by Paige Taylor
Marco takes some very slow, deep breaths, I think he’s trying to calm down before he says anything else. I still have one hand on his leg and just start stroking his thigh up and down, trying to calm him down with my touch. When he calms down, his free hand crosses over to rest on my thigh, the contact sending tingles of arousal shooting through my body and between my legs, my arousal saturates the air setting us both on edge. We spend the last fifteen minutes of the drive just like that, taking the time to draw peace off each other’s touch while trying to ignore the sexual charge surrounding us.
As we pull up in front of my old apartment, I feel the concern coming off my mate in waves. He walks around the front of the car, opens my door, and drapes his arm around my shoulder as we walk towards the dull, brick building. My building is sandwiched between a nondescript-looking building, like my own, and an old, Italian restaurant that makes the best pasta you’ve ever had in your life. I push through the wooden, entrance door that never locks, which makes Marco shake his head, walking straight up the old wooden stairs that creak with the slightest bit of pressure. I continue to guide Marco up the stairs until we reach the third, and final, level. My apartment is one of three on the level and the furthest away from the stairs. I reach into my back jean pocket and grab out my set of keys, slipping it in the lock and pushing the door open. Before I can even lift my freaking shoe off the ground, Mac slides in front of me and enters the apartment before me.
“Please, go into my home, Marco, no, no need to wait for me. It’s not like this is my place, or soon to be ex place or anything,” I say to the space in front of me that was filled with Marco’s tall frame only seconds ago. I didn’t even have time to stare at his arse again.
I walk myself into the room that has been my home for the last ten months, I re-painted all the walls white when I moved in, bought a few new pieces of furniture. I had to buy a new mattress, lounge, and bed, because the state they were in makes me shudder and throw up a little in my mouth. I don’t even want to know what was done on either one of those to get some of those stains. All the rooms now had a cerulean and white theme; white helps chase away the demons I saw in the dark when I first moved, and cerulean because it’s my favourite colour. I walk around the room taking inventory of what I would need; all the big pieces of furniture can go into storage, but my personal items come with me.
“Okay, so I need my lounge pillows, bed pillows, photos, clothing, technology, emergency cash, shoes, my socks, my own car. Hmm. . . . I don’t think I need anything else right now and that should fit in the two cars,” I say, ticking off the items off a finger at a time.
A voice clears behind me, and I spin around. I had completely forgotten that Marco was inside with me, but there he is leaning his shoulder against the wall in his button-up shirt and his suit pants, looking all sexy. Stupid hormones, get under control, you don’t have time to jump him right now.
“Hey there! So, between the two cars we should be able to fit everything in one trip, it’s just a process of getting it all packed up. We can organise for a truck to come move the bigger stuff into storage this week, and then, I’ll be all moved out!” I say with enthusiasm, the more I think about it, the more excited I am to actually be around my mates more and get to know them better.
“That sounds great, sweetheart. I take it you own a motor vehicle other than your bike?” he asks.
“I certainly do, it’s a blue Corolla named Lola.”
“Well then, we’d better load the cars up and get back to the pack, then. The sooner we are away from this building, the better I will feel,” he says, pushing off the wall and walking over to me. His strong legs tighten the material of his pants with every step that he takes, drawing my eye to the large package I know is hiding under the zipper. He wraps me in his arms tightly, his shirt straining across his muscles, while his head rests against the top of mine.
The next hour is spent running up and down stairs, loading each of the cars with everything we can fit in one trip and organising a truck to come pick up the furniture next week. By the end of it, Marco’s sleeves have been rolled up, and I’ve swapped jeans for boy shorts. We’re both sweating and not from a round of hot sex, which, in and of itself, is disappointing. Marco gives me one, long, hot kiss before we get in our cars, and begin the drive back to pack lands.
Driving has always been my thinking time. I turn off the radio and I just let my mind work through the things it needs to. It dawns on me that to the outside world, moving in with men a day after you meet them, was not considered a smart move. For wolf shifters, Mates were part of you, they had a piece of your soul. You recognised them on four levels by sight, smell, touch, and in your soul; those little stars deep inside me, are my Mate’s souls shining bright within me. For shifters, my decision is a fairly normal one; you meet your mate and usually by the end of a week the transition to live together is started, if not completely finished. Some stories talk about insta-love, and that’s probably the closest thing I can come to describing it, but we feel it soul deep the moment we find them.
The transition to be with your mate is an exciting time. For me, though, there’s just that little voice in the back of my mind. A voice that repeats over and over the consequences of being under Pack rule, of being under another Alpha. Logically I know that my Alpha Mates would never hurt me. And, from what I’ve seen of the Packs so far, they are family. I’m just so scared; scared of my past catching up to me, scared to put my mates in danger, scared to lose myself. I haven’t let myself cry since that night, ten months ago, but the harsh reality of my fear makes a few tears break the dam on the emotions I’ve kept locked down for so long. I wipe the tears away from my face, and try to breathe deep to calm my thoughts. Staring at Mac’s car in front of me, my focus narrows in on the sliver of his face that I can see in his side mirrors. Just that little connection with my Mate is enough to ground me. I know my mates would never intentionally hurt me. In the last twenty-four hours they’ve all proved– more than once– that they want me to have freedom and choices, that everything we do is at my pace, that they lead as a family, not as a dictator. I know that I can be a part of those families, I just have to get over my fear to do it.
Before I know it, my car is driving through the front gates and following Marco’s car up the worn-out track to the pack house. The front of the house looks completely different in the light of day; still as immaculate, but it looks softer, not as foreboding as it did last night. Just as I park and step out of my car, I look up and see Dylan walking down the porch towards me with a big grin on his face. As he reaches me, he grasps my head firmly between his two giant hands, and his lips descend on mine within seconds. His kiss completely shuts down every thought and feeling outside of his touch, the feel of his lips on mine, his hard body pressing against mine, and every single feeling that Dylan is trying to convey through this kiss. I feel too much, and not enough, all at the same time, and yet I can’t bring myself to pull away from him yet. I thread my fingers through his silky-smooth hair and tug his head closer, flicking my tongue across his lips to try to get him to open, and searching for any way possible to get more of the feeling he has ignited in the very core of me. Dylan’s lips begin to slow their possession over mine, until he is able to kiss me lightly one more time on the lips before pulling away.
“Hello, Beautiful, I need to start all our meetings like this,” he says with that one perfect dimple showing as his smile once again takes over his face.
“Mm. . . I may have to agree with you, except stopping there is no fun.” My pout forms over my face. His gaze heats instantly, the growling getting louder until I can feel the vibrations rippling against my skin. Placing my hand over his chest, I slowly run my palm backwards and forwards until the sound diminishes, the vibrating sensation still lingering in my hand.
“So, should we get this shit unpacked so that we can eat?” I ask, my gaze running between my two mates who are now standing side by side. You really can tell they are related, if
I didn’t know better I would say they are brothers instead of cousins. Both with that beautiful brown hair, tanned, olive skin, and lean, muscular, six-foot frames. Except for their eyes, besides the obvious colour differences, I could see the real them through their eyes. Dylan’s eyes are intense, and his eyes always look like he holds the world on his shoulder, always planning the next step. Marco’s eyes, well they are all heart; the kindness and humanity breaks through with such clarity.
“Actually, Ava, the pack is going to unpack your things, I am going to be taking you away for a late lunch. It’s all been prepared,” Dylan says, grabbing my hand and walking towards the pack house.
“I can’t let them do that, they’ll think I’m some high maintenance bitch who can’t carry her own luggage. Not exactly the best first impression, Dyl.” My teeth bite into my lower lip in worry.
“It’s fine, Beautiful, they understand.”
“At the very least, let me ask them if they are okay with it. I feel like an asshole,” I try to explain.
“Okay sure, if it is that important to you, I’ll introduce you to the guys taking your stuff up to my room,” he says casually. I continue walking up to the front door, wait did he just say his room?
“Your room? Bit presumptuous there?” The sarcasm leaks into my voice unintentionally. He stops abruptly, pulling on my hand to make me stop, too.
“Presumptuous? No. But, the thought of you sleeping that close yet so far, is not something that I relish. If for no other reason, I just want to feel you next to me,” Dylan says, staring me in the eyes. I’m unable to look away from those beautiful eyes, so much sincerity and honesty in them.
“Well, okay then. In all honesty, I probably would have ended up there, anyway, if last night was any indication,” I say with a shrug.
We make our way into the house, Dylan opening the door in front of me, and Marco following through behind me. The guys herd me into the living room where I can hear a movie playing. When I peek around Dylan’s broad back I see five men sitting in various states of relaxation all over the lounge. No one moves at the presence of their Alpha in the room, they just continue on with their movie watching. They don’t even give an acknowledgement to him. What the hell? Well, this is definitely going to take some getting used to.
“Hey, guys! This is Ava, my Mate. She wants to know if you guys mind moving her things from the car to my room?” Dylan says to the room. I elbow him in the side and move around him to see everyone a bit better. The five men are all dressed in variations of the same gym clothes, so I’m assuming they all just came from a workout or a run, because this level of outfit co-ordination is abnormal. Maybe they are pod people. Hmm, no, they can’t be pod people, they all look physically different. All five men look like they are under thirty, three out of the five have blond hair, and all of them are built like wrestlers and look too similar to not be brothers. One man has bright-orange hair and a genuinely happy face, and the last man has dark, midnight-coloured hair and hipster-looking glasses framing his face. What is with this pack? I have yet to see an unattractive person!
“Hi, guys, I’m Ava. It’s nice to meet some other people in the pack. What are all your names?” I ask the men who are just staring at me, trying to size me up. The black-haired hipster is the first to respond.
“I’m Blake, it’s nice to meet you, too, Ava,” he says as he stands up and walks over to shake my hand. Apparently, that was all the others needed to follow suit as they line up one by one to shake my hand.
“Hi, Ava, I’m Liam,” the red-head says, smiling as he firmly shakes my hand.
“We’re the William broth–” one of the blondies starts
“Ha! I knew you were brothers! Oh, sorry, please continue,” I say a little sheepishly after my outburst.
“I’m Brad, the brother with the green eyes. Nathan is the one next to me, and he has the brown eyes. The one on the end is Matthew, and he has blue eyes. It’s easier to describe us by eye colour, we apparently look too similar to tell apart,” the tallest of the brothers explains.
“Oh, well, that’s very handy, thank you! I actually wanted to ask you guys something. Dylan has informed me that you are moving all my shit to his room. To be honest, just letting you do that without asking you first makes me feel like a spoilt asshole. I can totally unpack my bags myself, so if you guys don’t want to do it, feel free to say no,” I say honestly, my gaze passing over all of them.
The men look around at each other, nod a few times, and apparently come to a group decision.
“No, it’s all good, Ava, we have nothing else to do today. Plus, it gives us a chance to snoop around Dylan’s room. He never lets anyone in there. Not even his lady fri–” Blake says, but right before he can finish that sentence Dylan has crossed the space and slapped a hand over Blake’s mouth.
“Blake, I think you’re done with this conversation, why don’t you and the boys start to unload the car? Now. Ava and I will be back later tonight,” Dylan says with a growl. I can hear Marco snickering behind me, only making Dylan growl louder. Well, time to defuse the situation a little before Dyl tries to eat someone.
“Well, if that’s the case. Dylan, I do believe we have plans, so why don’t we get a move on? I could eat a moose!” I say, the room erupting in laughs as my stomach growls loud enough for the room to hear, the guys all still laughing as they walk towards the front door.
Dylan and Marco’s pack mates exit the house quickly after that, leaving me alone with my two mates. I turn around and walk straight into Marco’s arms that he’s opened up for me. I snuggle in against his chest and neck, my nose brushing over the newly made mark. I feel like a fucking Care Bear, I’ve never cuddled so much in my life.
“Alright, Sweetheart, I need to go into work now. Have a good time with Dyl, try to behave today,” Marco says into my hair, his hands resting just above my ass.
“Have fun at work this afternoon, Mac,” I say right before I press my lips firmly to his.
“Where is this new Mate, Marco?” I hear a voice call out across the house, just as I pull away from Marco, jealousy spreading through me like a virus. I notice both Dylan and Marco tense at the voice and look at me with apologetic eyes.
“I didn’t know you were back yet. We’re in here, Mom!” Marco yells back, his head stretching back to look towards the back of the house.
Fuck. His Mom. I’m meeting my Mother- in-law already! Shit, I’m not ready for this yet, I’ve barely had time to get to know Marco! I step out of Marco’s arms and start brushing down my clothes, trying to straighten out my creased shirt, and patting down my haphazard curls. Dylan’s hands come down on my shoulders, trying to calm my frantic movement. A woman comes around the corner, her lovely, mahogany hair reaching her shoulders, and gorgeous, russet-coloured eyes scanning, judging me from head to toe. Her skin is a beautiful, olive colour that matches Marco and Dylan’s, she really does look like a typical Italian mother hen.
“Hi, I’m Ava,” I say, trying to control the shaking in my voice and hands as I reach forward to shake her hand.
“Oh, silly girl, I don’t shake the hand of my son and nephew’s Mate,” the woman says before enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug.
“I am Gabriella. I’m so glad they finally found someone! And, the same person none the less! Now, I need you to know, if you ever hurt my son or nephew I will hunt you down, cut out your tongue, and rip you a new breathing hole. Understood?” Her threat is voiced in the happiest tone I’ve ever heard, and only makes me laugh. The snarling anger of Dylan and Marco almost overshadows my laugh. This lady is a fruitloop!
“Oh my god, you’re almost as twisted as me! I love it! I promise you, I have no intention of ever hurting any of my Mates,” I say honestly, loving that Gabriella didn’t hide behind sweet platitudes, just came out with the God’s honest truth.
“Good, you’re not some simpering, shy woman. We will get along just fine then!” She laughs before crushing me into another hug and striding out of th
e room after giving each of my Mates a kiss on the cheek.
“Weirdest fucking meeting of the in-laws ever,” I say as I turn my head to stare at the two men who currently look like they’d been kicked in the face by a unicorn.
Chapter Seven
It only takes us fifteen minutes to pack Dylan’s car with his pre-made picnic, before getting in his shiny black Jeep and starting the drive to a secret location for our picnic. Dylan drives for about forty-five minutes before turning off onto a barely seen grass path. The car jumps up and down with every dip in the ground, thankfully it’s not bad enough that I need to grab the ‘Oh, Shit’ handle. The grass path leads us to a beautiful clearing with luscious- looking, green grass, the surroundings filled with beautiful, tall pines. To the left of the car is a crystal-blue river that looks about five meters wide with rocks lining the sides.
“Well, are you coming or not?” Dylan asks before patting my hand and jumping down from the car seat. He opens the back seat and picks up the picnic basket and red-striped picnic blanket that he’d packed before we left.
I hop out of the car, and fall flat on my face. Dammit, I’m a wolf. Where is the graceful co-ordination? I lift myself off the ground and look down, what the hell did I trip on? Oh, the giant-ass pothole that’s right outside my door. That makes sense. I begin to brush at all the dirt and grass that has now attached itself to my shirt and jeans, when I look around to see if Dylan saw that. I find my mate bent over at the waist, his shoulders jerking with silent laughter, and his hands covering his face. Looks like my hope at him not seeing my little trip was short lived. Fine, pay-back is a bitch.
“Oh, that’s right, just laugh at your mate who could have been injured. It’s not like you could have helped me, or anything,” I say with a fake sniffle. He stops instantly, his shoulders pulling up tight and concern washing over his face. He jogs over quickly and takes my face in his hands.