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They’re dancing, chatting, and drinking.
I frown, before typing.
SWEET VENOM: That’s going to spoil the surprise. We agreed, remember? And we’re so close.
SEVEN: I’ll bring you to me. Follow my directions.
I smirk.
SWEET VENOM: How commanding.
SEVEN: You love it.
I chuckle.
I do.
We both know it because of the consent forms that we’ve already filled in with kinks, fantasies, and limits.
In some ways, I know more about Seven than I know about anybody else.
Seven’s dominant but caring.
I love that combination.
SEVEN: Can you see the booths at the back?
I begin to walk to the back of the bar.
At each step, anticipation builds inside me. I’m thrumming with it.
Will he truly be my scent match? What will it feel like?
I don’t believe the TV shows, where scent matches fall into each other’s arms, starry eyed.
But still…what if…?
I can at least do with some stress relief after the hell of this week, and Seven has always offered me that.
The last five days have been a blur of work and worry. After the lost cake commission, we’ve barely managed to stay afloat.
I came up with the idea to make a cake out of cupcakes for Leo. At least then he would still have something for this birthday. He has social anxiety and rarely manages to celebrate anything. I hated to think that Vito and I would have fucked up something for Leo, when he was showing courage.
At the same time, Vito and I spent our nights this week, sending coded messages to Lincoln in viper talk.
Lincoln’s messages are cryptic.
The male Omega doesn’t appear to be harmed but he is living in the basement.
Lincoln has told us that he wants to gain more information on something bigger.
I don’t know what.
I do know that my heat is now so close that a rescue may have to wait until after my heat has happened. My mind has started to become hazy. It’s tougher to think straight.
SWEET VENOM: I’m walking toward the booths.
I keep my eyes on my phone as I type. I struggle not to walk into the crowds of mainly Alphas and Betas, who are dancing and kissing.
