Mag-log inThe giggle that bubbles out my chest is so squeaky, I actually flinch. But it feels good, being around him feels good.
“You’re insane.”
“Dangerously charming,” he corrects with a wag of his finger.
“Cringe with a six-pack,” I counter.
“I could ruin your life,” he whispers, low and filthy and so not joking.
“I’d let you big boy.”
We are leaning towards each other, I'm trapped by the actual sparkle in his eyes.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I smile without effort.
A noise snags my attention. Is that…a grunt? I’m right in his face, I don’t think it came from him.
There’s another, a definite grunt this time and it pops the bubble of rosy haze around us. I pull up to my full height, tilting my head to try and pinpoint the source of the noise.
“Jax…” My tone questions without having to say anything else.
I turn back to look at him, the sweet smile from moments ago is gone. Replaced with pure sin slashed across his full lips. I watch his pupils dilate just slightly, enough to tell me whatever the grunting is, it’s no bad thing.
“Frankfurter, you’re gonna love this.”
Snatching my hand from my side, he pulls me down the stairs and we peel towards the side of the house. We’re crunching along a gravel path and he’s babbling about how he once got his dick stuck in a fence post here. Pulling laughter from my belly, real laughs, until we round the corner.
In front of me is what I can only describe as a mini sumo ring. A massive dirt clearing surrounded by a circle of pine trunks, holding thick netted fencing, fight club chic but make it rustic.
Quirky without a doubt, but the setting is not the problem.
Leo and River are in the middle of the ring bare knuckle sparring.
Both topless.
Both sweaty.
Both wearing gray fucking sweatpants.
I don’t remember giving my legs permission, but they stagger forward anyway, trying to offer me up as tribute. My brain’s screaming to look away, my eyes tell my brain to get fucked.
Leo moves like a pure viking berserker. Heavy, hard, all brutal strength and zero finesse. Every punch he throws is loud enough to shake bark loose from the trees. His back is carved from granite and another wicked scar slashes over one shoulder that makes me want to ask how he got it and kiss it at the same time. His thick, messy braid swings when he moves. His sweatpants hang dangerously low, flashing the promise of a V-line that could lead nations.
River is all contrast. Graceful and lethal. Still barefoot, fluid as an apex predator who enjoys the hunt. Pale skin, stacked muscles, those impossibly sharp cheekbones and black tattoos wrapping around his ribs. His hair is wet, sticking to his neck and still unreadable face. But his eyes are locked on Leo like they want to devour him.
Which is wild because I want to devour both. And in two breaths it’s pretty obvious they want to devour me. Because the second my foot crunches on a twig, they freeze mid-punch. Heads snap in my direction, bloodhounds scenting a fresh trail.
Leo’s chest heaves. River’s nostrils flare. Jax, next to me, goes completely still.
Welp.
They stalk toward me, forcing me to take a step back, heart thudding, thighs clenching, because something is very wrong and very right. My body’s going haywire.
My skin feels too tight. Rushing heat scorches my veins, a throbbing kicks up between my legs as if I’ve been edged for hours. My nipples pull into peaks, rock hard beneath my top, and I actually feel slick warmth pool in my panties.
This is not normal. None of it's okay.
I can’t breathe. Everything's too heavy under the weight of their eyes, all three of them, pinning me in place.
The sickest part? I like it. No, worse.
I need it.
Leo reaches me first and stops just inches from me, chest glistening, a slow growl rumbling in his throat as he looks me over. His eyes drop to my mouth, chest, soft tummy, hips. He grunts, and it’s pure filth.
River steps up on my other side. Silent, but the way his pupils blow wide? The way his tongue darts across his bottom lip as he smells me? It’s not subtle.
Jax pushes in behind me so I can’t see him, but I can definitely feel how much he’s reacting to this fucked up situation. I don’t think that’s a loose branch pushing into the small of my back.
I’m shaking. I don’t know if it’s fear or arousal or both, but I can feel it building, hot and thick and wet between my thighs. My mouth is bone dry and my legs are seconds away from giving in completely.
They form a triangle around me, completely boxing me in so I’ve no wiggle room. A war is raging in the depths of my twisted brain, because where’s the fight? Where is the adrenaline to save me from these strangers I've just met? My body is only fighting to rub itself raw against the closest thigh, and Leo’s is right there. Firm and fucking huge.
Jesus.
Jax’s breath catches beside me as he says,
“No fucking way, it’s not possible.”
Leo’s jaw tightens on a rumbling growl as he agrees,
“It’s a trick.”
What are they talking about? What trick? I’ve not tricked anyone.
No way I can hide my shock when it’s River who moves. He lifts one hand, grips my chin between his index finger and thumb, and tilts my face up. His touch is soft, but my whole body jolts as our skin meets, he’s wired to a detonator hidden deep in me.
I’m panting now, lips parted, and he just watches me.
He leans in, opening his mouth as it stops atoms away from mine, and drawing in my sharp breaths. Tasting me, inhaling me into his lungs.
“Aren’t you special, bunny.” His voice is the promise of bad things done very, very slowly.
A low, needy sound escapes me, drawn from me with just his words, shamefully raw.
Their reaction is instant, all three of them growl in unison.
The sound pulses in my chest, sinks into my spine, settles right between my legs sending more liquid heat to feed the throb.River is still nose to nose, his eyes consumed by black. Tilting his head to the left, I think for a split second he’s going to kiss me. Fuck, I want him to kiss me.
He shifts his face, running his lips along my jaw. Then in one slow, deliberate swipe, runs his tongue along my jaw and across my bottom lip, leaving a trail of wetness.
My whole pussy clenches and I gush. There’s no other word for it, because I've never experienced anything like it. I feel juices spill into my panties, hot and obscene as they all press in until there is no more space between us. Three huge bodies with me squeezed in the middle.
A livewire, feeding every single heartbeat to my cunt. I want to be touched, bitten, fucked until I forget my name. This is insanity. This is–
“ENOUGH!” Corrian’s voice tears through the air like a gunshot.
Everyone freezes.
I flinch so hard I nearly trip. Jax steadies me, Leo snarls under his breath, River steps back, but only just, watching me with that same wicked smirk.
Corrian storms out of the house, eyes blazing, jaw locked as he careens towards the skin sandwich they have built with me as the filling.
“Inside. All of you. NOW.”
My face is burning, my thighs are soaked, my heart is doing somersaults inside my rib cage.
I glance at the boys, there is no shame there, just feral satisfaction and three sets of tented sweatpants, evidence of just how affected they all were too.
Whatever just happened, I know one thing for sure.
I’m so fucked.
**********************************************************************************
The door clicks shut behind me with a softness that feels more dangerous than a slam, even the house knows the ice is wafer thin.
Corrian stands across from me, doing that thing again. Studying, assessing, jaw tight like he's chewing on something he doesn't want to swallow.
I get it. I do. Because what the hell even was that?
He drags a hand through his hair and finally says,
"I'm sorry."
That's what I was gonna say, so I'm more than shocked to hear it come from him. This was all my fault right? I cross my arms purely because I need something to hold. And unfortunately, my sanity packed up and left somewhere between River's tongue and Jax's semi comment.
"For what?" I ask, and I hate that my voice comes out smaller than I mean it to.
He lifts his eyes to mine, and there's a crack in him now, something behind that perfect composure that looks a lot like regret.
"For our lack of control," he says. "They know better."
My mouth opens. Closes. Words scramble for order, but none of them stick.
Because what do you say when you just got snarled at and sniffed and nearly fucked in the woods by men you just met, and your body betrayed you by loving it?
I shake my head. "I know I signed the contract. But, look, I'm going home."
There, said it. Out loud. Ripped off a Band-Aid soaked in sex pheromones.
He doesn't argue, doesn't do the controlling Alpha-hole thing I fully expected. Instead, he nods slowly, eyes flicking to the floor like he's disappointed, but not in me. Just in everything.
"Can I give you a ride?"
The way he says it, a genuine, soft-spoken offer from this man, what can I say.
The answer Frankie, is no, you need space to think away from testosterone drenched hot men.
But I nod. Walking away from this place on shaking legs and shattered thoughts? That feels like surrender.
And Frankie Bell doesn't surrender.
The ride home was uneventful, we took one of the blacked out SUVs in silence and I got him to drop me a block over so he didn't know my address. Safety first and all that.
I did let him put his number in my phone before I got out.
The second I shut my apartment door behind me, the air feels too thick to breathe. I don't bother turning on the lights, just stand there in the dark, the silence pressing in on me. My mind's a broken projector reel, flashing images I can't unsee.
Sweat. Teeth. Growls. Hands on my waist, breath on my neck, heat licking up my thighs like a goddamn wildfire. My cheeks flush, stomach knots.
I flop down to the floor and stare at the ceiling praying it has any answers. It doesn't offer a thing.
Just that weird stain above the light fixture that looks vaguely like a howling wolf.
Comforting.
The declaration hits low and hot and wrong in a way that makes my body arch beneath him.Ezra groans softly.“There,” he murmurs against my throat as he lowers himself over me. “That’s what I’ve been smelling.”His face buries against my neck, inhaling deeply enough that I shiver all over. He starts rubbing against me slowly, dragging his body along mine with deliberate pressure that dissolves my thoughts.He’s heavy everywhere. Solid muscle and warmth and expensive fabric dragging against my skin while he buries his face against my throat. His hands smooth down my sides, gripping my waist, his nose drags along my jaw, through my hair. Every breath he takes sounds rougher than the last.Horrifyingly, my body responds to all of it. He’s trying to cover me in himself and my eyes flutter shut.The sour lingering wrongness from Darren fades beneath him.“Ezra,” I whisper shakily.“Still smell wrong.” His mouth brushes the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “Can’t stand it.”The possessiveness
I stare at him. Yep, he’s finally lost whatever fragile grip he had on sanity.He stares right back at me, one hand still buried at the nape of my neck, dark eyes fixed on my face.The shopping bags hanging off my arms feel ridiculous. Tiny little paper shields against whatever the hell this moment is becoming.“You can't ask people things like that,” I tell him, trying for offended and landing somewhere closer to breathless. “You sound like a jealous Victorian husband.”Ezra doesn’t blink. “You let another male touch you,”That sends a weird little tremor through me. Those words aren’t sexy, absolutely should not be sexy. But there’s something underneath them, raw, furious in a way I’ve never seen from him.Usually Ezra hides everything behind polished smiles and expensive sweaters and dry little comments that make me want to bite him. Tonight he looks wrecked by me.The evening light catches sharp angles of his face as he stands over me on the deck. Heat blooms low in my stomach.So
“You literally gave me chlamydia.” I blink at him flatly. “In my defense, I didn’t know.”“Strong defence.”His grin widens. “Come get dinner with me.”“No.”“Drink?”“No.”“Coffee?”I hold up my iced coffee. “Already sorted, thanks.”He sighs dramatically, as if I’m being difficult instead of maintaining basic survival instincts. Before I can dodge him, he grabs me into another hug.And does something weird, even for him. He inhales deeply against my hair, sending a shudder violently down my spine.Revulsion simmers as every instinct in my body screams. Darren goes strangely still, his grip tightens fractionally.“What perfume is that?” he murmurs.“I’m gonna need you to stop smelling me like a mutt.”A car horn sounds nearby and my Uber pulls up beside the curb, divine intervention itself.“Thank Christ.”I wrench free and practically dive toward the car. Darren catches my wrist lightly before I can open the door.“You disappeared, Frankie.” The seriousness in his voice catches me
The daycare kids are either tiny geniuses or future supervillains. There is genuinely no middle ground.It’s been four days since the whole naked-balcony-furry-forest-fight incident, and somehow nobody has acknowledged it directly since. Which feels more disturbing than if they’d sat me down with a PowerPoint presentation titled So You Accidentally Joined A Cult.Instead, life has carried on with this bizarre, unsettling normalcy that keeps making me question whether I imagined half of it. The children still growl occasionally. One little girl hissed at a pigeon yesterday. A toddler named Max climbed a bookshelf without using his hands. And this morning, a five-year-old looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You smell happier now,” before biting another child over a juice box dispute.I did paperwork after that. Mostly because I needed a moment.Still, despite the deeply concerning feral undertones, I kind of love it here.Which feels suspicious.The kids are too clever. They absorb in
“The world’s a shitty place,” he says quietly. “So I’m gonna teach you some important things.”The words catch me off guard. Not because they’re dramatic, River doesn’t speak dramatically, he says things plainly.Because nobody’s ever taught me things before just because they wanted me safer. I cover quickly with sarcasm because emotional vulnerability is for people with stable childhoods.“What, like taxes?”“Self-defense.”“Oh.”River steps closer until the toes of his boots are a breath from mine. Slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away, he lifts one hand and tips my chin upward gently.Heat floods through me as his thumb brushes once across my cheekbone.“You’re small,” he murmurs.“That is the first time anyone has ever said that.” I huff a laugh. “River, my dear, I am not small.”“You’re smaller than me, than us.” His gaze skims down my body. “Perfect.”I blink.“People underestimate you because you smile when you’re uncomfortable.”That one lands directly in my unresol
River does not explain the tail.Which, personally, I think is wildly unfair considering I just watched Corrian tackle three furries who were talking shit about me into the forest like a divorced dad at a rugby match.Instead, he waits patiently while I finish dragging my jeans on the correct way around, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest like this is a completely normal Tuesday morning and not the beginning of my psychological collapse.“You gonna murder me?” I ask finally.River blinks once. “No.”“Kidnap me into your weird woodland mascot cult?”“No.”“Gaslight me about the ears?”A pause.“Yes.”“At least you’re honest.”That almost-smile appears again. Tiny and barely there unless you’re looking for it.I hate that I’m already learning his expressions.He pushes off the wall then and crosses the room toward me with that same unnerving silence that clings to him like smoke. The others fill space naturally, River somehow moves through the world without d







