Page 28 of Broken Dreams

This solo shit is for the birds.

The door opens as I lay there, the toy still inside of me because I’m too exhausted to find the button to deflate it and I’mfucking scared that when I remove it, I’ll begin the cycle of pain and suffering all over again.

The light switch in here slides up so it gradually brightens the room. My hair is in my face so I can’t see who it is. I’m not ready for the alphas, my hair isn’t done, and my makeup isn’t either. Instead, I came in here in the morning and never left.

Bret will have to deal with the fact that I’m a hot, needy, sobbing mess right now.

“Hey, little omega. It looks like we came just in time,” a deep, mellow voice says.

Whimpering, I push my hair away from my face as I hang upside down.

“Poor, sweet girl,” says another alpha. My nose is all fucked up from crying, along with whatever shit Bret injects into me every month, but I do know that the air is clearing with really yummy scents.

Unabashedly, I throw my arms out, eager for the relief the five alphas promise as they walk in.

“She’s already here,” Bret says as he follows them. “I was wondering where she’d gone.”

“It looks like she started early, didn’t you?” a dark haired alpha asks as he begins to undress.

His cock is thick enough to jut straight out once he pushes his pants down his hips, making my mouth water.

I want, give it to me.

I don’t know any of them, they’ll just be nameless alphas who fuck me, but to me they’ll be my heroes for the next four days.

“May as well get to work,” Bret says, amused as he leans against the wall in the shadows.

As long as he doesn’t speak again, I’ll forget he exists. It’s the best someone like me can ask for.

CALLUM

A beautiful, blonde omega that smells like lilacs and warm sugar is sprawled out on the mattress as I open the door and Duncan turns up the light switch slowly. It’s one that slides up to control how bright things get, which is perfect for a likely overstimulated omega in heat.

There’s a spray of slick on the dark satin sheets, and I can see the toy she’s been fucking herself with is still inside of her cunt. The poor darling got desperate in her time of need, and I do love a girl who can problem solve. It’s fucking sexy as hell.

The five of us slowly walk into the room, and the first thing I notice is how musty it is. My nose wrinkles in disgust, and I notice how Duncan’s hand fists as he sees there’s not a single soft blanket or pillow on the fucking mattress.

Nests apparently aren’t something given to the omegas at Slick Dreams. Goddamnit does that piss me off.

It’s taking everything in me to act normal as her scent wraps around me, because I want to scream that this omega is fucking mine. She’s my scent match, the perfect piece of my soul. It’s not simply biology.

Rather, I’d say she’s activating the coding hardwired inside of me to recognize her as mine. I don’t expect her to react to me at all, because I’m sure the rat bastard who is the owner of this club has a fail safe so his omegas can never find their scent match. It’s cruel and calculating, just like the impression he’s given me since I walked into the club for my “fuck appointment.”

Needing to say something, I purr, “Hey, little omega. It looks like we came just in time.”

I want her to know help is here, and the alphas surrounding me pick up my cue as they speak to her as they pull off their clothes as quickly as possible.

If things were different, I’d throw my things on the bed so our scents could mix together. Since this is transactional, it would be weird if I did that and possibly freak her out.

The omega pushes her blonde hair out of her face and I see the baby blue gaze I haven’t been able to get out of my mind in years.

Quinn, as I live and breathe.

I don’t expect her to recognize us in her current state, and there are teardrops sticking to her eyelashes. Bret said her name is Makayla as we were walking in earlier, and I’ll need to remember that. I don’t want to scare her by calling her a name she probably hasn’t heard in twenty years.

Duncan nudges my shoulder to remind me to get my head in the game, just as Makayla’s face contorts in pain. Whatever she did to give herself a small amount of relief before her next heat spike isn’t working anymore.

“Let’s get that out of you,” Duncan murmurs, crawling naked onto the bed. We covered our tattoos that have her name or the date of her disappearance with a heavy duty makeup so no one will see it.

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