Page 73 of Altius
Thankfully, the alpha with the clearest head realized what was happening, stepped in almost immediately, and made sure she got the care she needed.
But one alpha kept pushing, egging the others on, his words too aggressive to be trusted.
What the fuck does an omega need lube for? Just keep going. I bet she’s really pretty when she cries. Don’t you know this bitch used to be famous?
Morgan and the other alphas filed reports with Harborview after the fact, ensuring the troublemaker was never invited back for another heat.
Of course, the asshole folded like a cheap deck chair when Harborview confronted him about the potential legal repercussions of ignoring an omega’s heat directives. He claimed what all spineless pieces of shit do when held to account for their own bad behavior—It was only a joke.
Yeah, one so fucking funny my girlfriend hadn’t felt safe to have a heat in three years.
My blip of good humor evaporated.
We had to make this heat a success. Not only to right the wrongs of the past, but to set a strong foundation for our future.
Together.
As a couple—and as what I hoped was a pack-in-the-making.
Owen noted the abrupt downward shift in my mood. After he finished highlighting a sentence about the importance of cheese cubes with a flick of his wrist, he turned toward me with a raised brow. “What?”
“Morgan’s a straight shooter,” I said. “And there’s very little she does without thorough consideration. She asked you to facilitate for two reasons. First, she trusts that you will upholdher stipulations and keep her safe. And secondly, she doesn’t think you’re attracted to her.”
He tapped his forefinger against the top of the binder, his brows pensive.
“But I’ve demonstrated my appreciation.” Another deliberate tap. “Multiple times.”
The third tap of his finger sealed the deal.
Owen was into Morgan, but he didn’t know how to connect with her. At least not yet. They’d only met a little over two months ago.
Alijah and I had a three-month head start. Wyatt had us all beat by a decade.
As for Joaquin? He’d just take the shortcut.
Deciding to give Owen a helpful nudge, I said, “You have to tell her with words. Or demonstrate it in a way she can understand. Otherwise, she’ll only view all those research papers as professional favors, not foreplay.”
“Ah. I see.” His eyes flashed with inspiration. “Foreplay.”
I didn’t bother to correct whatever misguided notion had begun to percolate in his unfathomable brain. Owen had to work things out with Morgan on his own.
He set the binder on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees, steepled fingers pressed to his lips. I had a sudden premonition that Owen was going to give Joaquin a run for his money when it came to determination and shamelessness.
His gaze speared the side of my face with all the subtlety of a javelin. “Which method yields optimal results—clitoral or vaginal stimulation?”
Pushing off my better knee, I clapped him on the shoulder and went to grab a fresh beer from the fridge.
It was going to be a long night.
***
“I’m going out of town for a week. Taking a ski trip to Vermont with Owen and some other friends,” I lied to my grandfather, cradling his papery hand in mine. The strong hands that used to toss me in the air as a child were now too thin and frail. “So, I won’t see you until next Friday, okay? But I’ll have my phone and call when I can.”
The once invincible Charles Verray Carling couldn’t hear me. His jaw shifted aimlessly, watery eyes fixed on the sunbeams flickering across the embossed wallpaper of our family’s VIP suite. It was more like a high-rise apartment, with a full kitchen, extra bedrooms, and multiple bathrooms. There was even a small office with Verray equipment installed.
Morgan would hate it. Anything to do with inpatient care raised her hackles.
While the irony of a physician having an aversion to hospitals wasn’t lost on me, I couldn’t blame her.
