Page 9 of Heat Me

Damien suddenly giggled, the sound pleasant and melodious.

"I have inside me blood of kings, I have no rival, no man can be my equal…"I hummed, and Damien joined in,"Born to be kings, princes of the universe…"

We both chuckled.

"That’s correct! We will one day rule over them," he said, winking with a crooked smile.

I smirked back. "Yeah, there are more and more of us in every generation. The genes are cumulative. Aliens are coming!" I added with a matching wink.

For a few seconds, there was this pleasant, light energy between us, and I wished it would last longer. But suddenly Damien got serious again and frowned.

He looked at the mirror, which had become the place we both gazed when we wanted to change the subject. I almostphysically sensed a shift in his energy, becoming distant and kind of dejected again.

In the reflection, we made quite a contrast—me, tall and athletic, and him, shorter, soft, and a bit rounded. His unusual amaranth hair framed his face, giving his skin a pinkish hue, while my burgundy hair had a faint purple sheen in the light.

It was strangely pleasant just to be near him, even with him having this slightly unsure and bashful expression—the whole feeling of his body close to mine, the energy floating between us. I had this urge to reach out and stroke his shoulder, touch his curls, pull him close, kiss those amaranth freckles all over his sweet body, not just on his face. But I had to shake myself out of it.

"A real purple alpha," he whispered, as if he still wasn’t completely believing it. "So rare… I’ve only met a few in person, but never anyone close to my age."

"I’ve never met a rose omega… I mean, knowingly. And I’ve certainly never had sex with one."

Damien blinked in surprise. "You haven’t?"

"No. You’re my first rose omega."

He wrinkled his nose. "Hard to believe."

"Do you sense I’m lying?"

He blinked again and swallowed. The question was loaded. I could feel him—almost as if he were embedded deep in my cells. But could he feel me too? And what would it mean if he did?

Damien’s face shifted slightly—becoming uneasy, confused.

"I sense… you’re telling the truth."

"All I’ve ever told you was the truth. I’ve never lied to you, not even once."

"All those compliments… they weren’t scripted?"

"Nope. They’re what I feel," I whispered, taking a small step toward him.

Damien raised his head, and our eyes locked. Slowly, giving him time to react, I lifted my hand and gently brushed his cheek, tracing the edge of his rose birthmark. His skin felt like electricity, and we both shivered slightly. Damien closed his eyes, his lips parting as he let out a small breath. I was so close to leaning in to kiss him. But I knew better.

Before it became too awkward, I moved my hand away. It wouldn’t be smart to initiate anything without knowing what his decision was.

Damien’s face remained fairly calm, though slightly pink. But what really stopped me was that I could still feel his caution and hesitation—a kind of inner resistance. He slowly opened his eyes. I waited, giving him space to say something, but he stayed silent.

Finally, I just whispered, "Well, take care. If you decide, you’ve got my number. And if not, thanks anyway for… the best sex of my life."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he frowned and lowered his head, his energy changing even more, becoming more guarded, almost stern. I smiled ruefully and quickly left the bathroom, my heart pounding.

Well, I did it.

I reached out to him, gave both of us a chance to see if there was more here to explore than just amazing sex. Now the ball was in his court. I promised myself I wouldn’t try to see him again if he didn’t text me. I felt his tentativeness and unease all too well. For whatever reason, he didn’t agree to spend heat with me, and I could only guess why.

And the guessing process wasn’t a pleasant thing.

I just had the strong feeling I came to him… too late.

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