions or concerns. You mentioned a while ago that it would be nice to have someone around, since you couldn’t consistently get to your appointments.”

His face was open and honest as he spoke, and I believed every word he said. That didn’t mean I liked the fact that the doula was a tiny, perfect, blonde woman.

I’d been coping pretty well with my changing body, but standing next to her had insecurities I didn’t even know I’d had rearing their heads. None of the guys looked at her with any visible desire, but my brain was quietly screaming about how new things were with them, how fragile fresh relationships could be, and now doula Barbie was prancing around with her too-white smile and batting eyelashes.

“Oh…okay.” His intentions were good, after all. I couldn’t fault him for that. My emotions were just somewhat…aggressive. Omegas’ instincts could already be a little territorial, but adding in the pregnancy and only having a bond with one of my alphas meant they were going to be supercharged. Why couldn’t the doula be a kindly eighty-year-old grandmother instead of a preppy coed?

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Meadow.” Ellie gave me a beaming smile, but it felt oddly fake.

Breathe. I had to be fucking chill. Hendrix was trying to help me have a safer pregnancy, and I couldn’t get mad about that. I could test out Ellie for a while, and if we didn’t vibe after I’d adjusted to her presence, then I would ask for someone new.

“How far along are you? I was told you’re only five months along, but looking at you, you look closer to full term!” Ellie laughed as she spoke, like she was telling the funniest joke in the world.

Fuck you, Ellie.

“Where will Ellie be staying?” I asked through gritted teeth. Despite being on the other side of the bus to her, her scent was potent. It was hard to nail down, but it was overly sweet, like those perfumes some betas wore in an attempt to smell like an omega.

“On another one of the tour buses, I assume.” Beckett’s response was quick.

“Well, wait a second,” Gary said. “She could always stay on here in one of the bunks. The couch converts to a bed too. It would be useful to have someone with her knowledge so close by as Meadow gets further along.”

I was about to open my mouth and say a vehementfuck no, but Arlo beat me to it.

“Gary, we’re a newly bonded pack. Do you really think we want anyone who’s not a pack member on this bus?” Arlo crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at their manager.

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