Page 67 of Waiting for Fate
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“Could you do me a favor and make sure Spencer gets home safely? I fear I’ve come down with something.”
He eyes me for a moment before nodding sharply. Spencer chooses that moment to return, a proud grin on his face. “That felt incredible!” We both congratulate him, but he frowns when he looks at me. “No offense, Mr. A, but you look like shit.”
A weak laugh slips from my lips and I nod. “I feel like shit, Spence. Are you comfortable with Micah driving you home tonight?”
“Yeah, of course! Go get some rest!”
I slip my wallet out and drop money onto the table, making sure they know to order whatever late night snacks they desire. “I’ll see you next week, Spence.”
“Feel better Mr. A!”
With a wave, I head to my car. The drive back to Starburgh is hell. There are several points I have to pull over and wait for waves of pain to fade. Perhaps I should go to the emergency room instead of going back to my apartment.
The thought of sitting in a packed waiting room for several hours makes the decision easy. I will suffer at home and hope whatever illness I’ve contracted fades quickly.
Security at my apartment building eyes me skeptically as I nearly collapse into the elevator. I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s overwhelming, making me feel delirious from the sharp stabs above my groin.
My keys jingle as I swing the apartment door open and step inside. I’m nearly knocked to my ass as the sweetest, richest scent of tropical liquor invades my senses. Sweet Fates, she smells like heaven.
I barely have the forethought to remove my keys from the door and lock it behind me before I am stumbling toward the guest room. It’s closed, but the wood does little to block the flare of pheromones trying to drive me to her side. Sabine is in my apartment, and she’s in heat. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Scrambling for my phone, I frantically dial my brother’s number. He has an omega. He can tell me what to do. The line goes straight to voicemail. I curse, slapping my palm against the door as another wave of pain spikes through my body.
Oh shit. This is-
No. It can’t be. But what else could explain the sudden bursts of pain?
Do I truly share a Fated connection with Miss Powell? She had mentioned her connection was shared pain after returning from the last tour stop in Los Angeles several weeks ago. Is this her pain reflected in my body?
A muffled cry has my spine snapping straight. My hand is on the doorknob before I can process the thought. I brace myself to be inundated with fresh doses of her scent, but it does little to stop my instincts from pushing to the surface.
I stalk into the room and spot her phone on the bedside table. Perhaps she has the heat seeker app and I can- A voice in my mind reminds me of the current threats to her safety. The entire reason she is staying with me. I can’t risk signing her up for a heat helper when there isn’t time to run a proper background check against them.
Fucking hell.
I’m doing this aren’t I? Tempting Fate by helping Sabine through her heat.
As another crushing wave of pain knocks me against the wall, I shake off any remaining hesitation. The least I can do is step in to ease her pain. Whatever happens between us here doesn’t have to mean anything more.
Turning, I find Bea curled up in the small walk in closet. Frowning, I consider how we can both fit inside of the tiny space. Simply put- we can’t. When her teary, hazy eyes find mine, I know we will have to make due until she is clear-headed enough to move to my closet.
“Sweet Omega, you smell like the most sinful beachside vacation. I’m tempted to dive between your thighs and never surface.”
A moan slips from her plush lips before she nods quickly, bouncing her messy curls. “It hurts,” she whines as I unbutton my shirt and slip it down my arms. I move quickly, not wanting to continue denying her but knowing skin-to-skin contact will help soothe her instincts.
Dropping to my knees, I shuffle through her blanket pile to reach her naked form. Golden skin, wide hips, and long legs. Her body was made to mold to mine. Entwining like two halves of an ancient relic scattered across time, and reunited by the bond shared between our souls.
I trail a finger up the outside of her calf, using my other hand to pull her to me. She shivers, gooseflesh rising from my light touch. The scent of her slick draws a groan from my chest. Dropping to my stomach, I bury my face against her thigh and savor the smell of honey covered pineapple and coconut. I haven’t tasted her, and yet I know one lick would bring me to the peak of ecstasy.
“Alpha,” she whines, curling upward as another wave of cramps pinch her abdomen. Easing two fingers up, I push inside of her slowly, testing to see how easily she stretches around them. Her body squirms against the blankets, trying to work herself toward release. This first orgasm will come freely, but the next she will earn.
Using my weight to pin her hips to the floor, I fuck my fingers into her with relentless precision. Curling to brush against every pleasure spot within reach. Sabine moans and whimpers, thrashing beneath me as I push her toward release. When she explodes, a scream tearing from her throat and her body convulsing, I don’t back down. I need her coherent enough to consent to what comes next, not treading the waves of heat overtaking her body.
One orgasm turns into three before she collapses against her blankets, chest heaving and body temporarily sated. Hypnotic blue eyes blink open, growing wide when she sees me straddling her knees, fingers still buried knuckle deep inside of her.
“Miss Powell, we have urgent business to discuss.”
