Page 86 of Carmichael's Omega

"I'm fine," Darcy says, her voice clipped.

"Good," Rique responds with his voice just as cold.

I practically throw myself into the car. What did I just walk in the middle of?

I text Alize as I walk up the stairs to my room. It's empty, thank goodness. I don't want to have to explain to everyone that I'm crashing with Carm tonight.

"You look like you're sneaking out," Rique says wryly as I step into Miranda's car and hunch down, trying to stay invisible.

Looking at Rique, I smile sadly. "Not too many people on campus know about this, Rique. Adriana told me that no one in LoboGris knows about me but a few of you on campus. I guess it makes me paranoid, especially..." my voice trails off. Especially when Carmichael came in like an avenging dark angel, learned that Mattie is his mate, too, and then left for a whole week.

Rique starts Miranda's car and moves away from the sidewalk before answering. "LoboGris hates omegas." Ignoring my wince, he explains, "there's a reason for why Carm hides you from the pack, Luna. Give him time, OK? You... you're a good girl. Good for him."

I blush at his choice of words. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I blurt out quickly. He glances at me suspiciously. "Carm calls me a good girl," I confess, like an idiot omega.

Rique is still chuckling to himself when he pulls up to a non-descript biker bar half an hour later.

Um, a biker bar?

Miranda's sporty little car couldn't look more out of place, but Rique doesn't seem concerned at all. He's still smirking as we walk around the building instead of going through the front door. His chest is shaking as he opens a wooden door in the back that once was white, many, many years ago.

His laughter increases when Carm turns, as naked as a jaybird, a carton of milk in his hand.

"Conejita?" he says, his voice husky with need and longing that echoes my own. "My good girl," he murmurs. He walks to us, ignoring Rique's laughter as it booms out again.

I'm fire-engine red, drinking in the sight of my mate's naked, chiseled body. Unbelievable. He's steamy. Is that a thing? It should be. Maybe I'm steamy from looking at him. Dark, olive-toned skin over muscles and more muscles. A happy trail of dark hair runs down his abdomen to his awe-inspiring package. The swarthy skin makes his ice-blue eyes pop in the glimpse I take. It's a quick peek. I can't tear my eyes away from the sword pointed my way. I'm going to fall on that sword, harakiri style. I can't wait to fall on it.

He looks tired, exhausted even, but his erection hardens as he crosses the room, and gosh, he is sex personified.

My she-wolf eyes the swaying sack nestled in the dark hair between his legs and licks her chops. I'm not sure how to take that. Maybe she's more of a balls girl?

"You hungry,güey?" Rique asks Carmichael as he wanders into the kitchen. "I thought we'd get back before you."

I tear my eyes away from my mate to look around the bar's interior.

It's basic, outdated wood paneling and a green patterned linoleum floor, but cleaner than I expected. A dark grey couch sits against the wall opposite a large TV sitting on cement blocks. The coffee table is dark mahogany with elegantly carved legs that has seen better days. The small kitchenette opens to the living room.

"I was just thinking burgers," Carmichael murmurs to Rique as he crosses the room to me. He doesn't leave any space between us, moving so close that my shirt brushes against his bare chest and his erection presses into my thighs. "You hungry,Conejita?"

"A little," I admit breathlessly. The warmth pouring off of his body is tantalizing. His mouth lowers to mine, brushing gently.

"You wanna fuck her first while I grill?" another voice offers. The crude offer is like a splash of ice-cold water to the face.

I inhale in shock, pulling away to the sound of males cursing in fluent Spanish.

"Fuck! Sorry, Luna. I didn't know it was you! Not that Carm would be with- shit!" The third male, Holt, goes pale and quiet. Huh, Deanna was right naming him 'douchebag.'

It hurts. Does Carm have such casual sexual relationships that his friend would mention it as if I were just another chore?

"Watch your mouth,Cielo!" Carmichael spits at him.

"You gotta keep it chill, Holt. Fuck,güey," Rique snaps. Anger flashes in his eyes. His canines glint white. He's edgy, upset, and angry.

Holt looks down. I can sense his wolf, slumped in shame. "Sorry," he says again.

"It's OK," I blurt out. "I know... I mean, I've heard rumors and stuff," I tell them.

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