Page 47 of Bad Girl

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“We always were, baby, but all we can do is stick together for that.” He dragged my eyes away from the predatory alphas and back to him. “Promise me that we’ll get through this together, forever.”

“Forever,” I replied, knowing it was stupid but unable to stop myself.

Chapter 19

I was in hell.

“Eat up, omega. You’ll need your strength.”

I looked up from the platter of food that they’d ordered for me and knew that some omegas would hate this—the intent focus on what I was eating, the ordering for me, the removal of Kit from the conversation and replacing her with the generic ‘omega.’ But that wasn’t what was pushing me deeper into perdition.

Because the title, the growly commands, their steady gazes, meant they weren’t men right now, with conscious thought or civilised impulses. I smiled as I sliced into the bacon, cutting off a mockingly small amount before popping it into my mouth. When they were alpha, I was omega, and part of me liked that very much. The low growls of appreciation that came from all three of them for such a simple act? That made her preen.

“And don’t you need your strength?” I asked Tris, cutting off a chunk of sausage before spearing it on my fork, then offering it to him. “Aren’t you an omega?”

“Sometimes.” Whoa, he’d never acknowledged that before. “Sometimes I’m not. Sometimes, I think I feel just like they do.” His eyes slid sideways to where the other men sat, elbows on the table so they had a ringside seat with which to watch everything, their own food untouched. “Like every mouthful you take makes me feel…satisfied, settled.” He blew out his breath. “Like I provided for you or something.”

“That’s it,” Len said, moving slowly to place a hand on

his shoulder with the kind of casualness two friends would, rubbing a small circle there. “Protect, provide, possess—that’s pretty much the alpha motto.” But he didn’t catch the moment when Tristan’s eyes slid almost closed just before he withdrew his hand.

“So that’s the way it works,” James said, his voice…careful now, like he was aware he was walking through emotional landmines. “I knew there was something different between the two of you, but… You don’t feel omega?”

“Sometimes I do.” Tristan was answering the question, but his boundaries were going up superfast. He straightened up, staring down the table with a defiant look. “Sometimes, I just want to be pinned down, held in place, and forced to…feel.”

Low growls at that, but as I saw the sweat prickle across Tristan’s brow, I knew he was feeling the frenzy rise, that he hadn’t taken his suppressants and was therefore on edge. Then his eyes shot to me.

“When I’m with Kit, I love to hold her down on the bed, to tease her until she’s damn near screaming for me, then every thought about the servants or her siblings is gone, and there’s only me and what I can give her.”

Then he snorted, his fingers stroking the handles of his cutlery, like he hadn’t decided whether to use them to slice up his food or the mood at the table.

“But that’s a knife that cuts both ways.” I was his focus right now, and he was telling me something very important. One of the lies, it was about to be revealed before everyone here. “Because I need a hand on the back of my neck, forcing me to lick her cunt as she squeals. I need a hand tracing down my spine, trying to force my attention away from her and refocus me anew. I need thick fingers wrapping around my cock at the same time as her little delicate ones do, running the fingertips through my slick, smearing it across my arse as they—”

“Ah…was there anything else I can get you?” a voice said, everyone’s head jerking up to see a wide-eyed beta waiter standing there.

“The bill,” James said, his voice every inch a Chadwick right now, “and the food wrapped to go.”

“They haven’t eaten enough,” Len argued.

“They will,” he shot back. “Right after they’ve shown us what they’re talking about. You’re in frenzy.”

There was something of an accusation in his words, but his expression belied that. James didn’t look worried at all. We nodded.

“And are using some incredibly effective scent blockers, because I had no idea. We’ll go to my studio, let them show us who and what they are, because that determines everything going forward, doesn’t it? We can skirt around things and play coy, but these two, they control this. Their relationship is at the heart of things, and whomever they choose to include within it.”

It wasn’t the wildly romantic date that Tristan had ordered, but I couldn’t bring myself to mind. Our plates were removed, the contents returned in clean white boxes tied with string that Len took command over. There was a little to-ing and fro-ing about who would pay the bill, before it was agreed that James would because he’d initiated the date, then we were swept out of the café and into the carpark.

“Tristan,” I said as he turned to walk over to Len’s car. I grabbed his hand in mine, stroking his palm. “If we do this, if we show them this, you need…” I frantically swallowed the big lump in my throat. “I need you to show me what you need too.”

“I need you,” he replied sharply.

“You need more than that. You know I’m right. I need to see, Tris, all of it.”

He just stared, his body rigid, a man at war with himself, but even though I had no alpha tendencies, I was a very good omega. I could beg and plead my way through almost anything, and when I got a terse nod from him, I flushed with pleasure. I bounced up and pressed my lips to his, his arms wrapping tight around me in response.

“But you can’t ever pull this shit again, Kit. You’re mine, say it. Say it, Kit.”

“I’m yours.”


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy