Chapter 47: Giggling & Kicking My Feet
Now I know what giggling and kicking your feet is.
Perched on the wide marble vanity in the ridiculous bathroom Vaela has provided for all of us while we figure, well, everything. I’m absolutely kicking my feet. Five massive alpha males, completely naked, just milling about as they brush teeth, wash faces, towel off from the shower.
Not to mention swinging, thick, heavy, veiny–
Yep, not the time. Down Frankie.
Steam curls through the room in lazy white ribbons. The place is huge, covered in dark stone, mood lighting, and the best bits, heated floors and a shower large enough to host a small conference.
Everywhere I look there’s another enormous man. It’s fascinating. Human men would be performing some bizarre dance of insecurity by now. Not wolves. Completely comfortable in each other’s space, they steal one another’s shampoo, argue over who used whose toothbrush, hand each other things without having to ask. It feels less like five separate people and more like a machine made of different moving parts.
Watching them together scratches some itch in my brain. Maybe because I spent so much of my life alone. Maybe because every time they settle into these effortless rhythms I get another glimpse of the years they shared before I appeared and turned everything upside down.
They’re so casual about it, so comfortable in their skin, in their pack dynamics.
And I’m just... here. Watching. An outsider looking in.
Jax emerges from the shower, dripping and points at me through the fogged mirror.
"Stop staring, perv," he teases. "Unless you’re gonna get in here with me."
"I’m people watching." I squeak.
"Dick watching, Frankfurter." He flashes me his stunning grin, sunshine no matter the weather.
Leo laughs without looking up from the sink.
Pack whore. The intrusive thought appears now, but it’s been pressing against my teeth since this afternoon.
That’s what those men had called me. Jealousy curdles my stomach until I feel nauseous. Is this what they do? Do they parade around naked with all the girls they fuck? Do they have a rotation? Am I just the entertainment to pass around until they get bored?
All I can think about is how many years they’ve lived. How many people they’ve known. How many women. The thought worms beneath my ribs and starts digging. They’re gorgeous, I mean out of this world hot, powerful, confident and more important than all that, genuinely good people. Of course there have been women before me. Why wouldn’t there have been? The rational part understands that, the irrational part is considerably less mature.
The irrational part wants to know names and dates and whether any of those women sat exactly where I’m sitting now. Whether they laughed with Jax. Whether Leo carried them around. Whether River understood them completely. Whether Ezra looked at them the way he sometimes looks at me when he thinks I can’t see. Did Corrian call them princess?
I hate how quickly the insecurity spreads. One moment I’m warm and content and happy, the next I’m staring at steam gathering on the mirror wondering if I’m just another Chapter in a story that’s already been written a dozen times before.
Ezra catches my expression in the reflection. His razor pauses halfway through a stroke. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, or call attention to it, simply studies me with those dark eyes that miss absolutely nothing.
I break eye contact and dig my nails into the edge of the vanity, trying to ground myself, trying not to let the spiral of insecurity drag me under. But it’s too late. The thoughts are already there, poisoning everything.
"Frankie."
The deep voice interrupts my spiralling thoughts. I look up to find Ezra standing in front of me. Without clothes on, he appears bigger than when he’s suited and booted. More intense than all of them, he emanates a vibe of hanging on by a thread. Always ready to snap, but never quite letting go. I don’t joke around or giggle with Ezra, but I know that if I asked, he’d move heaven and earth to pull the moon down for me if I mentioned how beautiful it was.
Right now, his endless eyes are locked on my face with a look that makes my skin prickle.
He plants his hands on either side of my hips, caging me in. There’s no ignoring his cock now, it’s right there, thick and heavy, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
"What’s wrong?" he asks, as low as his deep voice allows, so only I hear.
Since the whole, getting chased through the city, almost dying situation, he’s been more watchful.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice. If I speak, I’ll either blurt things out that I don’t want to know the answers to or cry. And I’m sick of crying.
His eyes narrow. "Don’t ignore me, little brat."
I shake my head again.
He grabs me, hauls me off the vanity and throws me over his shoulder. I yelp, my hands flying to his back for balance as he strides out of the bathroom. My bare ass is up in the air because I decided earlier that just my t-shirt was a good idea, his hand grips the back of my thighs. The other four alphas barely glance up, used to Ezra’s need to handle things his way.
"Put me down!" I squeak, wiggling and worming to get free.
He ignores me, just carries me through the suite to the massive bed dominating the room. He drops me onto the mattress, and I bounce once before he’s there, kneeling in front of me, between my spread legs, his hands gripping my knees.
"Talk," he snaps, voice low and commanding.
"Am I just a pack whore?" The words tumble out in a jumble. "Is this what you do? Bring girls in, pass them around, fuck them until you’re bored?"
A deep, dangerous growl rumbles from his chest. He climbs onto the bed, grabs my waist, and drags me to the middle, lifting my shirt up and over my head as he goes. He slides in behind me, spooning me with his massive frame, one heavy arm locking around my waist. Both naked now, I gasp as his nose buries in my neck, inhaling deeply, and rubbing up and down.
Another growl rumbles through his chest, this one I feel everywhere; against my back, vibrating through my core, making my pussy clench with need despite my emotional spiral.
"Listen to me very carefully," he growls into my ear, his voice rough. "Since we became a pack, we’ve always known there was one for us. One female meant for all five of us. One mate."
Mate. I read about mates, wondered and hoped that’s what this was. The confirmation from him is a key sliding into place, my heart aches.
His arm tightens around me. "We’ve never done this with anyone. No other girls. No rotation. No pack whore bullshit."
"But—"
"No." His teeth graze my earlobe, making me shiver. "You are ours. Our mate. The only one we’ve ever wanted, will ever touch like this. Do you understand me?"
"Ezra," I whisper.
"Say you understand." he crushes me against him.
"I understand."
"Good girl."
