Page 53 of Wanted Beta
The gorgeous men behind the front desk might look clothed from where I’m standing, but clearly, the swarthy, tall one with the big arm muscles is balls-deep in the pale blond who’s bent over the desk.
Swarthy stops moving when he locks gazes with me, and his delicately beautiful partner lets out a soft moan of protest.
I take in a breath.
Mistake! Oh, God, but what a mistake it is.
The spicy-sweet scent on the air instantly makes my mouth water.
It’s him. It’s the blond. He’s an Omega.
And that would make the tall, brooding one his Alpha.
What a combination. They’re so different, yet equally appealing.
I can feel my body reacting to the perfume as if it’s an aphrodisiac.
I guess that’s exactly what it is.
I’ve just never breathed in a male Omega’s perfume before.
“Wow,” I murmur, as I awkwardly reach back for the door handle.
My panties are actually getting damp. I seriously need to get out of here.
Despite knowing that, I can’t seem to take my eyes off them. It’s insanely inappropriate for me to be standing here watching these guys fuck like this is a live sex show or something.
Finally, I capture the door’s handle in my grasp, and I let out a relieved sigh.
To my horror, the handle sticks when I push down, and I turn toward it swiftly, sure I must be doing something wrong. It turns out I’m not. For some reason, the door locked when the wind blew it shut. It’s not just going to open.
Talk about a disaster. I straighten up and turn back, hand over my eyes.
“I’m really fucking sorry, but your door is locked now, which I assume it was supposed to be before I barged in here, and now I can’t get out.”
I force myself to breathe through my mouth.
The scent of that Omega’s perfume is too delicious.
I don’t want to make this whole situation creepy.
It’s already awkward enough.
Pretty sure if I started drooling uncontrollably it would be crossing a line.
When I risk a glance at them, the Alpha’s still very obviously inside his mate.
What do you expect, dummy? This is an Alpha and an Omega.
You know what a knot is. You know how it works.
Wake up and smell the swollen cock.
Despite clearly being in the throes of a knotting, the blond picks up the receiver of the phone that’s sitting on the desk beside him. His breathing is a little labored as he punches a number into the keypad, but he manages to draw me a wry smile when his dreamy gaze falls on me.
God, he’s gorgeous.
All Omegas are, I guess, but wow.
