Page 15 of The Omega Verse

I can feel it now; a trickle in my undies, like I’ve laughed so hard I’ve peed myself. Oh god, I wish someone had told a really good joke.

“It's okay, love,” River tells me, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “It's a natural response to alpha pheromones.”

My head now snaps Jett’s way, since he’s the only alpha in sight. The way his eyes bulge out of his sockets would be funny if my head wasn’t about to explode - and my undies weren’t growing wetter by the second.

“Hold up a second!” he croaks, waving both hands like I’m about to leap across the bus at him. “I’m not doing anything but having my coffee and minding my own business.”

River rolls his eyes at him, but Silva bristles, his jaw clenching as he glares at Jett. “What the hell, man? You’re a really unhelpful motherfucker, you know that?”

“Oh, dear,” River sighs, but Jett is now strangling the whiskey bottle and glaring back at Silva. “Unhelpful, am I? Then who just gave your career the biggest fucking injection in music history? And who let you sit on Stix Rain’s throne at his goddamn tribute concert so you could pretend you have even a fraction of his talent? Not to mention, who the fuck invited you and your groupie on my bus for some R&R?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Jett, what the fuck?”

River is staring at his bandmate in horror, but it doesn’t deter Jett in the least. Instead, he drops the sarcastic bastard routine, and goes for full bastard. “Tell us straight, kitten. Is this some kind of con so you can stay on our bus?”

I have about a million pissed-off answers for that. But the pain that suddenly grips my core has me choking on my next breath. It’s a pulsing wave that makes my knees shake and my face burn, because it’s definitely coming from deep in my pussy.

Which makes my heart start to pound, too. Because I’ve heard the horror stories about unplanned first heats. How girls can be walking to school, or sitting in the middle of class, and they suddenly go off like a firecracker. I remember thinking that if it was that bad, they deserved to be coddled and fussed over for the rest of their lives. I was just glad I’d lost my ticket in the genetic lottery.

But while River stares at me with concern welling in his eyes, Jett has strolled over to us, close enough for me to reach out and touch. And to my horror, my body reacts to him the same way it did to Silva in the green room. My belly tightens, my core tingles, and my skin feels like it’s being bathed in liquid sex.

My hormones are clearly having a party and they don’t care how picky I am with the guest list.

But Jett looks all business as he studies me. “Where do you live, if not the city?”

“Sandy Bay.” I clench my hands together to stop my thighs from doing the same. “It’s a town down south.”

“I know it,” he surprises me by saying. My scrambled brain recalls that he grew up on the east coast, but maybe he likes to surf. It’s the only reason our sleepy town is on any kind of map. “That’s five hours from the city, right?”

“In a Ferrari, maybe. The bus I took made it in just under seven.”

He raises his brows at that, but looks at River for confirmation. “We’re already six hours out? So, it’ll take about twelve plus change to get her home if we turn around now. It’ll add an extra day to our travel time, but the charter we’ve booked doesn’t start until the middle of the week.” He looks at Silva, then flicks his gaze away. “I’ll assume you’re all good with that plan.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, still trying to deal with the fact I’ll be on this bus for another twelve hours. “And I’m sorry to be taking you all out of your way.” I focus on River, knowing I’m right on the edge of a meltdown. “Is there somewhere I can lie down for a bit?”

“Of course. We have a bedroom at the back.” I hesitate, realising it’s probably Jett’s space, but River just gives me one of his soft smiles. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable there than one of the bunks.”

“I’ll come get you settled,” Silva says, which I kind of expect since his arm is still wrapped around my shoulder. Jett doesn’t say anything as we head towards the back of the bus, and I’m grateful he keeps his bitching until I’m out of earshot. I can usually give as good as I get, but I’m feeling way too fragile right now.

When River opens the door to the bedroom, I’m relieved to see it looks pretty normal. Just a bed that takes up most of the space and built-in shelves on the walls. There’s a bunch of books, toiletries, and knickknacks, but it doesn’t look so different to a small hotel room.

“We have a separate area for our clothes and gear, so it’s pretty basic,” River tells me as he presses a button on the wall and the light dims to a twilight glow. “Not exactly a nest, unfortunately, but there are extra blankets and pillows in the pull-out.”

He demonstrates by pressing a toe against a silver handle at the base of the bed and a drawer full of plastic-wrapped bedding slides out. Instead of grabbing something, he points to it. “Take whatever you want. It’s all brand new.”

I pause, confused, since there is already a gorgeous black and gold comforter on the bed. But maybe that’s Jett’s personal bedding, or something, so I grab a pillow and blanket. They’re both wrapped in thick cling film, and River nods for me to open them. I’m not sure if having your bedding shrink-wrapped is a rockstar thing or a germaphobe thing, but I’m too exhausted to ask.

I just want to face-plant in the middle of the bed and wake up to a life – and a designation - I recognise.

But just looking at that silky, expensive comforter reminds me of the issue in my undies. “I don’t suppose I could borrow a t-shirt or something…”

“Got you covered,” Silva says behind me, stepping into the bedroom with a small pile of clothes. I didn’t even notice him ducking away, which goes to show my state of mind at the moment. But I take the clothes with a relieved sigh. There’s a pair of navy sweats, a white tee, and another of his hoodies. They all smell faintly of him, and my pussy gives another hungry clench.

Oh, God.

My hands are shaking as they step back into the corridor, and I quickly peel off my jacket, jeans, and tank. I fold them all and place them next to the bed, but I hesitate over my underwear. My boobs are big enough that it’s uncomfortable to sleep in a bra, so I usually wear a tank. There’s nothing worse than having the underwire biting into my ribs all night.

How much worse will it be during my heat, when my boobs are already all tingly and sensitive? I groan as I strip my bra off, trying to avoid cutting myself on my rock-hard nipples.

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