Page 42 of Pack Obsession

"If I have to suffer through art therapy, we better be doing nudes," Nash answers.

They all stare at me.

I nearly choke on my water, then set the glass on the table. "Keep dreaming."

"Dreams are free," Axel says cheerfully. "Speaking of which, Logan’s been pretty quiet about this morning’s training session..."

Logan’s gaze meets mine, heat flickering in their depths. My cheeks flush as Nash and Axel exchange knowing looks.

"Nothing to tell," Logan admits smoothly.

They’re quite a sight—three dangerous men behind easels, sleeves rolled up, weapons replaced with paintbrushes. Axel appears the most natural, of course, with yellow paint already smudged on his black t-shirt. His movements are sure, completely in his element. Nash keeps glaring at his canvas like he’s interrogating it, while Logan... Logan stands relaxed, but his eyes keep finding mine with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

"What pose will you grace us with?" Axel asks, breaking my Logan-induced trance. "Something classical? Modern? Provocative?"

"Something simple," I say, shifting in the chair. "Maybe just sitting here, legs crossed, staring out the window? You know, thoughtful but not too challenging for the beginners."

"Boring," Nash mutters, but there’s a glint in his eyes. "But I can work with it. I have... ideas."

"Your ideas worry me," I tell him.

"They should."

I settle into position, trying to clear my mind, but it keeps circling back to this morning—Logan’s lips on mine, his hands on my skin, the way he growled when... Stop it. Think about something else, like how your ass is already going numb. Or how that cheeseboard is calling your name, but you can’t move.

"Stop fidgeting," Nash commands.

"I’m not!"

"You are."

My cheeks burn. When I dare to glance at the men, only Logan is staring at me, his gaze dark with something that has me burning up.

"How long is this torture session?" I ask to distract myself.

"We’re keeping it simple today," Axel answers, his brush moving confidently across the canvas. "No backgrounds. Just... capturing the essence."

"My essence would like some of that brie," I mutter.

"Patience," Nash says amusingly. "Good things come to those who wait."

"Is that the retriever’s motto?" I ask.

"Nah, that’s ‘shoot first, ask questions later.’" Axel grins. "Or is it ‘leave no evidence’?"

"Pretty sure it’s ‘don’t get caught,’" Logan adds.

"You’re all hilarious," I tell them. "Real comedians. Ever think about quitting your day job?"

"And miss out on all the fun?" Nash raises an eyebrow. "Never."

Time stretches like taffy. My mind wanders to darker places—my friends from the bus, scattered who knows where. Are they safe? Has Julian found them? And Kai... I need to reach my brother. The worry gnaws at my gut.

To distract myself from the gnawing fear, my traitorous mind slips to Logan’s lips, hot and demanding. The way I didn’t let him kiss me, but kissed him first with everything I had. My fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer when I should have pushed him away. And God, his scent... all three of them smell like sin. And I hate that Logan was right… my heat is simmering below the surface. I feel it constantly there. Every small thing has me aroused. I mean, I kissed Logan first in the woods because I couldn’t stand the ache anymore.

I’m getting too comfortable here, letting my guard down around these men. I can’t stay. But my body isn’t getting the message, responding to their presence like it’s found its pack. Like it’s found home.

Finally, after what seems like years but must be an hour, they begin examining each other's canvases while I remain their focal point. Their gazes burn across my skin as they study their interpretations of me, each glance between canvas and subject sending shivers down my spine. My breath catches as three sets of eyes trace over me, measuring, comparing, creating. The air grows thick with their concentrated focus, and I fight to keep still under the weight of their attention.

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