Page 105 of Heat Clinic

I pull out my phone and start texting.

Emily

I’m tapping out and leaving the venue with Sam. I will owe you a favor if you finish party planning for me so I don’t have to think about any of it again except to show up on time.

Tom

Anything?

Deal.

??

I shiver, knowing that I’ve just given him carte blanche to do who knows what to me. Whatever it is he wants, I’m fairly certain I’ll enjoy it. He sends me an emoji of a grinning devil.

“Better?” Sam asks.

“All good now.” My chest no longer feels pinched, and now I can breathe.

He tugs me to the curb and hails us a taxi, and we head home. Bobbie smiles at us and holds the door, and I murmur our thanks. The elevator carries us up, and when we’re inside I shuck out of my coat and boots, toss my purse onto its hook, and collapse face first onto the sofa. Sam sits on the coffee table and rubs my back, petting me. He digs his thumbs into the knot in my shoulders, and I groan.

“It can’t really be that bad.” He laughs at me.

Sitting up, I glare at him. “You wanna do it?”

He looks away.

“I didn’t think so. Why is this my job?”

“Because omegas usually go nuts over this kind of stuff?”

All I can hear is my mother’s nagging voice in my head telling me I’ve done everything wrong, then acting confused when I get mad at her for yelling at me. “That’s a stereotype.” I flop back down and shove my face into the sofa and wiggle my shoulders, and he goes back to rubbing, his thumbs digging into exactly the right spot.

“I guess you don’t want to hear that your dress came back from getting altered and steamed. It’s hanging upstairs in your closet.”

I gasp and wiggle out from under Sam’s hands and run up the stairs. He follows behind me, laughing under his breath. The dress is the only part of this whole thing I’ve enjoyed. Trying dozens of them on and standing up on that pedestal in front of the bank of mirrors in the dress shop made me feel like a princess, and I can’t wait to feel like that again when I wear it while Marcus, Tom, and Sam introduce me to their family and friends. I drag the zipper down and run a hand over the delicate fabric. The beaded lace flowers hang heavy on the layers upon layers of sheer tulle. Seeing it again makes me begrudge the event planning a little less.

The front door slams shut, and I yelp, carefully shoving the dress’s fluff back in its bag and zipping it shut.

“I’m home,” Marcus calls up. His keys clink as he sets them down in the key bowl by the door.

“Coming!” I call down. We both head downstairs and take turns kissing him. “You’re home early.”

Marcus arches one brown and checks his watch. “So are you. I thought you’d be at the venue all day. My last appointment was canceled. I can finish everything else from home.”

“Nope,” I say, avoiding that conversation. “Are you hungry? I have soup in the crock pot.”

He loosens his tie and bends down. “Starving.” He kisses me slower, deeper. “But not for food.” He nips my lower lip between his teeth, and he cups my ass, tugging me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and let him lift me, squeezing my legs around his hips.

“You’re incorrigible,” I say, giggling.

“You like it.” His fingers tighten against my butt as he carries me up the stairs.

I do. He’s warm and happy and full of lust, and I feel all of it through the bond. It makes me ache between my legs when he thinks like that.

“Are you joining us, Sam?”

Sam hurries after us, and we fall into the nest together, and when Tom gets home, we pull him in, too.

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