Page 33 of Heat Clinic

I feel bad that I missed so much of it, but heats are a lot of work and my eyes still feel bruised with the need to sleep. There’s a bone-deep exhaustion in me that says I still need more rest before this evening. Tonight will be the peak, my bouts of delirium longer and stronger. Still, he came all this way again to rut me through a heat spell and then I slept for most of it after.

“I’m sorry, alpha.”

He stands and my neck cranes to follow it, my knees knocking together a little.God, he’s tall.And broad-shouldered. Just… big. He walks toward me and cups my face in his large hands, his thumb brushing over my lower lip in a gentle caress.

“I’m not. And please, call me Marcus.”

Unless we’re fucking.

I blush as I finish the sentence for him in my head. I don’t remember all of our session, just bits and pieces of moments and feelings cobbled together like a collage, but that phrase is stuck in the back of my mind. Slick trickles down my inner thigh, and it’s a wonder that I have any moisture left to make it at this rate. Must be all the bottles of water that Sam forces down my throat every time I’m conscious and present.

“Marcus,” I whisper, giving him a tentative smile.

“Emily.” The way he says my name in that gravelly, deep voice makes my belly flutter. He leans all the way down and kisses me, our mouths melding together until he steals my breath away and makes my belly do somersaults.

I rise on my tiptoes to get more of it, my tongue pressing between his lips when it’s clear he won’t be the one to do it. His tongue invades my mouth, stroking me back. When I brush up against his sharp canine, I find it oddly textured. Smoother and blunter. Bite guards. My pelvis tightens, and the dribble of slick runs all the way down to the back of my knee, where it hits the crease and smears. He’s thoughtful and kind and sexy as sin and more amazing than I’d ever hoped for.

“I’m sorry, but I really have to take her. Protocol,” Sam says, interrupting us.

Marcus breaks the kiss, giving me one last brief peck on the lips as Sam bundles me into his side and wraps his arm around me and all but frogmarches me toward the door.

“I understand,” Marcus says. “I’ll see you later?”

I look over my shoulder at him and nod as Sam badges us out of the room and walks me down the hallway. I lean into his side and press my cheek to his shoulder.

“That went well,” he says.

My nose scrunches up as I remember a flash of something that I’m not quite certain really happened. “Did he blow you?”

Sam is so quiet that I glance up at him and see that his face is cherry red. I gasp, then grin. “He did! How was it?”

“It was… Fuck, there are vacuum cleaners that don’t suck as well as he does.”

I giggle at the mental picture he paints and ignore the slick that’s making a mess of my thighs. The blanket smells like the three of us as I hike it higher up my shoulders and press it to my nose. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

How awkward would it have been for Sam to watch Marcus fuck me for four hours straight and have to sit on his hands on the couch and watch? That Marcus let Sam not just join but also take part makes me happy for reasons I can’t describe. Some alphas are territorial and jealous, preferring monogamous pairings instead of packs. Others are possessive, but in a scary way.

We’re going to take care of you.

The thought makes me tingly, but a part of me still worries it’s too good to be true. That he’ll change his mind. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been on my own and struggling for so long, making ends meet while getting nowhere fast while my peers seem to pass me by.

What’s the worst that can happen, though?Maybe Sam and Marcus will both lose interest in me once my heat’s over. That happens a lot once an omega stops pumping out fuck-me pheromones. Then I’ll… go back to my life. Nothing will be different. My plain apartment with a mold problem in the tub no matter how much I scrub and bleach the caulk will still be there. The window of plants I have because I can’t afford to adopt a pet even though I’m so lonely it hurts sometimes will still be mine. My job that can replace me tomorrow will still expect me to show up on Tuesday. An app full of emotionally disconnected alphas who only want to rut and never want to stay will still happily match with me.

It’s fine.

I’m fine.

My eyes sting as tears fill them and I sniff, trying to pull them back, but they bubble over and fall before I can help it.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Sam asks, stopping us in the hall.

My lip wobbles as I use the edge of the blanket to wipe my cheeks dry, but the tears won’t stop. “I don’t know. I’m just… sad.”

He gathers me up for a hug and rubs his hands up and down my arms. “You needed more cuddles.”

“But I got almost four hours of cuddles!” It’s ridiculous.I’mbeing ridiculous. I hide my face in his chest and make wet spots with my tears on his scrub top.

He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me so tight it’s hard to breathe, but… it helps. The tears slow down and I sniff to clear the congestion in my face. “And you need more. Everyone reacts differently when they find their pack. There’s no right or wrong about it. Whatever you need is what you need.”

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