Page 55 of Pack’s Pledge

But we’d had too much–way too much–to drink.

And besides. This wasn’t about me. It was about them: Beau, and Conall, and her. Fixing it. And I could. I knew how to fix this. I could fix this. I could make us all—Beau, and Britt, and Conall, and me,me, Adrian—I could make us all happy.

Fuck, I was drunk.

“Not like this,” I said. “Not tonight,” and she smiled.

“There’d be no chance of you knotting me tonight, at least,” she said, then blushed, covering her face with her hands. I peeled them away just to see the sweet embarrassment on her face.

“There’s no chance of me even getting it up,” I said, though that was a lie. My cock had hardened as she’d stroked my calf under the blanket absentmindedly, my body urging her hand higher even as my brain reminded me, hazily, that it was a bad idea. A terrible one. “No, baby,” I said, and she didn’t look sad. “Not tonight. Not like this, right?”

“Not like this,” she said, smiling softly. She yawned, her nose scrunching up cutely. She was so fuckingcute.

“One more drink?” I asked.

She nodded, and topped up our glasses. “One more drink.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

Britt

My neck hurt,and my back. My throat was dry and rough, and I was uncomfortably sweaty.

Beau’s heat,my bleary mind pieced together, but no–the blanket I was under was rough and scratchy and smelled like wet sheep.

The cabin,I remembered.

Whiskey.

I tried to wet my mouth, but my tongue felt fuzzy.

“Mmm,” a rumbling sound, close to pounding head, a strong arm pulling me closer, skin against skin. Something was poking my ass–too big to be Beau. I arched into the feeling, grinding back into the hard length, and got another sigh in response.

Adrian.

Adrian.

“Oh, fuck,” I said, sitting up abruptly, landing with a thud on a worn rag rug over pine planks. “Fuck,” I cursed again. Now my ass hurt, as well as my neck and my back, and my head was swimming.

The distinctive sound of an empty bottle hitting a floor without breaking made my head ring.

I’d fallen off the couch. Two empty glasses were eye-level with me on the coffee table. Everything smelled like whiskey.

I was still wearing my clothes.

“Fuck,” Adrian said, groaning. “It’s so bright.”

“We left the blinds open,” I said. “Good thing we didn’t… do anything.” There was a long pause. “Right?”

He pried his eyes open, looking right at me. “Of course not. I’m a gentleman.” They slipped closed again, and he lay back on the couch. “But if we did, justFYI, there aren’t any neighbors for miles. You can keep the blinds open all you like, and out here, no one can hear you screa–”

I mustered all my strength to swing the throw pillow at him. He caught it, and used his body weight to pull me on top of him.

For a second, I’d forgotten he was an alpha. My heartbeat sped up, my hangover forgotten for a moment. All I could see were his dark eyes, the desire written across his face.

“Britt,” he said, a large hand on each of my clothed thighs. His voice was husky, and not from last night’s alcohol. “Just because we didn’t do anything last night, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

I thought of his stiff cock against my ass this morning and my breath caught. I wanted him, I had since the night we’d met, but…

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