by Jayce Carter
Maybe this game is worth playing.
Chapter Fifteen
Marshall carried a box of pastries in one hand, a large container of coffee in the other. After waking at five in the morning to check in with colleagues and going into town to collect the files Sam had sent, he’d thought sugar and caffeine would go over well at the cabin.
Kieran had woken when Marshall had left, resetting the security systems. Kane and Tiffany still slept, but it didn’t surprise him. Neither seemed like morning people.
At just past eight, he figured most of the cabin should be awake. They needed to go through Tiffany’s belongings and see if they held some clue as to who was after her.
The entire thing had hung on Marshall’s mind all night, making sleep difficult. She had Kieran and Kane there, so what did he expect to do? Marshall wasn’t a fighter—he wasn’t like the other alphas in the house. He’d spent his life learning how to heal, and what use was that to her?
What am I even doing here?
Well, that answer was obvious. Marshall was there because he couldn’t not be there, because the moment he’d realized the danger she was in, he’d known he had to be by her side. That instinct he hated, the one he’d spent his life trying to downplay, to control, had refused to be ignored for this.
Though, he had proven himself useful in one area. He was less stubborn than the others, and his steady disposition gave some stability to the chaotic grouping. He was able to talk them down, to get them to listen.
Inside the cabin, he found Kieran, a towel over the dining table and a rifle spread out over it. The sight had Marshall stopping short.
Kieran cocked an eyebrow up before returning his attention to his work cleaning the weapon. “Not a fan of guns?”
“I’ve spent my life patching people up from what those things do.”
“I can teach you to shoot.”
“I can teach you to sew up the people you shoot.”
Kieran huffed a soft laugh. “It wouldn’t do any good. I don’t shoot many people, but the ones I do? Some stitching wouldn’t save them.”
Marshall set the food and coffee on the kitchen counter, seeing as the table was occupied. “Do you think Tiffany should see that?”
“She’s tougher than you think. Besides, maybe it would do her some good to get a clear idea of what she’s up against.”
“She’s been targeted at least three times we know of. I think she is aware of the danger.”
“She can speak for herself.” Tiffany came out from the hallway, her wet hair braided back and the strong scent of lavender and lemon following her.
Kieran wrinkled his nose. “Why are you using that? I think we’re past you needing to hide what you are.”
She popped open the lid to the box of pastries. “It’s all Alison left. Why? Not a fan of lavender?”
“No. Lavender and lemon cover scents, strong enough to dilute most alpha and omega pheromones. It makes me feel as though someone is covering my eyes.”
“Well, we can pick up other shampoo in town if you want. Until then? This is all I’ve got.”
Kieran offered a short, half-hearted growl before opening the case his sniper rifle had come in. “We need to go through the files Sam sent. He’s hoping Tiffany can pick out someone she’s seen. We can’t hide forever, so we need to find out what they want.”
Kane came out, stealing the muffin Tiffany had taken from her hand. “Sounds good to me.”
“No one asked your opinion.” Kieran snapped the rifle case shut after packing the weapon away.
“No one had to.”
“Knock it off, you two. I can’t take your bickering. If either of don’t want to be here, leave.” Tiffany left the muffin with Kane, grabbing a coffee mug from the shelf instead.
A glare passed between Kieran and Kane, as though they could settle the fight silently and not piss off the omega in the room.
When she turned back toward them with the cup, both alphas jerked their gazes down like children caught doing wrong.
The entire situation was enough for Marshall to laugh. Figures it only takes one feisty omega to send two alphas like that running.
Tiffany tossed a grin Marshall’s way, then poured herself a cup of coffee. She added creamer and sipped the steaming liquid. Her eyelids drifted shut as she drew tendrils of steam into her nose. Kieran took a step toward the door before gesturing at Kane. “Come on. If you refuse to leave, you can at least be helpful by getting the rest of the files.”
Kane popped the rest of the muffin into his mouth, then brushed the crumbs from his hands. “What, you mean you ain’t enjoying my charm and boyish good looks?”
Marshall shook his head as the two walked out. Childish bickering was better than another fist fight.
“Are they ever going to stop that?” Tiffany toyed with the tie at the bottom of her braid.
“Probably not.” At her glare, he only smiled. “Boys will be boys, Tiffany. Even if they work this out, even if they decide not to kill one another, I suspect they’ll always try to one up one another.”
“Men never stop dick measuring?”
“Something like that.” He grasped the end of her braid and tugged softly on it. “You look like you didn’t get enough sleep.”
A blush covered her cheeks. “The lavender smell doesn’t bother you?”
He used his grip on her braid to tug her closer, until the front of her body melded to him. “No. Omegas use it in my line of work so often it doesn’t affect me. I can smell beneath it.” He leaned closer, drawing a deep breath. Sure enough, under the oils that had been in the shampoo, under the sharp lemon and the heavy lavender, he could taste the omega beneath. For such a brash spirit, her scent was soft, sweet.
“How do I smell?”
He pulled his lips into a smile at the breathless way she asked. “Like temptation.” As he spoke, his lips brushed hers, a gentle teasing that riled his other side.
For her part, Tiffany closed the distance. She tilted her head to take the kiss he hinted at, sliding her lips against his, the taste of vanilla from her coffee on her breath.
Marshall let himself have the kiss. He grasped the back of her neck to further tilt her head, and when her lips parted, he delved inside.
His cock pressed against her flat stomach, a roll of his hips grinding him against her. He considered the height of the counter behind her. He could move the box out of the way and set her there. A quick shifting of her clothing and he’d have access.
He’d have a willing omega cunt wrapped tightly around his knot, finally. That ache inside him would ease.
Can I keep my alpha side under control then? What if I can’t?
Marshall broke the kiss, chilled by the thought. His insistent cock didn’t care, but he did. He tilted his head, forehead to hers to keep his lips from hers. “We don’t have much privacy.”
“So?” She darted her tongue out to swipe across his bottom lip. “I don’t care.”
“You will when Kane and Kieran get back. They’re already at each other’s throats. I don’t think we need the complication of them finding me inside you.”
Her heavy sigh warmed his lips. “Are you always the responsible one?”
Marshall ran his fingers from her neck and down her chest, tracing her sternum between her breasts. “Well, I can’t exactly leave that to you, can I?”
She hit her palms against his chest in a playful shove before she muttered, “Smart-ass.”
She pulled away, that sway in her step as she collected her cup of coffee and headed toward the living room. That omega tested every limit he had, pushed at all the lines he’d so carefully drawn for himself.
He had to be careful.
Chapter Sixteen
Marshall sat on the couch, the television playing despite him not watching it. Instead, he worked on his laptop.
He wasn’t needed for the cases. For each file he opened, he found the doctor who filled in had dealt with the issues as he would have. Each pati
ent appeared to be doing well, to be healing as well as he would have expected.
Still, working made him relax. He understood work, understood his place. When he was elbow-deep in cases, when he helped omegas, when he saved lives, he knew he had a place. The world made sense.
That feeling fled when he was faced with Tiffany, with her sadness. They’d gone through the boxes of files, through the pages of pictures and names and places, but none of it had sparked anything in her. She didn’t recognize anyone, had never been to any of the places mentioned, knew nothing. It meant that after their time in the cabin, after Sam’s work, they seemed no closer to an answer about who was after her. The stress hung on her, and he didn’t know how to help.
“I didn’t expect this to be your sort of show,” came the voice he’d been thinking about.
Marshall lifted his gaze to the TV, which had switched to some dating show when he hadn’t been paying attention. A woman stood there with two men behind her. They argued over which one she should pick.
He huffed a soft laugh. “What? Didn’t see me as a trash TV sort of man?”
She sat on the couch beside him, all but collapsing. Some of the sadness had disappeared from her features, leaving that spark he knew already. “Not really. You seem like a documentaries sort of man.”
“You think me that dull?” He leveled a grin at her, especially at how wrong she was. He used to watch documentaries, mostly because he’d felt he needed to. He’d thought watching complicated documentaries somehow proved he was smarter, better. Only, as his work had become more difficult, he’d realized that there was nothing better than relaxing, letting his mind shut off while watching pointless action flicks with far more car chases and explosions than was necessary.
“I don’t think you’re dull,” she admitted, twisting toward him.
It wasn’t the words he heard, though. Instead, it was the way she said them. It was the lust in them, the lust he didn’t think she even knew was there.
It hung in the air, the delicious scent that blossomed in the room. Heady and deep and primitive.
He drew it in, let it soak into him. His body responded as if she controlled it, as if the only thing that mattered was satisfying her need. His cock hardened, the base aching with a desire to knot her, to finally feel blood fill the thick area at the root of his dick, to lock inside an omega and feel her snug pussy pull tight around him.
“Most people would,” he said, his voice deep and rough with want. “Most people would think I was boring. Far too boring for a girl who likes to knee men in the balls and gets into as much trouble as you do.”
Her smile widened, that flash of trouble and life he so enjoyed. She leaned in closer, pressing her hand to his shoulder. “I think you’re way more fun than you want to admit,” she said.
His eyebrow lifted. “You think so?”
She took his laptop, closed it, and set it on the table. “Yep. I think you just need some motivation.”
“What sort of motivation?”
She rose and peeled off her shirt. He saw the fluid shift over her body, the way one side of her ribcage arched up while the other lowered, the line of her body elongating. She wore no bra, so her breasts came into view, the weight and movement causing them to sway, the nipples pebbling beneath the chill and his gaze.
As quickly, she slid her thumbs into the waist of her sweats and slipped them down her legs. She dropped the cloth to the ground, so it pooled around her ankles, leaving her nude.
As she stood there, hiding nothing, on display, he was humbled.
He would never be able to deserve that girl.
Tiffany slid into Marshall’s lap, his hips forcing her thighs to spread wide. It was easy to think of him as safe, as the easygoing one, as the healer. It made her forget he was an alpha, that he carried the bulk common to their designation, larger than most betas but muscles not so defined.
However, when against him like she was, she couldn’t forget it. The wide set of his shoulders, the natural size of his body, it all tempted her. He didn’t carry the muscle of the others, but that didn’t mean he was weak or small.
He set his hands on her bare hips, his fingers against her skin. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
She angled her hips so she ground against his lap, against his hard-on that offered a delicious friction for her. “I’m not playing.”
A laugh from behind them had her turning to find Kane taking a seat. He let his knees fall wide, jeans showing off his impressive erection. “Don’t mind me, doll. Just taking in the show.”
Marshall teased his fingers up her side. “Do you mind if he stays?”
Tiffany tilted her head back, surrendering.
A soft bite to her pulse reprimanded her silence. “You need to tell me. Can he stay? If not, we’ll go somewhere more private. It’s up to you.”
The weight of Kane’s dark eyes, the low growl he released with every breath, all gave her an answer. He sat there like some silent guardian, his tattoos and his lean frame, and his menace all more attractive than any of them should have been.
“Stay,” she whispered.
“Good fucking answer.” Kane grunted softly and a rustle of fabric said he’d undone his pants. Even without looking, Tiffany could picture him wrapping his large palm around his dick.
Marshall dragged his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. His touch was strong but restrained, as always. He pressed the tips of his fingers into the weight of her breasts with a tight grope. Her pebbled nipples stuck out like offerings to him, ones he worshiped by sliding his thumbs against them.
Tiffany moaned at his stroke, at the way her nipples gave beneath his touch. She pulled her shoulders back to stick her chest out, to beg for more. The chill of the room didn’t matter against the heat of his hands or the heat the burned inside him.
Another growl filled the room, lower and more dangerous. Kieran.
Marshall caught her chin to keep her gaze on him, her attention locked on him. “It’s still your choice. Do you want to stop?” His fingers dug into her chin where he gripped her, but he continued the touches to her breast. He closed his fingers around her nipple to tweak it, pulling until she gasped.
The scent of all three males, their heavy gazes and deep growls filling the room and her mind made her cunt clench around nothing, made her want all of them. She needed them to come forward, to feel Kieran’s rough hands, to feel Kane’s talented tongue. The temptations of them all, the need to feel each of them against her made her feverish with want.
Tiffany undid Marshall’s pants, yanking at them with hard pulls, desperate to feel him.
Marshall used his grip on her chin to guide her forward, to take a kiss so deep and passionate she nearly lost herself in it. Only the need for his cock kept her hands moving, had her reaching into his boxers to grasp his hard length.
He blew a warm breath past her lips, masculine and with the same restrained need he always wore, that distance, that holding back.
Still, Tiffany danced her fingers over his dick, tracing around the thick head, the slit at the top, down to his heavy balls. At the base of his cock, she could feel the area where his knot would swell, already thickened with need. To think he’d never had an omega before, that he’d never felt the sensation of locking inside a female, something that had to be as bone-deep as her own heat.
“Are you going to let me have you?” Despite it being a question, the words left his lips like a demand. He lifted his hips, pushing his shaft against her hand.
Tiffany answered by rising on her knees and positioning him against her pussy.
Kane’s laugh made her clench. “Fuck, doll, you got any idea how well he’s gonna stretch you? You can’t tell from your angle, I bet, but those lips of yours are gonna spread wide when he fucks you.” The filth he said, the way he said it without the barest hint of shame, had her dripping with need.
Marshall grasped her hip as she lowered herself. His blunt head caught her entrance, her body fig
hting his thickness.
He wasn’t as long as Kieran, but he was thicker, so thick her pussy resisted his demand for entry.
“You can do it, girl.” Kieran’s words came out less like reassurance and more like a command. Not only could she, but she would.
Marshall set his other hand on her waist and twisted her. The quick movement drew a startled gasp as she tried to reorient.
It left her still in his lap, but now with her back to Marshall’s chest and her front toward the room. She faced Kane and Kieran, who sat in the large armchairs across from the couch.
Both had their own pants undone and their dicks out, their hungry gazes locked on her.
Marshall moved one of his hands from her hip and slid it up her body, to her breast. He again captured a nipple between tight fingers. “Lower yourself onto me,” he growled out.
The lust in the eyes of the alphas had her reaching forward to finger her clit, the first brush so strong she cried out. Her clit throbbed, and even as she rubbed it, it wasn’t enough.
She wanted to be filled. She wanted his thick cock to take her, wanted to feel how his wide his knot would grow inside her. Hell, she wanted to struggle against that fullness, to know she couldn’t do anything but accept it, but give in to it.
He put pressure on her hip, a reminder of her task. Right.
Tiffany drew in one deep breath before letting her weight settle, letting it press her against him harder. The pressure grew until her body gave in, until the thick head of his cock slipped past her the tight lips of her cunt.
The sounds that came from Marshall and Tiffany competed. Tiffany’s were throaty and wanton, whereas Marshall’s was aggression—barely leashed and snarling against her ear.
She wanted that grip he had on it to snap. She wanted to feel him not holding back, to not have him keeping some of himself away.
“You’re so tight,” he whispered to her, low enough it sounded like a filthy secret between them, a funny thing since the other alphas saw everything. “Your body is squeezing me, and I’m only an inch inside.”