Page 14 of Waiting for Fate
I’m unable to resist the call of alpha instincts as I slide my zipper down and draw my length through my hand. Pre-cum beads at the tip, begging to paint a certain omega’s lips. Long, dragging pulls of my hand pair with swipes across the tip to wet my cock.
Slipping my eyes closed, I let fantasies run rampant in my thoughts. The warm, wet feel of Bea’s mouth as it wraps around my tip. Muffled gags as I push into her throat, letting her feel the swell of my knot as it presses against her lips and nose. Silky curls tangle around my fingers as I bury them in her hair, gripping tight enough to earn a whimper that vibrates around my length where it is buried inside of her mouth.
How pretty would she look with her makeup smeared down her face from the tears my rough thrusts would bring to her eyes?
My fist pumps faster, my pace growing frantic as I get lost in her stolen scent and the need growing inside of me. Picturing those sinful lips stretching obscenely as I force my knot into her mouth sends me over the edge. My head thumps against the door as I come, my release coating my hand and dripping onto the polished floor.
The sharp ring of my office line is a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. Using tissues to wipe the mess from my hand, I swipe the spots on the floor before tossing them into a nearby trash can. Crossing to my desk, I rip one of the bottom drawers open and shove Bea’s sweater inside. Collapsing into the chair, my head meets my hands where they rest on the edge of my desk.
What the fuck did I just do?
CHAPTER EIGHT
BEA POWELL ISa Fate-given gift I never saw coming. With sun-kissed skin, wide hips, and legs for days, there is no doubt she’s gorgeous. She caught my interest the second I walked into her apartment last weekend, but it is the glimpses of her personality that have won me over. She has fire in her soul and a sass that brings a smirk to my lips. Her self confidence is enough to make me harder than steel.
I follow behind her, mesmerized by her curvy ass swaying in those tight pink pants. She struts through the back hall of the venue, cataloging the location of each member of the band to make sure they are on task and ready to go. We’re weirdly in tune with each other, the pull between us strong enough I doubt I’d be able to stop myself from stumbling after her even if I wasn’t being paid to do so.
I’ve never listened to a lot of metal music. Some heavy rock here and there. The classics. I have to admit, I’m intrigued by Primordial Covenant. They’ve skyrocketed into a cult-like following over the past year, including the sold out tour our charges are currently working. A packed venue in Western Pennsylvania kicked off the string of shows, engulfing us in a level of chaos only found in the music world.
Caleb Michaels, the band’s lead singer, leans against the wall with a pair of earphones in. Curly bleach blonde hair falls across his face, obscuring his light green-gray eyes. Tattoos cover his arms and run up his throat, stopping just below his chin. The colorful, slightly macabre ink adds to his dark aesthetic, yet he gives her a boyish smile as she approaches him.
My instincts haven’t enjoyed this aspect of her work. Watching my unbonded omega approach a single alpha sparks a nearly undeniable urge to rip her away. Something I absolutely cannot do. Especially when Bea isn’t aware she’s mine yet.
Caleb answers her question about something related to their show and she spins on her heels to walk away. I smirk down at her when she bumps against my shoulder. Her pretty blue eyes roll as she slips by me, careful to not slide too much of her body against mine. A shame since I would love to have every curve flush against me.
A frown tilts her lips down as she studies the room. I was wondering how long it would take her to realize the band’s drummer was missing. He’s still here, but not in this room. Pointing to the back door, I silently direct her to where the younger alpha is currently pacing a line in the pavement.
His bright brown eyes fly up when he hears the door crack open, a shaky, apologetic smile stretching his lips. Sweat lines his brow beneath his black beanie.
“Lee, you good?” Bea asks, propping the door open with her hip. Standing in a vulnerable spot like this makes my fingers twitch. I’m ten seconds from dragging this kid back inside when he responds.
“It’s fucking packed in there,” he breathes, the words shaking from the weight of his nervousness. Based on the way Lee’s chest is heaving, he’s on the verge of a panic attack.
Bea’s face melts. The confident alpha persona she was wearing disappears as she lets him see her own bubbling anxiety, helping to ease him out of it.
Fates-damn, do I want to kiss the shit out of her.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she tells him as she guides him back inside. The area right inside the door is empty, so no one will witness him freaking out. “First, we’re going to relax. Start at your shoulders and work your way down. Visualize the muscles relaxing, one at a time.”
The shaking alpha listens, eyes closing as he follows her command. When his breathing evens out, she moves to the next step. Movement at the corner of my vision lets me know Brady has arrived and is watching her work.
“You’re doing great. Now we’re going to find something for you to focus on when you walk on stage. Don’t look out at the crowd until you’re at your kit. The lights will block your view of most of the fans, and once you start playing, they’ll fade into the background. Think we can do that?”
Bea’s voice is gentle, but still firm enough to leave no room for Lee to second guess her. I have to smother a smile when I catch the pride in Brady’s eyes. Yeah, boss man, my omega was born to do this.
Lee nods rapidly, following her as she leads him into the wings. She is careful to only open the side curtain far enough for him to see the other side of the stage. Scanning the immediate area, she notices the brightly colored band poster a few feet from the front. “There,” she says, pointing it out, her head turning to make sure he is focusing. “That’s your guideline.”
“Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
Perfect timing for this save, since the stage manager is calling Orbital Somatic to the stage.
“Thanks Bea, you’re awesome at this,” Lee professes as he goes to grab his sticks and join his bandmates.
She waves him off, still fully in manager mode until they step onto the stage. Her best friend, Omen, steps beside her. Their pinkies link in the sweetest gesture as they watch the lights shift and Caleb greets the crowd. Omen whispers something to Bea I can’t hear, earning a bright grin in response.
Bea’s eyes dart to where Lex stands slightly off to the side, lingering for a moment before she averts her gaze. Wherever her mind goes, she shudders. I instinctively step closer, close enough to feel the full heat of her body pressed against mine. Her shoulders relax for the briefest of moments before she remembers herself and snaps her spine straight. She shoots me a glare as she takes an exaggerated step away from me.
Orbital Somatic’s set goes off with only minor hiccups caused by their nerves. They’ll settle into playing for larger crowds after a stop or two. If not, working for a label as large as Soulbound may not be the right path for them.
