Page 79 of Wicked Truths

“Nothing. I even like dinosaurs.”

“Is there some ex out there that we should send Hawk to have a visit with?”

“No, nothing like that.” Her head shakes as her face rests against her forearm.

“Okay, then—”

She cuts me off by saying, “When I was three, my mom was kidnapped and held for ransom. My maternal grandparents are old oil money. The type of sickeningly rich that five or ten generations couldn’t blow if they gave it their very best effort.” I quirk an eyebrow because I’m pretty sure I could if I really tried, but that’s not the point. “They hired an acquisitions team to get her back and kept it out of the press. They had her for seventeen days before a highly-illegal mercenary team extracted her.” She sighs. “She came back, but she was never the same. She became a raging alcoholic—the type to mix drinking with all the prescriptions they gave her. She died when I was sixteen. Her organs couldn’t take the abuse anymore.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. I didn’t see that coming.

“I know blackmail isn’t the same thing as ransom. For whatever reason it just happened to trigger those memories.” Oakley shudders out a breath.

I slide my hands up, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It is what it is. I don’t blame her for being tormented, but I do resent the fact that she failed to be a mother because she was far too wasted to be bothered with her kid.” Her face rolls around her arm as her scent gets sour.

“My dads pretty much bombed at parenting too. They also didn’t have the first clue how to treat an omega with respect.” I go on to tell her a little about how we ended up in England. My mum took a chance, lied about her designation, and ended up falling for her new bosses, all with a quite unhappy and sullen son in tow.

“Shit, I’m glad things worked out, but I bet that was hard on you.” Oakley stretches a hand back and pats my thigh.

“It was better once I got into the music scene. I didn’t begrudge her finding a new pack, and I certainly wasn’t going to stay in Cork with my fathers.” I grimace, praying she doesn’t ask about my former band.

“Well, you’ve got magical hands. That’s for damn sure,” she groans as I work the top of her ass and hips.

“Oh, sweetness, you have no idea.” I chuckle.

* * *

The massage continues until I’m sitting on Oakley’s thighs while working her glutes. The scent of her pussy long ago flooded my senses.

My dick is a sticky leaking mess in response to her pheromones. It’s a fact of life that alphas and omegas are extra juicy during sex. It’s all about the breeding, which I have no interest in normally. At the current moment, my brain is convinced I should rut, claim, and breed the wiggly little omega under me.

Am I purposely driving her crazy as I pull her pussy apart to work the bottom of her ass cheeks? Yes, it’s a real possibility. She’s nude. I could be inside her in three seconds if I really tried, and the nest is so saturated in her lavender scent that somehow, I’m pondering the possibility of kids and a white picket fence when normally all of that is the furthest thing from my mind.

This is why omegas are so goddamn treacherous.

Oakley shocks the hell out of me by rolling over. I push up on my knees and tilt my head, studying her to make sure she’s not going to run. That would be a bad move on her part because I would absolutely chase.

Her hand slides over her stomach and down to tease her clit. “You’ve pretty much been tormenting me for the last half hour. Don’t pretend like it wasn’t purposeful.”

I laugh, gesturing toward my cock which is hard to miss. “Do you need something, sweetness?”

She nods as her chest rises and falls in rapid movements. My hand hits the mattress next to her head, and my cock bounces against her hand, which is still working her pussy. Pushing up on my knees keeps me from completely trapping her to the mattress.

“I didn’t hear you ask for anything,” I taunt.

“What is with alphas? Do I really have to beg?” she huffs.

“It does help if you’re clear what you’re asking for. I’ve got fingers, a tongue…” I pull her hand away from her clit and aim my cock to bump against it as I grind. “Then there’s my—” My words cut off when she pushes herself up and shoves her tongue into my mouth.

It’s hot, but the fact her slick cunt is so drenched it soaks my shorts has a much more dangerous effect on my control. Her pheromones flood the air, and the intense smell of her perfume sends my head into a fog.

I’ve read extensively about the process. It’s one step away from completely losing ourselves to rut. Oakley’s hot hands slide down my stomach and into the waistband of my shorts. I’m not sure how I missed how warm she is, but I do believe she spiked a fever at some point during the massage.

My cock bounces out as she pulls my shorts down.

My brain is pure fucking chaos.

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