Page 66 of One Way Out

I don’t know when they became so bossy, but I’m okay. They’re just grating on my nerves.

“Open your mouth, let me take your temperature, then take a few sips of the bottle of water, and I’ll consider it,” Shaw counters.

I hear what he’s saying, and under normal circumstances, I could be convinced to comply. Only, everything hurts, and I don’t understand why. I’m uncomfortable, but taking action to fix it feels like way too much work when my brain is stuffed with cotton and my lower abdomen is crampy. I’m worn out, achy, and overstimulated all at once, and that makes for a crabby omega.

“Come on, princess. Open for me, please?” Shaw asks.

Instead of behaving, I twist my head to face away from him.

Leo’s skin is warm as I settle my other cheek back in the same spot, and even that manages to frustrate me. I just want to cool off and feel better, and I know they’re trying to help. It’s frustrating because I don’t know how to communicate what I need.

“I know you want more dick,” Shaw says. “And I’m happy to give it to you, but everything I’ve read says that we can’t let you go more than a few hours without drinking, and even with all the sex, we need to monitor your fever. Otherwise, we won’t know when things are serious to the point we need to find you a doctor.”

“I’m good,” I fib, and an awful knot appears in my gut at how concerned he sounds. “I’m fine, truly. I promise.”

“Listening to the two of you attempt to negotiate with her for the last half an hour has been bloody painful,” Omen says from somewhere behind me. “Allow me to assist.”

“Omen,” I groan, stretching out a hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping watch since Valor and Ridge left?” Leo asks.

The bed dips as Omen climbs onto the mattress.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere without much of an audience, if they do take action, but I have faith the facility would attack at night if they intended to. The darkness would offer protection. I’d say I’m needed here more than I am gazing out the windows.” His fingers wrap in my hair, and he tugs me up just a bit. I’m not vertical, but it puts me at a forty-five-degree angle with Leo’s chest. Omen brings his other hand to my cheek, teasing the backs of his fingers over my skin. “You’re boiling. All right, pet. You want my dick in your mouth?” I nod as much as I can with the way he grips my hair. “Perfect. Open those pretty lips and show me your tongue.”

He keeps hold of my hair but uses the other hand to shove his sweats down.

I have to fight against his grip to get a look at his cock. It’s not hard, but it seems like it could be a fun experience to get him there.

I’m so distracted by trying to stretch my tongue far enough to reach his crown—which, if I was thinking clearly, I’d know it’s a physical impossibility due to the distance—that I miss him snatching the thermometer out of Shaw’s hand.

He unceremoniously shoves it under my tongue from the side. “Keep it there, or you won’t like where I’ll put it next.”

I glare, and my eyes narrow.

I thought one of the things Valor was going to pick up was a thermometer, but I guess maybe they found one in the first aid kit. Thank goodness it has a cover on it.

“Be a compliant little omega, and I’ll give you what you want.” Omen reaches down, grabs my hand, guides it to his tip, and shows me how to jerk him. “Here, keep yourself busy while the device does its job.” It’s a solid distraction. His shaft is cool against my warm skin, which probably proves the point of why they need to check my temperature. “Stay focused, pet. Make my cock hard, so I can shove it down your throat.”

The thermometer beeps rapidly, and my eyes cross as I try to get a look at the screen. It’s bright red and flashing, which doesn’t seem like a great sign.

“Well, we tried, but this isn’t an omega thermometer,” Omen says, plucking it from my mouth. He clicks the button to shut it up and leans over, dropping it onto the nightstand. I almost lose my grip on his dick, but I stretch with him to keep hold of it. His shaft thickens with every uncoordinated jerk. “You smell well fucked, so what’s the problem, darling?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, and my eyes fall shut. His fingers massage my scalp, and it helps soothe my anxiety, but I don’t understand why the emotion sits heavy in my chest in the first place. “Everything is achy. I just don’t feel good.”

“What can we do to help?” Leo asks, running his hands over my hips.

“Yes, think on that while you swallow this for me,” Omen says softly.

My eyes pop open, and Omen guides the bottle of water to my lips. He uses his hold in my hair to tilt my head back, and I’m forced to drink or end up covered in cold water. It hits my tongue, and it’s not bad.

It’s refreshing.

Then again, I’m the person who has to remind myself to eat and drink regularly. I also tend to hold my pee until I’m about to explode because I don’t notice I need to go until it’s an emergency. It’s part of having ADHD, or at least that’s what I found in online support forums. My doctor looked at me like I had two heads when I mentioned it to her.

Maybe a cold shower wouldn’t be so awful, or even just a tepid one. Anything that would help get my fever down.

“I really hate you,” Shaw mutters. I frown until I realize he’s talking to Omen. “I’ve been arguing with her for the last half hour to get her to drink something.”

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