Page 18 of Wicked Truths

That’s life as an omega. It’s a constant battle between my wants and my instincts.

“Let’s go see if we can’t find ourselves a guitarist,” he says, grinning against my cheek. “I really hope they can smell me all over you.” He smirks. “That way they’ll know who your pussy belongs to.”

I frown over my shoulder at him. But the weirdo nuzzles his cheek to mine and my stupid heart races at the contact. Dammit, I should know better, but it makes me grin like a total goofball.

* * *

“He’s killing it,” I murmur to Sulli. We’ve been through a handful of auditions, but the one now is absolutely rocking the hell out of the old Madness song.

“He’s all right,” Sullivan says, close to my ear. His warm breath fans over my neck as he speaks.

I cross my legs, leaning into the other arm of the chair I’m sitting in to put some space between us.

I don’t know what his problem is because Liam is shredding the song. He’s got crazy talent. He’s also capable of playing rhythm or lead guitar, which is huge.

Marcus comes over, tossing himself into the chair on my right side. He leans forward, resting his tattooed forearms on his thighs, and he smirks as his eyes cut to the side.

I’m still covered in his salty scent, and he knows it.

“He’s exactly what we’re looking for,” he says, playing with his tongue piercing. “Are we all getting a vote or does the princess get the final choice?”

“Fuck you,” I whisper-hiss.

Marcus smirks at Sullivan over my shoulder. “Any-fucking-time you’d like.”

“He’s so damn disrespectful,” Sullivan says from my left side. “I don’t know why you even put up with him.”

My eyes are still glued to Marcus. He raises a black-painted nail and flips Sulli off. His eyebrow raises like he’s just waiting for the chance to out our arrangement. It’s a freaking minefield of my own making.

Liam finishes his part. His eyes fly to us. Jamen leaves the cluster of guys he’s been standing with and extends a hand to Liam.

“You did me proud.” Jamen laughs. “You played it almost better than I did.”

“No, sir,” Liam says, looking damn shell-shocked. “I do hope I did it justice, though.”

“Definitely,” I agree, coming to stand on his other side. “And you’re available to get started immediately? No other contracts you have to honor out?”

“I’ve never performed professionally before.” Liam readjusts his guitar before swiping long brown hair back from his eyes. “I’ve done some recording work, but fill-in only.” His accent is thick. I can’t tell exactly if it’s Irish or English, but it has to be one of those two.

Jamen smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you think?”

Sulli and Marcus come up, framing me on either side. My head swivels from side to side. Sulli looks interested in what I have to say. Marcus is picking at the cuff on his right wrist.

“I think we’d be lucky to have you, if you’re interested?” I give Liam a smile.

“Fuck yes,” he whoops, fist pumping the air.

“I’ll have legal get the contracts started.” Jamen pats him on the back. “Congratulations. I thought you’d be a good fit for them.”

“Welcome to Wicked Truths,” Marcus says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Thanks, man.” Liam smiles a wide smile that Marcus absolutely doesn’t return.

“At least pretend not to be an asshole?” I bump my shoulder against Marcus’s.

“Anything for you, princess.” Marcus pinches my cheek in his hand that very much still smells like my pussy.

Ohmigod, I’m going to murder him.

---