On the car ride home, Freya leaned in to me and whispered, “Riley says if I go down on you real good, he’ll let me do him.”
I swerved and hit the brakes hard, thanking the heaves that Riley was wearing a seatbelt as he snored and drooled in the backseat.
After a breath or two, Freya giggled maniacally. The little minx!
“Not when I’m driving, Freya,” I moaned.
“That was stupid of me. I’m sorry.”
“Never again. I promise. I do like living, I assure you.”
I eased up on the brakes and got it moving again.
“Riley, wake up,” I said when we reached the house. “If you don’t, Freya will carry you. You’re not eleven anymore and my back is not what it used to be.”
Riley roused awake and unhooked his seatbelt. “I’m up,” he mumbled. “I fucking want to watch Freya suck you off. Then I want a nice long nap.”
“Not today, Riles. You’re beat and we need to get up early.”
Riley slept like a corpse. A stumbling, muttering corpse. And he swore more in his sleep.
Freya helped get one side and I got the other and we half-dragged, half-carried him through the front door.
“Anything interesting happen?” my mom asked, as soon as we stumbled in. She ran an assessing eyes over Riley and sighed. “If I had not raised him, I would have sworn you raided the Wolf Wine.”
“No, mom. We know better than that.”
She shot me a flat look. “And also because I know Riley sleeps like the dead. Have fun getting him up there.”
It was not fun. It was torture. I started to wonder if leaving him asleep in the car wouldn't have been the better option.
Riley half-shifted and sank his sharp coyote-nails into our shoulders. Our clothes right above there were crimson by the time we dropped him into bed.
“Should we undress him?” Freya asked.
“To his briefs,” I replied.
We tugged off his boots and pulled down his jeans, then wrestled him out of his dress-shirt.
Damn, his skin was beautiful. Pale and only slightly muscled-- thanks to shifter genes. It was strange because while he was slight compared to me, he could lift me with one hand.
Freya changed into one of our sweatshirts. It was dark, and all I had to rely on was smell. Useless because those things smelled like the three of us combined. It was heady and I loved it.
We snuggled in around Riley, sandwiching him between us. We kissed him lovingly and nuzzled him gently until we too fell asleep.
“Really Riley!” Dustin slammed the door behind him.
“What?” I asked, looking away from the bag I was packing.
We-- meaning the three of us-- were going to the beach. It was a Sunday and since Dustin was leaving us for the office on Monday the next day, we figured it wold be a nice change for the scenery at home.
“Don’t play coy with me, Riley! I know you put her in that outfit on purpose.”
I raised my eyebrows, feigning innocence. I was not, in fact, innocent. I was guilty as a mother. Dustin had this “thing” with Freya’s dressing style. To be more exact: the way I dressed her.
Freya, bless her soul, was completely oblivious to it. For the most part, all she noticed was his raging lust. His caveman instincts to lock her away in a tower where no one would never bask in her beauty. He downright glared at anyone who so much as even glanced at her.
I was the laid-back mate. The one that wanted my baby to shine.
“You can’t let her leave the house like that,” he ranted, pacing the room.
“First of all, I thought we agreed not to use that word. Seriously, Freya doesn’t care what she wears. She just wants to hang out with us and mix cocktails.”
He gave me his long-suffering look.
“The problem is,” I wedged, delicately, “you’ve spent your whole life leering at girls and now all your guilt is coming back to haunt you, and its going to suffocate her to the point that she can’t leave the house without feeling like she’s upsetting you. You know this; pretty soon we’re going to like...read each other’s minds and stuff.”
“Are you worried she’ll find other guys or something?”
“No,” he sighed. “Even if she’s extremely flirty,” he grumbled. “I’m still not even sure if that’s intentional or not. Wolves mate for life.”
“So do coyotes,” I added.
“Yeah. They better,” he warned.
“So..... the real problem?”
“I don’t trust the rest of the world. What if they...hurt her?”
“Oh.” I had not considered that at all. “Well, she’s a wolf, so human guys can try, but she’ll break them into tiny little pieces. Easy. Shifter guys can try too, but her mom gave her all that martial arts training and Siren wolves are the strongest wolf there is, right? And vampires....well, I’m not sure if they’re stronger than shifters or not, but she has two really strong mates who would kill-- and I mean kill even Cole so he better not show his stupid face around here-- for her. So relax.”
“And....” Freya added from the doorway, behind me, “Riley has ummm.....a cute? Obsession with my boobs.” She gave me a long
look, daring me to deny it.
I coughed really loud and power walked to our bag on the bed.
“This is ready, we should leave.”
She cackled. “Omega.” And then, “Hey! that’s a nickname.”
“No!” I said, walking past her and out the door.
“Yes,” she insisted, skipping at my heels. “I like it. I said it that first day when I crept up on you for the first time, remember?”
“Isn’t that like a derogatory term for the weakest member in a pack?”
She slowed down to a walk besides me. She scrunched up her brows. She stayed that way, through the house, through the front door, into the car, and long after the drive began.
“I don’t think them weak,” she said suddenly.
“What?” Dustin asked from the backseat, at the same time as me.
“Omegas,” she clarified. “Sirens strengthen the pack. Omegas strengthen their mates, which in turn if you think about it strengthens the pack.
“Most so called “omegas” aren’t even real omegas. Being the weakest does not make you an omega. Being an omega makes
you the weakest. They’re like us; we were special once, then--” she shrugged,“-- we weren’t anymore.”
I found a parking spot. “So am I your omega because I make you stronger?”
She turned to face me. “That isn’t why I called you “omega” all those times. But you do make me stronger.” She studied my face and smiled. “But from now on when I call you that, that will be why.”
I grinned sappily. “I’d like that.”
“Just not out in wolf-public, okay?” Dustin said.
“Alright, handsome,” I said.
Freya slapped my arm. “That’s my line.”