Page 135 of Fallen Omega

Liz is…

Liz. Shit. She’s the other reason I’m going upstairs.

Less fucking temptation.

I’m halfway down the hall when voices from the club’s floor make my step falter.

Dante. And Reaper?

I push into the room, setting the bottle down on the end of the bar as I go behind it, shooting Dante a filthy look as I do. Smoke hangs in the air as Reaper stubs out his cigarette, his crumpled pack on the bar.

I look at it, and then at him, then I walk along the bar, searching for hard liquor, something I’m in the mood for.

If Reaper lights up again, something’s going on.

He talks more when he’s got things to say. And he smokes more when things sit in him. Since he’s not one for inner contemplation that I can see, I’m betting something’s going on.

“Make it rum.” Reaper fixes me with hisstare.

I bow and pour us both a drink.

After setting his down, I lean on the back bar and gulp mine, refill it, then cross my arms, glaring at fucking Dante who is sprawled in the nearest booth.

There’s a bottle of whiskey on the table, and one foot’s on the long seat, his back against where it curves into the wall. He’s got on a T-shirt—black, of course—and jeans, very casual wear for him, and I focus on the tattoo that spills down his exposed arm. Because I’m not ready to look the fucker in the eye.

If I do, one of us might end up dead, and I’ve got an uncomfortable feeling that might be me. Fucker fights way dirtier than I do.

“It’s cute,” he says, in that goading way he has when it’s just us and he’s pissed off. At least I’m not alone in the sentiment.

“What is?” I take a sip of the rum, only now remembering it’s not really my drink. It’s Reaper’s. Then again, it’ll do. What the fuck ever.

Dante’s eyes narrow, and it’s a sleazy, mean smile he wears. “You all sweet on your first nibble of an omega?”

Reaper turns, blowing out smoke and I can almost hear him say,what the actual fuck is this?

“Asshole,” I say. “Nibble? You say that like it’s a thing.”

“It is.” Dante’s look is savage. “It got us in this mess, Knight.”

I throw back the rest of the drink and pour another. Reaper’s gaze is now back on me. “I bit her, but that’s it.”

“And all the rest.” Dante’s dark blue eyes sear into me as he picks up the bottle and takes a slug.

“All the…” I stop, shake my head and I surge forward, hitting the bar with my fist as Reaper picks up his glass as if we’re having some kind of fucking afternoon tea. “Dude, she’s fucking irresistible. And you?—”

“Careful.”

“No, you prick,” I say, adrenaline shooting through me, making the world vibrate a moment as my temper comes apart at the seams, ready to explode everywhere. It’s a wild experience. I don’t tend to explode. I let it out, bit by bit. But fuck.

This damn guy.

I suck in a breath, slosh some more rum in my half full glass and though Reaper’s barely touched his, he stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray and grabs the bottle, moving it out of my way. Smoke curls out from his nostrils like he’s a fucking dragon.

I look past him to Dante who’s doing an impression of the world’s biggest asshole with a sore paw.

I’m mixing metaphors, I think. But I don’t care. I’m not in the mood.

I should be downstairs, introducing Liz to the sublime side of sex, taking her virginity, worshiping her, getting our rocks off. I should definitely be there and not here with these two ugly dicks.

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