Page 16 of Outback Mate
The room is awash with the scent, so heady I can taste it in the air. I swear the rain-dampened clothes clinging to her dewy skin is making the peaches smell even better.
She’s staring at me in a daze, and when I meet her eyes, the air thickens with the sweet aroma of her slick.
I shudder and drop my gaze, gritting my teeth against my body’s visceral response. I have to get her out of those wet clothes or I’m going to do something really stupid.
“There we go. Good as new,” I declare as I tie off the last stitch and trim the loose ends of thread. I cover it with a plaster, careful to keep her pretty blonde hair from snagging in the adhesive.
“Thanks, Doc,” she says breathlessly, and the puff of air fanning across my face tests my control.
She leans forward slightly and inhales, humming with satisfaction, her little pink tongue darting out to lick her lips.
She knows.
She’s becoming more lucid and aware of her surroundings.
More aware of me.
I was hoping to get her to Ida before she regained her senses so she’d never know she’s my scent match.
Fate isn’t that fair. She’s a cruel bitch.
I glance back at her as I make myself busy with cleaning up my suture kit.
I can’t get to know her. It’ll make walking away that much harder.
And I have to stay away. For her. She’ll never be happy with someone as cold and emotionless as me. I can’t give an Omega the life and the happiness someone so precious deserves.
She’s so young. I hadn’t really noticed before, preoccupied with her injuries and scent, but she’s at least fifteen years myjunior. It’s not unusual for Alpha, Omega scent-matched couples to have age gaps or cultural differences. Biology chooses the match, not the person.
And that’s the crux of the issue. She didn’t choose this.
She didn’t choose me or my lifestyle. I won’t condemn this perfect creature to a life of isolation with me. She’s young and has plenty of time to find her Alpha. I have no idea what she’s doing looking for a mate all the way out here. Surely this Omega must have years left on her aura sickness ticking clock.
Ida’s little matchmaking service attracts only the desperate. Those so viciously afflicted by their aura sickness, they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel in hopes of a cure. Something has driven her out here, and I’m struck by a wave of concern.
I clench my fists. I need her to leave as soon as possible, because I won’t be able to let her go if she stays.
My Alpha won’t allow me. It’s like he’s awoken from his slumber and it’s only a matter of time before he breaks free from my aura sickness prison.
But I can’t leave. My medical oath won’t let me. She’s injured and concussed, requiring IV fluids and constant supervision. I don’t like it, but the best place for her is here in my clinic with me.
I snap off my latex gloves with more force than necessary. The crack echoes off the wooden walls.
“Let’s get you into some dry clothes, Omega. Then some fluids and rest.”
“Oh, already getting me out of my clothes, Alpha?” she giggles and, without warning, pulls her shirt up and over her head.
I grunt at the sight of her breasts spilling out from the top of her pink, lacy bra.
Bloody fucking hell!
My cock stiffens, straining against my wet jeans. Her eyes dip down and her grin broadens, pride etched on the uptick of herpink lips. I can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like stretched over my cock.
I shake my head, both at her and at my errant thoughts.
I chant a mantra in my head.
She’s a patient. She’s not in her right mind. She can’t consent.
