Page 92 of Perfect Alpha

God, my friends are insufferable horn dogs, and I don’t know why I keep them around. They have Victory laughing, though, so maybe sneaking some fun in between sorrow isn’t such a terrible idea.

“You guys go ahead,” Victory encourages. “I’m going to clean up your mess and then head to bed.”

We all groan in unison. “Too much sausage,” Bobby complains. “Come with us. It’s required.”

“There are no dishes to do anyway,” Gavin remarks with a grin. “We didn’t use plates.”

“I can tell,” Victory replies dryly.

“Come on, angel,” I plead. “Come cuddle with me for a while. Please?” The word doesn’t come easily to me, and she knows it.

She turns and reaches to touch my arm before changing her mind and dropping her hand instead. “Okay. I’ll clean up tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll have made an even bigger mess by then.”

With us in her wake, she leads the way to the back deck. The three of us strip down to boxer briefs without hesitation, and this time Victory is the one who groans.

“Jesus, I forgot how they made men in Montana.”

I stare indifferently at my friends. “Bobby’s getting a spare tire, and Gavin consistently forgets leg day is a thing.”

“Right,” Gavin replies. “Look at your love handles, Cade. You should ease off the cake.”

Victory laughs. “You’re all perfect. It’s too bad you guys don’t live in New York, because I have friends who would fight over you two,” Victory informs the twins, who didn’t need anyone to further inflate their egos.

“What about me?” I grumble, nuzzling her neck.

“You’re not up for grabs,” Victory tells me, and my heart swells.

Maybe she isn’t mad at me anymore, and we can finally have a rational conversation about the future because,damn, I need her in my life again. I won’t let her get away this time.

We climb into the hot tub and pretend to avert our eyes from Victory while she shimmies out of her jeans and fitted sweater, revealing a lacey red bra and matching thong.

Fuck, her body is incredible, and I can’t take my eyes off the dip in her lower back. She walks toward the hot tub, and the swell of her perfect ass makes me grit my teeth because I want to take her right here.

The familiar lines of her body have me biting back a groan, and part of me wishes my friends were not experiencing my personal view. But another, more juvenile part of my brain is happy to show my girl off.

She either doesn’t notice the rapt male attention or pretends not to, and I’m beyond happy when she settles onto my lap, resting her head on my shoulder. The jets on my sore back are incredible, and the curves of Victory on my front are even better.

Gavin asks Victory about her hottest friend in New York City. She describes a blond bombshell, her animated gestures wiggling just right on my cock.

Thinking about Bobby’s football stats and the grossest days I’ve ever had at work don’t fight off a very inappropriate erection.

It’s a lost cause.

She’s too fucking sexy, and there’s no way she isn’t noticing the sudden appearance of my dick.

I loop my arms around her waist, resting my hands on her flat stomach. She sets her hand on mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” I mutter against her neck. “And I’m sorry.” She squeezes my hand again and makes no move to pull her body away from mine.

“This isn’t the friend I met,” Bobby muses thoughtfully. “What was her name again?”

I’m so in tune with Victory that I know she’s rolling her eyes even though her back is to me.

“You fucked her, Bobby,” Victory says. “Why don’t you tell me what her name is?”

“Uh…”

“Even I know the name of every girl I’ve fucked,” Gavin scolds.

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