Page 5 of Heat Clinic

The water bottle creaks as I clench it too hard. “W-what?” My mind sputters while my body clenches with anticipation.

He goes into the bathroom and comes back with a bottle of yellow oil. “You’re nervous, so you’re tense. All of us are trained in massage therapy. I’ll rub your shoulders and help you get loosened up.”

“Oh.” I can’t tell if I’m more relieved or disappointed. The idea of stripping in front of him makes my stomach flip. But he’s going to see me naked soon anyway, once my heat has taken over all rationality. And my black bra isn’tthatdifferent from a swimsuit. Besides, he’s a professional. It’s me who’s having the inappropriate thoughts here.

“Umm… okay.” I screw the cap back on and put the water on the floor, then kick my flats off and get up on my knees and turn around on the bed. The cool room air is like a kiss to my heated skin as I peel myself out of my shirt and pull my long hair over one shoulder.

It’s just a massage. I’ve had massages before. And he’s a medical professional.

This is fine.

The sound of him opening the oil and slicking it between his palms is loud in the otherwise quiet room, and then Sam kicks his sneakers off and climbs onto the bed behind me as he positions his thick thighs on either side of me. He wastes no time spreading the oil along my back and shoulders, rubbing it in and moving his thumbs in circles.

Oh, fuck.The moan slips out of me before I can catch it. It’s a needy sound, not quite the whine that will come when I’m in my heat for real, but close. I squirm, my thighs rubbing against his as he digs into a knot and works it free. So close.

“That’s good,” he says, his fingers curling around my clavicle while he massages between my shoulder and neck. “Doesn’t this feel better?”

The press of his hands against my scent glands makes my clit throb and my cunt clench, the scent of my pheromones thickening the air as he expresses out some of my natural perfume. It’s a struggle to keep the moans in when he touches me like that.

“So tense,” he murmurs.

“Sorry. I kind of thought you’d be an older woman, not…” A guy. Young. Ridiculously hot.

“That would be Donna. She’s worked here since the clinic opened, and she’s about eighty years old, so she only takes emergency calls when a particularly flighty omega needs to be talked down off the ledge. She’s about five foot two and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“Oh. She sounds nice.” Like a grandmother figure.

“No.” He laughs, and the sound makes my whole body clench tight. “She’s an absolute terror. Donna used to chase the younger nurses around, barking commands at them and yelling at them to get back to work if she saw them sitting down for over two minutes, unless they were at lunch. And she still hand writes her reports in cursive. Inpencil.”

“What a monster,” I agree, smiling.

Despite what he’s saying, his voice is fond. It makes me wonder how long he’s worked with her, and if she bosses him around, too. I can picture him answering her annoyed snaps by flirting.

His right thumb works a knot free, and I bite my lip to contain the sound of absolute pleasure it elicits. I melt under his hands, my nipples so hard they tent the molded foam of my bra and my pussy so wet that it’s probably time to change my slick panties.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, his fingertips ghosting up the side of my neck in a move that makes the hairs on my arms stand up.

The bone-melting warmth of his praise makes my pussy flutter. I groan and rock back into his touch, my neck arching in natural submission as I give myself over to his hands. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not?”

My body has a mind of its own as my pelvis rocks back, trying to rub against him to see if I can stir his cock to attention. “Because you’re hot.” And it’s giving me the wrong idea. Terrible, naughty ideas that the omega side of me loves, but the woman is still scared of.

“Emily, I’m here to give you whatever you need. Not necessarily what you want. So if what youneedis permission to shed your shyness and insecurities so you can go milk a fat knot and get some relief from this heat, then that’s what we’re going to do. And if you need me to give you that permission, to tell you that you’re beautiful and I can’t wait to watch you part those pretty pink lips and cry out as you come for those alphas, then that’s what’s going to happen, and I can promise you I’ll enjoy every minute.”

“Fuck.” I shiver at the crassness of his words and the way they make me squirm as my body hunts for friction.

“Soon. Drink the rest of your water first.”

I stare at him over my shoulder and try to get a read on the situation. He stares back at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles with his easy, lopsided grin. Sam grabs my water bottle off the floor.

What a pushy, mouthy beta. “But you work here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “And my job is to make sure your needs are met. I read your intake paperwork. None of this violates your hard limits. Do you want me to stop?”

Yes. No.He should. I’m here to get knotted so my heat doesn’t end with another UTI and a mountain of laundry. A cocky beta is not what I came here for, no matter how tightly that scrub top clings to his thick arms. The veins on his forearms stick out in sharp relief and the sight of them makes me want to trace them with my tongue. His body hair is blond and thin, and when the light hits it just right, it turns golden. He’s not as large or muscular as an alpha is naturally, but his body shows he spends a good deal of time in the gym.

“Yes,” I say.

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