Page 40 of His Gentle Omega
Shay
“Well, aren’t you a tall drink of alpha water,” the omega purred, his sunglasses perched down on his nose, so that I had a clear view of his blue-gray eyes, rimmed with long black lashes. He fluttered those lashes and shot me a megawatt smile that made all my brain cells misfire.
Wiping my hands on the rag I pulled from my back pocket, I stared dumbfoundedly at the thin beauty. He was leaning casually against the front counter of my dad’s repair shop, looking like he’d just stepped out of an Abercrombie ad. If I walked through the Galleria mall, would I see him plastered next to the entrance to the store?
He looked like money, and glancing past him to the bright red Ford Mustang parked there, I knew it had to be his.
“Shay,” my dad glanced at me over his shoulder, pointing with his pen, “can you take a look at Mr. Clark’s car? He says it started smoking a few blocks away.”
“Oh, none of that Mr. stuff,” the omega giggled, waving his manicured hand at me, “call me Edward, please. Shay, is it? A lovely name for a lovely man.”
“He’s barely eighteen,” Dad growled, scowling. “Shay, the car.”
Tripping over my feet, I never moved so fast to get around the corner. His scent was delicate, sweet, flowery with a smoky hint. It took me a few seconds to place it. Lavender. He smelled like fresh lavender.
Popping the hood, he hovered behind me as I bent over to see if I could assess the car’s issue with a quick glance.
“I know nothing about cars.” His voice held a hint of laughter when he spoke, a little high-pitched and breathless. “I just put gas in it and expect it to go.”
Wiping off the oil dipstick, I glanced over at him, struck again by his beauty. He was probably a few years older than me, or maybe it was just the way he carried himself that made him seem older. Cool and confident.
“When’s the last time she had an oil change?” Sliding the dipstick back in, I double checked my findings. “Or had any oil put in her?” The car was basically running with no oil. He was lucky he hadn’t cracked the engine block.
He waved his hand in the air like he had done earlier, smiling that smile of his that was brighter than the sun. “I have no clue. We usually have people for that. But Daddy said I needed to be responsible for it, but I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.” He shrugged, not at all concerned. “It was a present from my father for my twenty-first birthday.” He pouted, the look on him somehow flirty and sexy at the same time. “I wanted a Porsche, but Papa said I wasn’t responsible enough.”
Definitely older than me. But since I had turned eighteen two weeks ago, I was an official adult. And three years wasn’t all that much in the scheme of things. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’ve done any damage, but I’ll need to pull her in a stall to make sure. And put oil in her.”
“Her?” He pouted more, jutting his full, pink bottom lip out, his tone sounding jealous.
Smiling, I explained to him, “Cars and boats are usually referred to as females.”
“Oh!” He straightened to his full height, which was still several inches shorter than me. “Like yachts! My friends are always calling their yachts ‘she’”
Shrugging, I just mumbled “Sure.” Of course, he would think yacht when I said boat.
Holding out my hand, I silently asked for his keys. He placed them in my hand slowly, running his finger across my palm before releasing them. A shiver ran the entire length of my body at his touch, and heat raced through me that had nothing to do with the mid-May sun.
“How about after you put oil in…her,” he leaned against the open hood, his pert ass resting on the edge, “you let me repay you. I’m on my way to a yacht party. A friend of a friend of a friend thing. You’d look hella pretty on my arm. We’d look so good walking in together. Everyone will be jealous of me.”
“It’s a school night,” I offered lamely, wanting to kick myself for sounding like a kid. And a nerdy one at that. Really Shay? It’s a school night? Lame.
He–Edward, he’d said his name was–leaned into me, one hand resting on my chest. His breath skimmed over my ear, warm and full of promises. “Don’t you ever break the rules, Shay? It’s fun to break the rules.”
He stepped back, his blue eyes dancing, and raised a dark brow at me in challenge. “Come to the party with me, Shay! It will be fun!”
“You don’t even know me.” From my peripheral vision, I saw my dad frowning at me, from where he was working on the computer at the front counter.
“But I want to get to know you, handsome,” Edward ran a finger over the material of my T-shirt, his blunt nail skimming over each of my nipples as he went. The small nubs instantly hardened, pushing against the cotton like it was a cold day in December.
No one had ever touched me like this, or so boldly. Sure, I had dated a little, but nothing had ever gone beyond a few innocent kisses. Nipple touching had definitely not been on the menu.
His scent was intoxicating, muddling my thoughts, and my dick chubbed in my jeans, like my nipples were hardwired straight to my cock.
“Come play with me, Shay,” Edward sing-songed. “Being bad feels really, really good.”
Edward had been right. Being bad with him had felt amazing. That night was full of many firsts for me.
First time lying to my dad. First time on a yacht. First time getting drunk and trying illegal drugs. First blow job and feeling an omega’s tight, slick ass wrapped around my cock. First time missing curfew and skipping school the next day.
