Page 84 of Claiming Their Omega

It’s about a one night stand, after all. In the story, the main character approaches her best friend’s older brother—I switched the relationships around a bit in the story so that nobody would realize I was drawing so closely from real life—and asks him to help her learn about sex.

As I read through it now, the words remind me so much of what actually happened. How Jesse turned me down, and the honorable intentions behind it. The misinterpretation. It makes me wonder about what would’ve happened if he’d said yes. What might’ve followed.

How fun it would be to explore that ‘might have been’ through the lens of these characters.

I bite my lip. I focused so hard on the business side of the publishing industry. Not as a writer. I put those dreams aside. For good reason, I thought. But I really do love to write, and now… now I’m an Omega. Everything about my life is changing, anyway. I have no idea where my career is going to go or how my office will treat me with my new status.

Maybe if I do want to try writing, now’s the best time. I have nothing really to lose.

There’s no harm in writing it for fun and seeing where it goes, I tell myself sternly, giving myself a pep talk.

I go upstairs to my room and settle in at the desk set against one wall, hoping that being so close to my nest will help me feel cozy and confident. Maybe even a little sexy, given all that went on in this room. Maybe it will give me some subconscious inspiration.

Then I start writing.

Well… I try.

I glare at the document on my laptop screen. If this were a movie, I would sit down and the words would burst out of me, and it would turn out that inspiration was waiting inside me all along. I’d realize how good I am and how easy this all is.

But instead of anything magical like that, I can’t think of a single word to write.

Great. I already have writer’s block.

Okay, well, this original short story was based in part on real life. Maybe I can draw on real life again for this initial scene, just to help myself along. I can write the sex scene, but just write down some actual sex I had in my heat. Practice describing it, transposing those feelings and emotions for the reader.

My face heats up with embarrassment and arousal as I start typing. Remembering all the ways the men made me orgasm, and how good they made me feel, has me getting a little wet.

“Hey, princess, I—whoa.”

Easton stops as he enters the room, his eyebrows shooting as I slam my laptop closed. I can feel my face on fire, and I know I’m blushing.

He cocks his head slightly, studying me with a curious look. “Uh, are you shopping for more toys?”

“Haha.” I roll my eyes. “No.”

“Good. I’d hate to think you can’t come to one of us to… take care of things.” Easton’s voice is dripping with promise, and my thighs clench in response.

I swallow. “No, no, nothing like that.”

“Then what are you working on?”

I take a deep breath. If I try to lie or deflect, he’ll just tease me more and get more suspicious. “I’m writing something, actually.”

His face lights up with excitement. “You are? That’s great!” His enthusiasm makes my heart melt. “What are you writing?”

“Uh…” Heat rises up my face again, for an entirely different reason this time.

As if he can read my mind, Easton smirks. “What were you writing, Miss Whitmore?”

“N-nothing.”

He saunters over, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, I think it’s something.” He leans closer to the desk, petting my thigh. “You’re so flushed. That’s definitely not from nothing.”

I whimper as his fingers brush higher. “I—I was working on a sex scene.”

“Is that so? Can I read it?”

My heart skips a beat, a rush of nerves filling me. “I… I guess so.”

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