Breathless Between Three Alphas

POV: Tessa

The kiss was a violent, suffocating collision of teeth, heat, and raw Alpha dominance.

"Alright, I'll admit the guy is an arrogant prick, but his tongue game is absolutely lethal," Lyra purred, practically vibrating with toxic approval in the back of my mind.

"Ten out of ten for the underwater assault, babe, but push him away. Don't let him think he gets the whole meal for free."

I planted my hands flat against his rock-hard chest and shoved him back just enough to break the seal of his lips.

We broke the surface of the water simultaneously, gasping deeply for the cold, crisp night air.

My lungs were burning, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Chase didn't let me go.

His massive hands gripped my waist, pulling my soaked, trembling body flush against the scorching heat of his bare torso.

The silver silk of my dress had turned completely translucent in the pool, clinging to my curves like a second layer of skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Chase’s dark eyes dragged down my neck, lingering heavily on the deep plunge of my neckline before snapping back up to my swollen lips.

He lifted a calloused thumb, roughly swiping a drop of pool water from the corner of my mouth.

His pupils were blown wide, consumed by the thrilling, blinding high of a predator who believed he had just successfully cornered his prey.

"You're shaking, Beta," Chase murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a treacherous shiver straight down my spine.

Before he could pull me back in for a second taste, the slow, mocking sound of clapping echoed through the dark garden.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Chase’s entire body went rigid, a dangerous, warning growl tearing through his chest.

I peeked over his broad shoulder, playing the part of a terrified, confused girl.

Standing perfectly composed at the edge of the illuminated pool was Spencer.

"Oh, great. The politician is here," Lyra sneered, her mental voice dripping with supreme sarcasm. "Hide your wallets and your virtue, babe. This one smiles while he stabs you."

Spencer had his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers.

The silver moonlight caught the sharp, aristocratic angles of his jaw and the cold, calculating amusement dancing in his eyes.

"My, my, Chase," Spencer drawled, his voice as smooth and deadly as liquid velvet.

"The game has barely begun, and you're already trying to drown our prize in the deep end?"

Spencer took a slow, deliberate step closer to the water's edge.

"That is incredibly poor form."

Chase’s grip on my waist tightened to a bruising degree.

"Back the fuck off, Spencer," Chase snarled, his aggressive cedarwood pheromones exploding into the humid air like a physical threat. "She jumped in. I just caught her."

"And yet, she looks absolutely terrified of you," Spencer replied effortlessly.

A wave of Spencer's own pheromones—crushed juniper berries and dark, intoxicating bourbon—rolled over the pool, violently clashing against Chase’s scent.

"Look at them puffing out their chests like a couple of stray dogs fighting over a bone," Lyra laughed mockingly, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. "Pick the snake in the suit. It'll drive the naked one absolutely insane."

I let out a soft, pathetic whimper, shivering violently in the freezing water.

I shrank away from Chase’s burning chest, wrapping my arms around my own shoulders as I looked up at Spencer with wide, perfectly weaponized tears in my eyes.

Spencer’s eyes darkened at the sight of my pathetic, drenched state.

With elegant, unhurried movements, he shrugged off his expensive, custom-made suit jacket.

He crouched down at the very edge of the pool, extending a long, elegant hand toward me.

"Come here, Tessa," Spencer coaxed, his tone dropping into a dangerously gentle register that could have charmed a snake out of a basket.

"You're going to catch your death in that freezing water. Let me take you inside."

"Don't touch him," Chase ordered, his voice cracking like a whip next to my ear.

I let out another practiced sob, visibly flinching at Chase's harsh tone.

Slowly, hesitantly, I reached my dripping, freezing hand out of the water.

Chase let out a furious, feral hiss as my fingertips slipped from his chest.

I bypassed the wild Alpha entirely, placing my small hand directly into Spencer's waiting palm.

Spencer's lips curled into a terrifyingly triumphant smile.

His grip was shockingly strong as he hauled me effortlessly out of the pool and up onto the marble ledge.

Before the cold wind could even hit my soaked skin, Spencer wrapped his heavy, warm suit jacket tightly around my trembling shoulders.

The rich, intoxicating scent of his juniper and bourbon pheromones instantly enveloped me, drowning out the pool water and Chase's lingering cedarwood.

"Good girl," Spencer murmured against my wet hair.

He effortlessly swept me up into his arms, carrying me bridal style as if I weighed absolutely nothing.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, hiding the cold, calculating smirk that finally broke across my lips.

Behind us, a violent, raging splash echoed into the night as Chase furiously slammed his fist into the surface of the water.

Spencer carried me back into the sprawling mansion through a private side entrance, completely avoiding the crowded ballroom.

He didn't speak as we moved down a long, thickly carpeted hallway on the second floor.

He stopped in front of a heavy mahogany door, kicking it open with his foot and carrying me inside a dimly lit, lavishly decorated guest suite.

He set me down gently on the plush rug in the center of the room.

I kept my head bowed, clutching his oversized jacket tightly around my shivering frame.

Click.

The heavy, metallic sound of the door locking behind him echoed in the dead silence of the room.

"Oh, he locked it," Lyra chuckled darkly, her golden eyes flashing in my mind. "The polite gentleman mask is coming off. Show time."

I slowly raised my head.

The soft, gentle smile that Spencer had worn by the pool was completely gone.

In the dim light of the crystal wall sconces, his perfectly composed face had shifted into something undeniably predatory.

He took a slow step toward me.

I took a deliberate step back, letting my back hit the heavy wooden door behind me.

Spencer didn't stop until he was standing mere inches away, his towering frame completely boxing me in.

His eyes slowly, agonizingly raked down my body, studying the way the dripping wet silk of my dress clung to my shivering thighs beneath his jacket.

He lifted a hand, his cold, elegant fingers brushing wet strands of hair away from my neck.

His knuckles grazed the sensitive skin of my collarbone, sending an involuntary shiver through my body that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold.

Spencer leaned down, his warm breath ghosting across the shell of my ear.

"Now that we are all alone, little rabbit..." he whispered, his voice dark, husky, and utterly dripping with danger.

His long fingers slipped beneath the heavy lapels of his jacket, finding the top of the zipper on the back of my wet, ruined dress.

"Are you going to take this wet dress off yourself..."

He slowly pulled the zipper down a single inch.

"...or do you need my help?"