Page 41 of Knot My Only Fan

“Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. Just fucked.”

“Fucked?” I repeat.

“Yeah. What are you doing right now?” Lucas asks.

“Apart from being fucking worried about you. I thought someone had kidnapped you. I was just about to call your father, who is also looking for you.”

“I’m alive...”

“Good, and I’m just chilling.” Trying to hold back my pissed off voice. “Listening to music.”

“Have you been whoring tonight?”

“Fuck off Lucas. I haven’t fucked a beta since we lost the game.”

“What about an omega?” he asks. He thinks I’m fucking stupid if he thinks that’s going to catch me out.

“I’ve never ever fucked an omega. I’m saving myself.” It’s the first time I’ve told him. He watches his girls on BetaFans and I fuck betas. We’re practically the same.

Sort of.

“You are?” he questions. There’s a hum in his tone before he says. “What about the girl in Texas?”

I growl. He knows I followed him to our room. “I came back to the room just after you left, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses a beat and I hear the sweetest murmur in the background.

“Where are you?” I ask, because if he’s been giving me a hard time about fucking women and doing it himself, he’s going to hear my wrath.

“I need your help?”

“For what?”

“You know the omega from OmegaFans that everyone was going to watch during her heat?”

“Mm.”

“She’s my BetaFans girl.” There’s an audible swallow. “She’s revealed as an omega, and she’s in heat... Now.”

“How do you know it’s the BetaFans girl? Didn’t you say she blocked you?”

“She did. But then she decided she wanted me to take her through it. Oh, fuck it. Stanton, I need your help. I’m fucked. She’s rampant, and I’ve kept up with her for forty-eight hours, but now I need to sleep for longer than half an hour. I need to recharge. Even if it’s only for two hours. She only sleeps for fifteen to thirty minutes depending on how hard she comes, and then she’s raring to go again. I know she’ll go in a heat room with a pack of alphas if I don’t keep her satisfied.”

“You want me to fuck an omega?”

“My omega,” he says roughly.

“Is she? I thought you didn’t want an omega.”

“She’s different.”

“Does she smell like yours? Does she smell perfect?”

“She does. But she’s refusing to talk about scents. So I don’t know if we’re a match.”

“Where are you?”

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