Page 131 of Down Knot Out
A shuffling sound comes from the doorway, and Chloe pushes through, her pink hair a tangled mess and Blake’s old T-shirt hanging past her knees.
The sight of her stops my breath. Four distinct bites Mark her throat and shoulders, each one a declaration that she belongs to us, and we to her.
She hovers at the threshold, bare toes curling onthe hardwood. When her pink eyes find mine, a soft blush colors her cheeks, and her uncertainty comes through our bond, mixed with a bone-deep contentment.
“Hi,” she says, throat raspy from overuse.
“Hi.” Another smile tugs at my lips, and I have a suspicion I’ll be wearing that expression all day. “How are you feeling?”
She eases onto a stool at the counter, moving gingerly. “Like I got hit by a very pleasant truck.”
Holden chuckles, flipping a pancake with a practiced flick of his wrist. “That’s about right.”
I push the plate of apple slices toward her. “Eat. Your body needs to recover.”
Her fingers brush mine as she takes a slice, and a spark travels up my arm. The bond between us pulses, stronger for that brief contact.
She pops the apple into her mouth and moans as she chews. “Mmm, that tastes incredible.”
“Everything does right after bonding.” Holden slides a plate with a golden pancake in front of her. “Your senses are heightened.”
Blake appears in the doorway next, hair damp from a shower, tied back in a loose bun. Water droplets cling to his beard, and his tattooed arms flex as he stretches.
He crosses to Chloe in three long strides andbends to nuzzle her cheek, inhaling her scent. “How’s your body, sweetheart?”
Before she can answer, Holden slides a steaming mug toward her. “Coffee first. Then interrogation.”
The pack chuckles as Chloe cradles the mug in both hands, inhaling the aroma. “Thank you.”
Blake drops a kiss on her head before moving to the refrigerator. He retrieves a carton of orange juice, pouring himself a glass.
He gestures to the phone on the counter next to me. “Anything go wrong at the job site while we were away?”
“No work talk before breakfast,” Dominic says from the doorway.
He sets a laundry basket piled high with blankets and clothing from Chloe’s nest onto the floor next to the door. His black hair hangs free of its usual braid, the tips brushing his jawline, and a hint of stubble darkens his jaw. Scratches brand his chest, trailing down toward his navel.
Chloe slides off her stool to go to him. “You should be resting.”
“Says the woman who nearly broke my back yesterday.” Dominic leans down to nuzzle her throat over his Mark. “I feel better than I have in weeks.”
As she melts into his touch, the pack bondvibrates with affection, radiating outward to include us all.
“You’re going to hurt yourself carrying laundry,” she protests.
His rumbling laugh fills the kitchen. “After what we did the last three days, laundry isn’t going to be what breaks me.”
Holden flips another pancake onto the growing stack. “Coffee for you?”
He straightens from our Omega. “Yes, please.”
“No!” Chloe wags her finger at him. “You’re still on a caffeine restriction until the doctor says otherwise.”
That earns her a glare. “You’re lucky I love you.”
She flushes bright pink but points an imperious finger at the stools around the counter. “Go sit down.”
Grumbling, he strides to the one on my other side at the island and steals an apple from the plate.
