Page 77 of Wicked Truths

Oakley shakes against me as my cock kicks. I hold her to me with a punishing grip and fight the desperate urge to rut.

“I’m apparently a very giving lover,” Liam says, finally pulling his hand from between me and Oakley. “I’ve given you way more orgasms than you’ve given me.” He laughs, kissing her shoulder as she rolls her hips. “I’m only joking. I love hearing you scream.”

“I’m pretty sure you just fucked my world up.” I push up on my forearm to nuzzle my cheek to hers. “Normally the urge to murder him for inviting himself into our first time together would be strong.”

“It’s okay, you can admit pack life isn’t so bad.” Liam chuckles. “I can’t wait to discover all the ways we can shove our cocks into our darling omega.”

Oakley sits straight up and her shoulder slams into Liam’s chin. “Oh shit, sorry.”

Liam just laughs. “It’s fine.”

“I need to nest.” She glances around. “Someone point me in that direction.”

She’s so serious. My head falls back against the bed as I laugh. She wiggles off my crown, suddenly an omega on a mission.

“Who knew America would be so goddamn enjoyable?” Liam snorts, lifting her with his forearms.

I’m still hard and desperate for more than just the tip, but Oakley glances around and bolts for the bathroom. I assume she’s going to clean up, but she comes out in the shirt I was wearing before our bath. My heart grows about five sizes as she cocks a hip and glances between us.

“Would someone like to point me in the direction of the nest?” she asks with a huff.

“I’ve got you, sweetness.” Liam walks over, tossing an arm around her.

I sigh as they head off. My hand flies to rub over my face. I’m fucking terrible at sharing. I want to cuddle up to her in the nest and snarl at everyone else to stay the fuck back.

Which is exactly how not to be successful in pack life.

It’s not like I don’t realize why our society drifted toward pack life. One omega can easily meet the needs of five or six alphas, and without an omega we tend to drift toward going feral. I huff, maybe I’m heading that way faster than I’d like to admit. Soaking up an omega’s pheromones is supposed to help, but the only true cure for the condition is bonding, which I’ll never do if I can’t share properly.

I push myself out of bed and head to get dressed. I might as well check on Marcus and Sullivan.

ChapterTwenty-Five

Liam

Oakley is an adorable mess. Her strawberry blonde hair is wild around her face as she digs through Marcus’s suitcase, sniffing everything and tossing it aside when it’s not ripe enough.

“They must have sent our laundry out right before we came here.” She frowns, yanking out a pair of sweatpants and pulling them to her nose. “Why would they do that?”

“They do our laundry daily when we’re in a hotel,” I remind her.

“And the bus is an hour away. I can’t even get access to your pillows.” She hits her butt next to the suitcases and starts digging in my bag. “Being an omega is ridiculous. I actually feel like I might cry all because I can’t find any clothes that smell like you guys.”

“It’s kind of strange, but it does make me feel like a king,” I admit, running my hand down her back.

Whoever brought up our things left our bags in one of the guest rooms right next to the nest. I’m guessing they didn’t know what belonged to who, so they piled it up in the room closest to where they thought we’d be spending most of our time.

Oakley yanks out the hoodie I wear regularly and sniffs all over it. She glances back, pulling it over her head. The look on her face has me chuckling. It seems like she’s afraid I might try to pry it off of her.

“How about we grab a couple of those outfits you’ve haphazardly discarded and bring them out to the guys?” I suggest, squatting at her side. “They can work on making sure they smell right while you and I set up the nest.”

“Okay,” she grumbles.

“I don’t have the first clue who any of that belongs to.” I nod toward the mess of clothes. “Collect something from each of them.”

Oakley hits her hands and knees, digging through and grabbing out clothes for each of the guys. Hawk’s giant T-shirt, covered by my hoodie, slides up, giving me a tantalizing view of her bare ass and a little peek of her pussy. My head falls back as I curse under my breath.

Oakley is pure goddamn trouble, and I’m absolutely going to make her mine.

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