Page 2 of His Innocent Omega
Jamie was on a mission to get me laid. He was convinced half the reason I was out of sorts was because I needed to get my rocks off. Since I refused to play in his club, he had been sending me random hookup apps to try out for months.
Me:Yeah.
Jamie:And????
Me:Do we need to have another talk about your overuse of ??? One is sufficient.
Jamie:Don’t change the subject. That app is perfect for you.
Me:How would you even know that?
Jamie:I know things. You need to get laid, and for whatever reason you don’t want to play in my beautiful club. Whatevs. It’s fine. I don’t really want to watch you get your kink on anyway.
Me:I made a profile. Once I determined their cyber security was top-notch and they actually do a decent vetting job of users. But that’s all I’ve done so far.
Jamie:Just do it, for fucks sake! It’s your last night in Dallas, Becks. What’s the harm? Blow your load, spank some submissive omegas ass, tie them up,have them shine your shoes–whatever your kink is–and we’ll all be happier when you get back. You’re a fucking cranky ass lately. And no one wants to vote for a cranky looking sheriff.
Me:Who the fuck said I was taking you up on your crazy idea of running for sheriff? BTW, if I do decide to run, you ARE NOT my campaign manager.
Jamie:You know you’re going to run. We all know you’re going to run. So, get laid, get happy, and come home and do something besides wait for the next Sinclair family drama.
Me:Your family drama is turning me gray.
Jamie:Yeah, we tend to do that. Just look at Brendan, he’s grayer than you are. You know what you need, Becks?
Me:A new best friend?
Jamie:*laughing emoji* Don’t be silly. We all know I’m the bestest friend that ever friended. No, what you need to do is find yourself a mate. Settle down and have a pup or two.
Me:That sounds like nothing I want involved in. Let’s go back to me getting laid. That is a much better plan.
Jamie:That’s what the app is for. You can tell me all about it when you get back into town.
Me:Yeah, not doing that either.
Though my finger did hover over the Taboo icon. Taboo was specifically designed for anonymous kink hookups. You listed your preferences and other specifics, and it matched you with kink minded people located near you. No names were to be exchanged or other personal information given out.
There was heavy vetting that was done before any applications were approved and live on the app. There was always a risk with any web or dating site, but I wasn’t worried. When Jamie had sent me the link, I’d promptly hacked right past their security, doing my own version of vetting. They were pretty thorough, and their security was top notch. It had taken me about twenty minutes to get in, which was twice the normal time it would have taken me on most other apps out there.
Idly, I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. Jamie was right, I got cranky when I needed to get laid. And it had been a long damn time since I had a scene with anyone. I could use some playtime. My wolf could use some playtime too. He was restless lately, unsettled and agitated, even after a shift and a run, or a workout session.
Logging into the app, I sipped my very expensive bourbon while the site ran through possible matches once it pinged my location.
Ten minutes later, I was scrolling through the possibilities, abruptly stopping my inattentive scrolling when one omega caught my eye. My wolf took notice too, whining in my ear.
There was nothing particularly special about the snapshot of the young omega on the profile. I couldn’t even see his face fully, but there wassomethingthat caught my attention and drew me to him. His head was down, like he was too shy to show himself on camera, and all I could see was a riot of light caramel-colored waves of hair.
Bed head. Or sex head after hands had fisted and tugged on it. The length of his hair shadowing his face suggested it would probably hit the tops of his shoulders when he looked you in the eye. He was shirtless, showing off inches and inches of pale skin on a rather long torso. He was on the thin side, built like most omegas with lithe muscles, but I could tell he didn’t hang out at any gym or do much manual labor.
My mouth watered, staring at the expanse of his pale creamy skin on display, his pretty pink nipples standing at full attention in the photo. Was it cold in the room where he’d taken the picture? Or was he turned on? Had he played with his nipples to make them stand out to show them off? That mental image alone had my cock swelling at a rapid pace.
He was wearing a silver necklace around his neck, with a small round medallion of some sort. It hung perfectly between those pink buds, dissecting his chest. There was the barest smattering of darker chest hair that trailed down his stomach between his taut abdomen, and disappeared into the charcoal gray slacks he wore. My gut tightened at the sight of him, my dick tenting inside my sleep pants at full attention.
I licked my lips. I wanted him. I didn’t know what it was about him, but I wanted him. I wanted to bury my hands in that mess of hair of his. I wanted to paint his stomach with my cum. I wanted to lick those nipples that were begging for my tongue. I wanted to see him on his knees in front of me, submitting so beautifully it made me ache.
My wolf howled.
I clicked his profile, my hard lips quirking at his screen name.187. What did it stand for? Was it just a random number? Maybe I’d ask him.
