Page 169 of Saddle and Scent
“Break,” I gasp, head spinning. “Can’t… can’t even feel my legs.”
“Perfect,” Beckett says, setting the pie aside and climbing onto the bed next to me, cowboy hat still on. “Time for hydration, then.”
I watch him pour a glass of water, but instead of handing it to me, he takes a sip, then leans in and kisses me, mouth-to-mouth, the water slipping between our lips in a way that is so hot and so stupidly tender that I almost die on the spot. I swallow, gasping, and Beckett laughs, low and pleased.
“Coulda just handed me the glass,” I protest, but he ignores me, stroking my hair and kissing me again, this time just because he wants to.
Wes’s knot is finally starting to soften, and I can feel him flexing behind me, trying to decide if he wants to pull out now or wait until he’s fully deflated.
“You’re not gonna let him one-up you, are you, Beckett?” Wes says, shifting his hips.
Beckett gives me another kiss, then turns to Wes with a lazy grin. “Just letting you tire her out so she’s extra sweet for me.”
Wes snorts.
“She’s always sweet. Just don’t let her fool you—she bites.”
“Only if asked nicely,” Beckett says, and then he’s feeding me another bite of pie, his hand gentle on my jaw, his eyes soft and a little bit wild.
Callum finally steps out of the shadows, the only one still fully clothed, arms crossed and jaw set in that classic “I am above this nonsense” pose.
But there’s a hint of a smile on his lips, and when he meets my gaze, it’s pure heat.
“Ready to tag in, big guy?” Wes taunts, but Callum just shrugs.
“Only if she asks for me,” he says, voice low and a little rough. “I’m not here to steal anyone’s thunder.”
I laugh, delirious and exhausted, and reach out a hand for him. He takes it, squeezing my fingers with surprising gentleness, and then sits on the edge of the bed, one hand brushing over my bare shoulder like he’s checking for injuries.
“You okay, Bell?” he asks, and I nod, too happy to care about the tears leaking out of my eyes.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m more than okay.”
Wes finally slips free, leaving me empty and aching in the best possible way. He kisses my cheek, then collapses next to me on the bed, all lazy limbs and sated pride.
Beckett pulls me into his lap, cradling me like I’m made of glass, and I let myself melt into him, pie and all. The den smellslike sex and sugar, and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel out of place. I feel perfect.
The three of them settle around me—Wes sprawled on my left, Callum steady at my right, Beckett pressed to my back, solid and warm. For a while, we just breathe together, letting the world outside fade to nothing.
Eventually, I manage to string together a sentence. “If you guys ever leave, I’m burning the town down.”
Wes snorts, voice sleepy.
“That’s my girl.”
Callum just squeezes my hand tighter, and Beckett nuzzles my neck, his beard scratchy and sweet.
I don’t know what the future holds. Maybe the world will try to tear us apart again. Maybe there’ll be more fights, more storms, more assholes with too much money and not enough sense. But right now, in this bed, with these three, I know exactly where I belong.
I belong here. I always have.
And I’m never letting go.
If you’ve never done back-to-backheats with three Alphas and a miniature pie, I recommend trying it at least once.
There’s a certain point where everything stops making sense and you just exist—nothing but sensation, taste, and the lingering throb of someone else’s pulse buried inside you.
That’s where I am when Wes finally lets go. There’s a pop, wet and obscene, as his knot deflates and slips out.
