Page 63 of One Wild Omega

When it was apparent he wasn’t getting any sleep that night, he grabbed his laptop and sat up a little and searched for porn. A good orgasm always helped him sleep. After scrolling through a few videos, he saw one where the beta looked a little bit like Tanner.

Long pink hair, shaved on the sides. Glittering rings through his ears. Tight little body.

His dick got hard as stone at the thought of Tanner naked and on his knees. Fitz knew no video would do as well as his imagination. He closed the laptop, licked his hand, and reached under his sheet for his hard shaft.

Starting with memories of that handjob he’d gotten, he caressed his cock. Remembering the way Tanner had looked between him and his dick only made him harder. Tanner had wanted more. He’d wanted to yield—Fitz had seen it in his eyes. The parted lips… that sweet little tongue. Tanner had been lost to the desire building between them… only Fitz had been too hungover and too stupid to see it.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, playing the fantasy of what could’ve come next. Tanner down on his knees… sucking Fitz off. Or the omega sitting on that counter with his legs dangling over Fitz’s shoulders. Tanner bouncing on his cock above. Tanner pushing back against him, eager for more cock.

Fitz licked his hand again, trying not to rub himself raw. The images got him hard… super hard… but he was struggling to find release. After another few minutes, he reached for some lube and a toy he had in his nightstand. He replayed the fantasies again and again, coming so close to coming.

Yet he remained on edge… unable to come.

When his arm grew tired, he dropped it to his side and glanced at the clock again… with 3:45 looking back at him.

Fuck.

He cleaned himself off and put his toy away before rolling to his side and trying to sleep. More images of Tanner came to mind, but these weren’t sexual. It was all the insults and snark he’d tossed at the omega over the years. All of the little winces and angry glares he’d gotten in return—well, before Tanner had blasted him right back with insults of his own.

For three years, he’d wondered what the hell it was about Tanner that set him off. The article had seemed to solve the mystery… but Tanner swore it wasn’t the case. The look on Tanner’s face when Fitz had asked him about that night… the green-haired omega. Fitz had been sure they were one in the same. It all fit, like pieces in a puzzle.

Yet something was out of place.

There’s no way I’m wrong about this. He lied to me.

Fitz got out of bed. He didn’t give a shit if it was four in the morning… he was knocking on Tanner McCreary’s front door and demanding the truth.

* * * *

Later that night…

Tanner stumbled to the door, half asleep and half naked. Someone was pounding on the front door at an ungodly hour. He looked through the peephole before whipping the door open. A grim-faced Quinn stood staring at him.

His brother reached in and grabbed him in a fierce hug. “Oh, thank the gods! You’re here.”

He pushed Quinn away. Rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes, Tanner felt a sense of panic hit. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come with me.Now.”

“Why? What happened?”

Quinn sighed. “Put on some pants and come with me. It’s an emergency.”

“Is it Bellamy? Carter? Oh, gods, please tell me it’s not Carter?”

“They’re fine. I justneedyou to come with me,” Quinn said, his voice even and low compared to the rising tone of Tanner’s.

“Fuck, Quinn!Just tell me.”

Quinn sighed again. “There’s something going on at the studio. You need to come with me.”

“What is it?”

“Godsdamnit Tanner! Just put on some fucking pants. We could be halfway there by now!”

Tanner glared at Quinn a second, but silently spun and threw on a pair of pajama pants and a pair of flip-flops. He dragged a t-shirt on as he raced back to the door. By that point, his adrenaline had fully kicked in and his blood was pounding in his ears. Without another word, he locked up and followed Quinn down to a waiting car.

Once inside and screeching through the city in Quinn’s little red sportscar, he looked at his brother. “What’s wrong with the studio?”

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