Page 15 of Crash Course Omega
I run my hand over the corner of the chassis, making sure the seam is smooth and intact, and she simply still stands there, staring at me.
“Can I help you?” I ask more shortly than I would have liked.
I don’t want to look at her, especially because of the way the rain clings to her sports bra. I already can’t handle the scents pouring off of her, but if I look at the light bumps of her nipples under the padding, I’ll have to leave the garage.
I told myself before I wouldn't give in to her if I ever saw her again. She had everything laid out before her when she was leading the F2 championship, and she gave it all up.
I wanted to be part of F1 ever since I was a child, and I can’t understand why she would abandon it when she was at the height of her career.
I know it’s incredibly petty to resent her for leaving when she has no idea who I am, but I worked hard to make it to the Grace team to be with her, and she left a month before I was hired. Even standing near her is enough to bring up all that longing and desire and deep need for my omega to see me. And to wipe away those years of wondering if she didn't care about me at all.
But maybe my feelings are obvious. Because my body pumps out pheromones and my blood runs hot at how close she is.
I had no interest in sex until I met her, and even then, it was a passing curiosity.
But her closeness, her touch, herscent. It's driving me absolutely crazy, and I need to hold myself back or I’m going to do something I regret.
Like using the wrong bolt on the suspension and ruin the entire race for Maddock.
Or worse. I don’t want to have to wipe down the chassis because I acted on my urges by pressing her against my favorite car and making use of my arousal.
I quickly glance at her, trying to hold back my smile at the fact she's finally looking at me. I’m not just a face in the crowd anymore. She’s right here with me, taking deep breaths, trembling, showing me she can feel it, too.
Harmony wraps her arms around herself and keeps staring at me with wide eyes.
I really don’t want to step away from the car. If I don’t stay with the car until Maddock arrives, something might go wrong again. I take pride in the fact that he consistently comes in second place in every race. The only reason he came in third last week was because I had to stop during a check to deal with a late delivery.
But she's just been chased down by two reporters. Plus, she’s an omega that needs comforting.
So I regretfully remove my hand from the car, and walk to the station behind her.
We have a stack of towels for the drivers when they get off the track and need to mop up the sweat.
“How do you like it?” I say, tapping the coffee machine as I hand her a towel.
“What?” she asks, jumping like she’d forgotten I was here.
She blinks slowly, and I deny the urge to brush the strands of bright ginger hair that have fallen from her bun and obstructed her eyes.
“Coffee. We have a machine. Do you want a drink?”
She nods numbly, and I quickly turn around so I don’t have to watch her dab the line of her breasts with the towel.
I wish there was a tablet that could block my sense of smell as well as my rut. Because my head is spinning as more of her gorgeous scent pours from her.
As the coffee machine works its magic, I pluck my jacket from the chair next to the station. I’d only worn it on the drive to the garage, but my alpha senses are telling me to cover her in my scent in case more reporters come after her.
But I haven't thought it through.
Because when I hand her the jacket while holding the coffee, she puts the towel between her legs, opening up her thighs. And I can’t tear my eyes away from her lycra shorts that cling to her curves. When she swings open her arms, her breasts rise as she slips the jacket over them, and the tops of the Vs of her hips stretch above the short’s waistline.
I nearly crush the cardboard cup in my hand.
I’m not used to feeling like this. I’m not even sure how to approach it. I accepted a long time ago that every time I saw Harmony Grace’s picture, I would feel attracted to her, but that was manageable.
I didn't have to watch her as she lifted the collar of my jacket to her nose and take a deep inhale.
Her eyes widen, and her gaze flies to mine. I’m very sure she is testing to see if I can tell we’ve matched as well.
