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Some omegas do just that for extra cash.
Not me, of course. Okay, maybe once. Otherwise, how the fuck would I even know about it? Sheesh.
The slick is a serious fucking problem. For a long while, I just lie here, blinking at the window that overlooks the bay, and pretend that I’m in a nest.
My own nest.
I’m surrounded by blankets, my favorite kind, as I pretend I am eating grapes from Zane’s hand. I will do anything to make that man my bitch, all while getting knotted.
Unfortunately, none of that is occurring right now. No, I’m just in here, making a little puddle on a bed that isn’t even mine.
It’s akin to peeing in a hotel room bed.
Not that I’ve ever done that either.
Noah did once, and he blamed me.
He gave me a black eye for it too, but I digress.
I don’t know what to do.
Ever so slowly, I sit up. It’s my own damn fault for sleeping naked, but the sheets are silky and soft but not silk, and I wanted to smother myself in the fabric last night, so I slept naked.
Peering down at the spot between my legs, I curse under my breath. One week until my heat. I need to think about how I’m going to handle it.
I have to revisit that shop. The heat suppressant should have put it off for a while, but honestly, I have no idea.
Even worse is the scent of Creamsicle in the room.
“I’m so fucked.” I groan, tossing the blankets off. Because of course, the universe has a wicked sense of humor, and right on cue, there’s a knock at the door. “Timing, thy name is irony,” I mutter, scrambling for cover.
“Yes?” I ask, panicked as I jump from the bed and stare at the offending door.
“Aria?” Quinn calls to me.
“Yes?” I repeat as I grab a T-shirt from my bag and tug it over my head.
For a moment, I think he’s going to demand to come in, but then he surprises me. “We have to head out this morning for security detail. I know you work, so I left you the keys to my car on the island.”
My shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispers before I hear his footsteps pad down the hall.
They are leaving me alone. This is good—better than good. I can strip the sheets, wash them, and then head to the little witchy shop and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do.
Easy-peasy lemon squeezy.
Then why do I stand in the bedroom, frozen and afraid to move?
Omega panic.
I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. This is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is under control. I just need to focus on the task at hand and not let my omega instincts take over.
Heh, sure, easier said than done.
Focus, Aria.
Panties, T-shirt, and laundry, in that order. There’s no need to run around naked.
