Page 24 of Heat Clinic

Sam fucks me until I shatter on the toy’s knot, satisfying all of my cravings and squashing that roaring need that burns me up from the inside out like a living furnace. When we’re done, he releases the air that inflates it, the silicone shrinking and the toy slipping out of me as my cunt flutters one last time, trying to milk the seed that isn’t there. Slick flows down my thighs and ass, soaking into the bed.

But when Sam pulls me down with him and wraps me in his arms, our legs tangled together, I find I don’t mind.

At some point, while I’m floating in my hazy, post-knot-drunk bliss after being fucked three more times, a nurse comes in and secures a cuff around my wrist that squeezes. She writes down notes while Sam presses a thermometer between my lips and kisses me on the nose when I pout.

The only thing that could make this better would be if he could purr. But I’m not heat delirious enough to ask and risk hurting his feelings. Betas can’t purr.

He presses something to my lips, and I take it without looking. A sweet coating quickly turns to the bitter taste of medicine. Sam holds a bottle of water to my mouth next, and I obey his commands to swallow. He makes me drain it all, the water cold in my stomach, but he touches me the entire time, so I do it gladly.

Sam buries us in our nest, and I press my nose to his neck, breathing in his oranges and cream scent while I purr my dainty omega purr for us both. His fingers trace swirls on my back while my eyelids grow heavy.

ChapterSeven

MARCUS

The waitress offersme a refill from the coffee pot she holds up, but I wave her off and stare at my mug. It’s lunchtime now, and an entire diner full of people has come and gone four times over since the first morning rush for breakfast began at five. I’ve been here since one, more than long enough to watch the shift change as an older beta with bleached hair and graying roots and red lipstick takes over the back corner booth I’m occupying.

“You gonna order, hun?” she asks as she hovers. “I recommend the burger and fries.”

The steak and eggs I let the night waitress talk me into have long since been left cold and congealing and taken away. “That sounds good, thanks.”

She purses her lips, her pencil-thin waxed brows knitting together, then nods and walks away to talk to the kitchen over the opening in the counter.

I know that I’m being ridiculous. That I’m acting like a teenager who’s gotten his first knot and thinks that makes him a man now. But how can I eat knowing that my omega is so close, in heat and hurting? Who will knot her? Purr for her? Some rough stranger who doesn’t deserve to touch her?

The handle snaps off the mug, and I stare at the broken ceramic.

A waitress carrying two plates of breakfast combos walks by and pauses, her eyes wide at the sight of the broken coffee mug.

“I’m sorry.” I brush the ceramic shards together as if that makes anything better. “Add that to my bill, please.”

She walks away, carrying her food to her customers, her brown ponytail bouncing.

Get a hold of yourself. You’re scaring everyone by sitting in this damn booth like a big, brooding bastard.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and my heart leaps into my throat, racing. Is this it? Is this her? The caller ID says it’s Tom. Disappointment fades to relief. I answer and press the phone to my ear. The chaos of a busy, crowded public space blasts into my ear, and then his silky British accent washes over me, soothing all of my sharp corners and making me feel less like a lunkhead about to rampage.

“Hello, darling,” he says. “They just announced boarding will start. I’m about to get on the plane.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Tom waits a beat, then speaks. “Are you okay? You’re very growly today.”

“They haven’t called yet,” I admit, feeling guilty that maybe I jumped the gun and should have been more patient, playing it by ear instead of disrupting everyone’s routine, including my own. “I’m sorry. You might miss your big showing for nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if you need me there,” Tom says, calm under pressure as always. “And I’ll have more showings. Alicia can charm the buyers better than me, anyway. I’ll probably sell morebecauseI’m not there.”

My lips twitch at his self-deprecation. If he was here, I’d slap him on the ass for saying such an unkind thing about himself. But he’s not here.Soon.“Your work is beautiful, and anyone who doesn’t see one of your photos and immediately fall in love with you is a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t make my head so big,” Tom says. He’s grinning, by the sound of his voice. “I have to fit it on this plane.”

“Be safe.” I hate airplanes. I loathe trusting an enormous, heavy metal contraption to stay up in the air.

“Planes fly every day. I’ll be fine.”

“I know. I just worry and I don’t like it when you’re gone for so long.”

“I know.” Tom sighs. “I have to go. They’re calling for final boarding. I love you and I’ll see you soon. Try not to scare her when she calls. You can be… intimidating when you hyper-focus.”

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