Page 241 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus
Ben is a manwhore, meaning I should have learned my lesson with them in general. I know better than to get my hopes up with someone who doesn’t understand the word commitment. Especially since I really like Carver’s friends, and if by some miracle I end up in a pack with them, I’d have to see him regularly.
It’s not a good idea.
“I need you to wake up,” Carver murmurs, brushing his lips over my forehead. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll keep annoying you until you do.”
I startle awake, completely unsure what’s happening or where I am.
Carver and I are lying chest to chest on the open cushion nest. He’s palming the back of my head, and I know I’m hotter than I was when I fell asleep.
“You’re sweaty and you were writhing around. I need to take your temperature,” Carver says, waving the thermometer in my face.
“I’m not hot enough for it to be dangerous,” I snap, slapping at his hand.
“Oh, yeah? Are you hiding a thermometer somewhere that I don’t know about?” He bites his lip, wiggling his eyebrows. He slides his hand down my back and over my ass until it rests on my thigh. “I’m not sure if the fabric is making it feel like you’re hotter than you are.” He tenderly rubs my skin and it makes me shiver. “Nah, sweetheart. Your fever is up. The guys are still dealing with the elevator emergency. You didn’t even sleep for forty-five minutes.”
“No, but I’m not a teenager. I’ve braved full-blown heats before when my ex couldn’t get time off at the ranch,” I say, trying to roll up into a ball.
“What?” He blocks my knees as his jaw falls open. “Heat leave is guaranteed. It’s a law.”
“Yeah, for omegas and theirbondedalphas, which obviously we were not. Also he works for his family, so it’s not like they paid attention to all that stuff.” I try to hold back the whimper, but it escapes anyway.
Some of those memories are a little traumatic. There were times when I was younger that I honestly thought the pain would kill me, but omegas are resilient.
I can do this. I just have to focus on the fact it won’t last forever and accept the agony. Sometimes during a heat there’s no other option outside of hurting.
I don’t get why people think it’s so glamorous to be an omega. It’s really not.
“That’s fucking bullshit,” he says. “Sorry, it’s not like I’m telling you anything you don’t know. Family or not, I’d tell them to fuck right off if I were an alpha and my omega needed me.” He seems so sincere it makes my heart ache. “He left you in pain, even knowing it’s a real possibility it could put you in the hospital?”
I sigh. I really don’t want to talk about that. “You can take my temperature if it’ll make you feel better.”
He rolls me onto my back and ends up leaning over the top half of my body. I know I’ve had some intimate moments with the guys the last few days, but I was pretty hazy for most of that.
His touch is gentle as he cups my cheek, brushing his thumb over my lip.
“Tongue up,” he says and he’s already got a new cover on the thermometer. He must have handled that before he woke me. He might be a bit of a player, but he’s not bad at taking care of someone. Or maybe I’ve just made assumptions based on what he said about flirting with the receptionist the night he brought me to the gym.
“I’m going to guess,” I say around the thermometer. “106.5.”
He frowns. “That was really specific.”
It beeps. He grabs the clipboard and removes the thermometer.
“106.9, you weren’t far off.” He writes down the temperature, tosses the board aside with the thermometer on top of it, then lies down next to me.
“I told you. I’m a pro at this.” I grimace, rolling toward him. I pull my knees up to my chest since I know it usually helps.
“Tell me how I can help,” he says, his eyebrows drawing together. “Do you normally watch TV? Not that we can do that now, but my phone is charged. Nesting is kind of boring withoutthe dirty sex and pheromones. I mean I’ve never been around an omega in heat, but now that you’re just lying here...”
“Back home if I were this coherent, I’d probably be working.”
“What do you do? All omegas in heat are supposed to stay home. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve met an omega with a job before.”
“I’m a writer,” I mumble in a small voice. I hate the snide comments that come my way whenever I admit that.
His eyes widen. “No shit?”
“Nope, not joking,” I say, but it sounds more like a groan.
