Page 10 of The Heat of Us

“Wait, what about my heat?” There was a brief flash of defiance in her dark eyes. “I’m not going to stop using NOC’s heat services. With all due respect, you’re an excellent fuck but I’m not risking my health for that.”

I probably shouldn’t have been internally crowing over being called an excellent fuck but tiny celebratory flares erupted anyway.

I waved a hand. “That’s different. Of course you should do what you need to for your heats. The National Omega Commision have their own health checks, don’t they?”

I’d never been an alpha heat partner so I didn’t know. Sierra confirmed that I was correct.

“And personal life?” she prompted.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what do we do about other partners in our personal life? You are a very good-looking, presumably single alpha male. I am not expecting you to be a monk for my pussy.”

The fact that my mind went straight to some sort of filthy priest/confession booth roleplay was probably ripe for psychoanalysis.

But I also couldn’t shake the feeling that my dick had decided without me that he didn’t want to live anywhere else but inside her. It was inconvenient to say the least. Hopefully the feeling would go away once we weren’t locked together anymore.

“Well, let’s just get tested if there’s anyone new,” I suggested. She was an omega who was probably looking to get packed up eventually. Isn’t that what they all wanted? I wasn’t putting my hand up for it so it wasn’t like I had any grounds to ask her not to see other people.

I was personally taking a break from hookup culture — mediocre transactional-feeling sex got old after a while. Plus my, er, output was more impressive if I saved it.

“Can I trust you with that?” Sierra asked seriously.

“Yes,” I said emphatically. The thought of endangering her health made me irrationally upset. “And you?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll do right by you.” Sierra seemed satisfied at last. “Alright. I’ll think about being exclusive. Let’s see how these videos do.”

That was a poor barometer if she was trying to get out of it. I already knew this would push our subscriber counts into the stratosphere.

We lay in a slightly uncomfortable silence for another couple minutes. Her hands began to wander lazily over my bare skin. I unconsciously did the same, stroking up her arm. I brushed the strands of pink to the side, fingertips grazing her neck and Sierra froze.

I got the briefest glimpse of an old, faded bondmark before she pushed my hand off.

“Red,” she said coldly, before turning her face away from me.

That was fine.

I wasn’t here for her life story. As long as some alpha wasn’t going to come beat me up for fucking his omega, it wasn’t my business.

“Good. I didn’t want to know anyway.”

She looked back up at me pleasantly surprised. “Then this might work out perfectly after all.”

The concierge, receptionist, security minion — whatever you wanted to call him — gave me the biggest evil eye as I exited the lift.

I was pretty sure scanning my driver’s licence was not a requirement of entry into this high-end apartment complex. Especially not while being frowned at like I was being mentally put through an assortment of medieval torture devices.

“That was quick.”

I looked around at the empty lobby like there was a possibility he was not talking to me. “Me?” I asked, pointing at my chest and putting on my best flabbergasted expression.

His scowl got even darker. “Obviously.”

This beta really had a terrible poker face. “Don’t worry, I am very efficient. All parties have been left satisfied,” I assured him with a wink.

He stared at me. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

I dropped all my pretences. “I’m not the one who started the conversation, buddy,” I told him plainly. “I’ll see you next time.”

---