Page 128 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Watching them feels forbidden, illicit, but I can’t tear my eyes away. Each sound they make, each shift of their bodies, sends shockwaves through me. Stone’s massive hands grip Finn’s thighs, holding him against the wall like he weighs nothing. When one of his hands dives beneath the band of Finn’s sweatpants, my breath hitches. I see the moment it closes around Finn’s cock. A low groan rumbles in Finn’s chest, and the sight of Stone’s hand stroking him, the undeniable evidence of their arousal, sends a jolt of desire through me.

My breath comes faster as Stone’s mouth moves down Finn’s throat. The sweet scent of omega arousal mingles with alpha musk,creating a heady perfume. Heat pools between my legs—an insistent, unfamiliar ache that makes me press my thighs even harder together in confusion.

“Please,” Finn gasps as Stone nips at his collarbone. “Stone, please?—”

The desperate need in his voice resonates through me, awakening something hungry. My skin feels too tight, too sensitive. Every brush of fabric against my body sends sparks of awareness shooting through my nerve endings. The moisture gathering between my thighs makes me want to squirm, to seek friction, to?—

Suddenly, Stone goes absolutely still.

Finn’s eyes flutter open, clouded with desire before awareness crashes in. His gaze locks onto me and horror floods his features.

“Hailey,” he breathes, voice cracking. “Oh gods.”

He pushes at Stone’s shoulders, scrambling to break free. Stone lets him go but seems dazed, nostrils flaring as he scents the air.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. For watching? For the way my body is reacting? For interrupting?

But Finn is already backing away, shaking his head. “No, no, I’m the one who—this was—I shouldn’t have—” His voice breaks and he turns, practically running toward the house.

“Finn!” Stone calls after him, starting to follow. “Wait!”

I trail behind them, drawn by some instinct I don’t understand. Their voices drift back to me as they reach the back porch.

“It was a mistake,” Finn is saying, his voice tight with distress. “We shouldn’t have?—”

“How can it be a mistake?” Stone’s deep voice rumbles with frustration. “You’remine. Ours. You always have been.”

“That’s not the point!” Finn whirls to face him, and I can see tears gathering in his eyes. “She’s in preheat, Stone. She’s vulnerable and confused and we were out here just—just perfuming like fucking teenagers!”

“Finn—”

“No, you don’t understand.” Finn runs shaking hands through his hair. “I could smell her. Her slick. Gods, what kind of monster am I? She doesn’t even have—she doesn’t even have basic necessities. No girls’ things, no underwear, nothing! And here I am getting carried away, probably making everything worse for her?—”

“You’re not a monster,” Stone tries to reach for him but Finn steps back.

“Aren’t I?” His laugh is bitter. “I know what preheat feels like, Stone. How overwhelming everything it was as my body prepared for my first full heat. How your body betrays you, wanting things you’re not ready for. And instead of helping her through it, I’m out here putting on a show that’s probably triggering all sorts of?—”

He cuts off as Stone’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring again. I realize with mortification that they can probably smell me—smell the evidence of my arousal.

“Oh gods,” Finn whispers, horror creeping back into his voice. “I can smell her from here. Stone, what have I done?”

The back door opens and closes as Finn disappears inside. Through the window, I can see him pacing, hands still buried in his hair. Stone hesitates on the porch, torn between following and giving space.

“She needs supplies,” Finn’s voice drifts out. “Basic things. Things I should have thought of yesterday instead of being so caught up in—” He breaks off with a sound of frustration. “I ordered stuff, but they’re not delivering them for another week. We need to go to the store.”

“Finn, sweetheart, you’re spiraling?—”

“Don’t say that to me!” The words crack like a whip. “Don’t try to make this okay. It’s not okay. None of this is okay.”

I hover uncertainly by the garden wall, my body still thrumming with unfamiliar sensations. My center feels sensitive, uncomfortable, and shame burns in my chest. This is my fault. I did this—made Finn upset, ruined whatever moment they were sharing.

Through the window, I can see Finn scribbling frantically on anotepad while Stone hovers nearby, shirtless and uncertain. Their voices rise and fall, fragments reaching me:

“—need to call Jax?—”

“—not your fault?—”

“—should have known better?—”

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