Page 40 of Knot So Social

“What’s that?” I ask.

The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it right now.

“It’s the local heat service firm.”

“But—”

“They do house calls.”

My heart lights up with hope. “Oh. That’s great. And do they have good confidentiality agreements?”

“Of course. I’ve never heard a single complaint, and I’ve recommended them thousands of times.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll make contact.” Not like I have a choice.

“Let me know how you go.”

We chat for a few more minutes, discussing how the blockers work and what things to watch out for since this will be my first heat in years.

After hanging up, I drop my head into my hands and groan. I enjoyed not having to worry about my cycle. Not dealing with alphas and sex. Well, maybe that part’s a lie. I don’t know anymore. All I know is, I now need to bring a stranger into my home to fuck me senseless.

“Damn, this really sucks,” I say with a sigh.

Still, no time like the present, especially since these blockers will only work for a few more days. But knowing what I need to do and forcing myself to do it are two different things. The idea of a stranger coming inside my house and laying hands on me gives me tremors.

“You had Alessandro inside,” I mutter.

But that was different. He rescued Mr Shares, and dogs always know who means harm.

My precious boy whimpers and licks my face, his thick tail brushing across my knees as he wags it back and forth. “You’re right. I just need to put dog-lover on my list of requirements, don’t I? Who’s a clever boy?”

The service will have a list of requirements, right? I’m not just going to get any old gigolo? If that’s even the right word for them.

I’m being unfair and rude, but I can’t seem to stop. It’s my defense mechanism, I suppose. I’ve shut the world out for so long, the thought of opening up now has me shaking in my slippers.

But with every minute I delay, my heat gets closer.

I pat Mr Share’s back with long strokes for courage before dialing the number doctor Fiona just sent through.

“Welcome to Heat Wave, this is Debbie, how can I assist?”

I lick my dry mouth out. “Hi, my name’s Willow, and I think I’ll need some help with my heat in the next few days.”

“Okay, Willow, thanks for calling. Have you used our service before?”

“No. And I wish I didn’t need to use it now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are heats traumatic for you?”

Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to say that bit out loud. I grind my knuckles into my forehead. “Sorry, that was unnecessary.”

“It’s no problem at all. We’d rather know as much as we can about your likes and dislikes so we can match you with the right service officer. Can you tell me a bit about your previous experiences?”

“Um, sure. I guess?” I don’t want to say a word. Not about the years alone, living in my car, or the rags, and definitely not about the three men who came before all that.

“Take your time. We want you to be as comfortable as possible with our service.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Well, I’ve had . . . medical issues that stopped my heats for the last, um, seven years. This will be my first one in a long time.”