Page 72 of Knot Just for Show

Just as shocked as the rest of us, Ash marvels at his score—a perfect 10.

“That settles it, your first date will be with Ash, your second with Teddy, third Mavren, fourth Ronan, and fifth—Lysander. You’ll enjoy your first dates before the first social of your tropical getaway—starting with Ash and Ursula’s date tonight,” Anna explains, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Enjoy your time together, lovebirds!” she gushes, the camera zooming in on her devilish wink.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ash

Our first night in the villa was unexpectedly mild. Not that I’m complaining. I wasn’t really up to giving anything my all, after hours of travel and the somewhat humiliating, albeit ultimately profitable, ‘game’ we played to decide the order of our individual dates.

By the time Pack Milton and the auxiliary camera crew finished their interview segments and cleared out of our villa it was just about time for dinner.

We enjoyed some of the most luxurious ‘room service’ I’ve ever experienced—including but not limited to all of my stays in Paris, Ibiza, and Berlin. Plates and plates of fish, fruit, vegetables, rice and noodle dishes; everything garnished with edible flowers and served al fresco, with the backdrop of the villa’s incredible view.

The six of us indulged in a little jacuzzi together (swimsuits on, regrettably) after dessert and coffee—before all of us slunk into pajamas and got ready to bed down in the nesting room.

All of the boys agreed to draw straws for sleeping positions the first night while Ursula was brushing her teeth. She didn’t need to see all of us squabbling over who got to sleep closest to her—and us boys didn’t need a reason to start a spat with one another when things were going so swimmingly.

Of course, my stellar luck couldn’t hold out. The alphas, Teddy and Mavren, just so happened to garner the two spaces bracketing Ursula—the rest of the boys and I would be relegated to theouter limits.

Even though I haven’t ever gotten close to ‘biting in’ to a pack, I’ve been involved in my fair share of flings. Sure, some were heat and rut related, but some of them were just ‘funtime fuckies’ on the road—especially during the height of my early career when I was in the crosshairs of being twenty-one years old and drowning in self-identified ‘groupies.’ Over the years, as I’ve aged and moved downward on the food chain of fame, I’ve found myself in all sorts of interesting places.

I ended up bedding down on the far right side, just behind Lysander—who nearly knocked me the fuck out with his scent as soon as he started sleeping. Our little theta Morpheus—prince of dreams.

Ronan and Mavren were the first ones up; Ronan played barista and breakfast cook while Mavren did his morning calisthenics in the sun.

By the time the rest of us rolled out of the nest, there were coffees, fresh fruit, eggs and bacon, baskets of toast—plenty of goodies for a relaxing breakfast before Ursula would have to depart for our date.

Anna and the others had explained the day before, each member of the pack would have an opportunity to have some one-on-one time between our arrival and the first social—where all the different packs are going to get to see each other for the first time since the ‘bubbles.’

They explained that individual dates would not only be special activities tailored to each of the different participants that would take us away from the villa from the day, but each pair would also get some time alone in the villa, while the other members of their pack enjoyed their own excursion—with everyone reuniting for a differently themed cocktail hour and dinner every evening.

To say that I was excited to be the first to get my individual date with Ursula would be a criminal understatement. While I don’t know what the producers have in store for us, I couldn’t be happier that I get some alone time with my omega back at the villa before the other boys are due back.

We were told to wear casual clothes, and to have our bathing suits on hand.

It’s still so early in our courtship that all of us are still acting chivalrous—leaving the room so that Ursula can change, doing our best whenever she’s in a swimsuit not to look at her incredible soft, teardrop shaped breasts, her high, rounded ass…ok, maybe the chivalry is starting to run thin—but I’m doing my best.

The boys all fuss over me, just as bad as any mother hens, as I wait on the front terrace on the other side of the giant wooden door.

Ronan fluffs a bit of my hair, Teddy helps cuff the sleeves of my apparently ‘too large’ Hawaiian shirt, and Mavren and Lysander circle me as they echo Teddy’s sentiments about me not knowing the secrets of menswear that they are apparently so expert in. All of us crane our necks to get a look as the large wooden door swings open—revealing Ursula; looking very va-va-voom in a pair of denim cutoffs over a bright blue mock turtleneck one-piece; a zipper with a circular pull undone as far as the straining plastic teeth will go; Ursula’s prodigious cleavage on full display.

“What—should I zip it up? Is it too much?” She sucks air through her teeth, peeking at us over the top of her oversized geometric sunglasses, a mesh beach bag slung over her shoulder, a white cotton button down tucked into the crook of her arm.

I have to stop myself from physically reaching out to stay her hand when she pouts and hooks a finger through the zipper pull.

“I think it’s just the right amount,” I say instead, lifting my own mirrored aviators to give her what I hope comes off as a frisky wink.

She makes her way down the row, shamelessly needy Lysander and Teddy at the head of the line, eager Ronan, just behind—Mavren, presiding over the three of them, waiting his turn. Sweet kisses for each of them, nothing with groping or tongue.

Finally, she turns to me, last of all. I take Ursula’s hand in mine just as the van pulls into the turnaround.

Our ride turns out to be more of a quick jaunt to another location on the connected resort property that manages the villas Build-A-Pack-Blind has been using since their first season.

We’re escorted to a private portion of the resort’s stretch of pristine, white sand beach—where a luxuriant cabana has been prepared for us. In addition to the standard fare of billowing white canopies, plush daybeds for reclining, and a small bistro table and chairs set with all sorts of refreshments; the resort staff were quick to point out a beautiful acoustic guitar made by a local luthier.

Within moments we were left alone with our omnipresent camera crew.

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