Page 40 of No Escape

I spin around and duck under the loft of Valor’s bed to grab the chair. When I turn back to the room, Valor is exiting the bathroom with only a small towel on.

“You took my clothes,” he mutters to Omen.

No matter how hard I try to force myself to move or look away, I seem to be frozen in place.

Valor has a hand wrapped around the edges of the towel that he holds together at his hip, but his chest, abs, and entire left leg all show. There are so many lines of well-defined muscle that I almost don’t know what to do with my eyes.

Nowhere is safe to look.

Not that I should be staring.

If our roles were reversed, I’d be uncomfortable with someone ogling me when I was only in a tiny, little, baby towel.

My head tilts as I try to determine if the towel is miniature-sized or if Valor just makes it seem ridiculously small.

It’s probably the latter.

The way my cheeks burn tells me I’ve been looking for too long, but I saw a lot when I popped into the bathroom to pee. Those sexy muscles on the sides of his ass as he turned into the stream of water will haunt me for a long time.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, ducking under the edge of the loft and dragging the chair to the long side of the table.

Valor grunts.

I’m not an expert in caveman, but I think it’s an acknowledgment. Maybe he even accepts my apology for looking at him like he’s a perfectly cooked steak while I’m about to die of starvation.

Omen continues checking the food. It’s served on what reminds me of the plastic lunch trays they used at my high school back in the States, but they’re topped with a brown takeout container that seems much more eco-friendly than Styrofoam. Next to that is plastic silverware, a box of something that might be a beverage, and a small cup with a lid. Just beside that is a small packet of salad dressing.

Omen chuckles, and my line of sight moves to him.

Valor’s reflection shows perfectly in the glass as he pulls a pair of sweatpants up his thick thighs.

I swallow.

Okay, so I caught a quick look in the bathroom, but holy shit.

It wasn’t the water distorting the image.

His dick is intimidating as hell.

“Hungry, pet?” Omen taunts, running his fingers under my lower lip. “I believe you’re drooling.”

I smack his hand away and settle into the chair on the floor.

The table isn’t particularly high, but my eyes barely meet the top of it. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat from the table with them. I’ll have to balance my food on my lap.

“Someone is pouty when she’s called out on her lady-perving.” Omen holds a hand to his mouth, like he’s whispering the information to some non-existent third party. He slides around the table and just behind my chair before squatting and pulling my hair to the side with his cold hands.

It’s been chilly in the facility since I got here, but last night was significantly worse.

I’m not sure if tonight will be as bad, or maybe they purposely keep the omega wing colder than the alpha side for the exact purpose Valor mentioned earlier. If the omegas are too cold to comfortably sleep, it’s only a matter of time before they seek out someone to cuddle with for body warmth.

Omen leans around the chair, getting very close to my ear. “Just putting it out there—you’ve got blanket permission to eye fuck me anytime you’d like.” His accent rolls through his words, and I can’t be sure if it’s his warm breath on my neck or how sexy he sounds when he speaks that makes me shiver. “Why don’t you take my seat? It’s not proper for a lady to be forced to eat practically on the floor.”

“Sit down,” Valor growls, appearing at my other side. He nods for Omen to take the chair farthest from the door and pulls the other out.

Before I know what’s coming, Valor scoops me up from the lounger, sits, and plants me on his knee.

I’m impressed the metal chair can even hold our combined weight. Ever since I was little, people have guessed that I weigh alotless than I do. It’s a combination of being tall and having a slender face, but I know I’m not light.

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