Page 63 of Omega on Fire

Her eyes meet mine, and the spark I see there sends heat through my veins. "Well, Deacon," she says, using my call sign in a way that makes it sound like an endearment, "I was thinking good food, maybe some drinks, and then. . ." She glances around at all of us, her confidence growing visibly with each second. "And then we see where the night takes us."

Beaux whistles low. "I like the way you think, Harley."

"We should be careful," Teagan cautions, though his scent betrays his interest. "The press?—"

"Fuck the press," Charlotte cuts in, her voice firm despite the playfulness in her eyes. "They're going to write whatever they want, regardless. Might as well give them something true to twist."

Her boldness catches me off guard. This isn't the frightened Omega we rescued. No, this is a fierce, brilliant woman who knows exactly what she wants. And right now, she wants us.

My smile widens as I eye my brothers, each of them radiating their own versions of the same hunger I feel. The rest of this night isn't about the press or Senator Blaine or the fight that's still to come. Tonight is about giving our Omega what she needs, what we all need.

"Pizza first," I say, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently. "Everything else after."

The way she squeezes back, her thumb tracing small circles on my skin, tells me everything I need to know about where this night is headed. For once, I'm not overthinking the future or dwelling on the past. I'm right here, in this moment, with her and my brothers.

CHAPTER 24

CHARLOTTE

The back room of the pizzeria is dimly lit, cozy, and just far enough off the beaten path that I don't feel like I need to hide. The scent of garlic, bubbling cheese, and yeasty dough fills the air, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I'm not calculating every step. I'm just existing. Laughing. Teasing. Surrounded by the four men who would raze the world for me.

Joker found the place, of course he did. Tiny, family-run, with a password-protected side entrance and a back room that's more speakeasy than dining space. The room is empty except for a long wooden dining table bathed in a soft golden light. And, naturally, there's a record player in the corner, playing old-school jazz like we've stepped into a dream. It’sintimate and private, I have no doubt that Joker has orchestrated this entire set up last minute.

I'm still in my burgundy gala gown, heels kicked off beneath the table, the fabric skimming my thighs as I sip from a wine glass and let the warmth of the moment soak into my bones. I've felt a hundred kinds of eyes on me tonight, but none like the ones around me now. These men don't just look—they see. They've never seen anything other than me. Just me and that means everything.

"Late-night pizza and Miles Davis after the night we just had?" I ask teasing.

Beaux bites into a slice and moans, head tilting back like he's tasting divinity. "Baby, I wouldn't have it any other way. Yeah, the gala was shit but, Harley, you were brilliant."

"Trouble," Teagan mutters, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

Joker hands me a slice stacked high with pepperoni, mushrooms, and extra cheese. "You said distraction, I deliver distraction. There's a security team out front and encrypted signal jammers on the perimeter. No one is here but us. The owners gave us an hour. Maybe two."

Moses leans closer, heat radiating from his thigh against mine. "Plenty of time."

The way he says it makes heat rise in my chest. In my core. It's not just the wine. It's the way they look at me like I'm a ready dessert.

I take the first bite of pizza and can't help the sound that escapes me, a moan of pure pleasure, as the flavors explode across my tongue. Cheese stretches in strings from my lips to the slice, and I don't care about looking graceful anymore.

"Fuck, that's good," I say after swallowing, licking sauce from the corner of my mouth. Four sets of eyes track the movement of my tongue. The air changes suddenly, charged with something beyond the casual intimacy we've been sharing. My scent blooms stronger, responding to theirs as they thicken around me, saturating the room in lust.

"You've got a little. . ." Moses reaches over, his thumb brushing the corner of my lips, coming away with a spot of sauce. The simple touch sends electricity racing across my skin. Before he can pull back, I catch his wrist.

Looking him straight in those deep brown eyes, I bring his thumb to my mouth and slowly suck it clean.

His pupils dilate instantly. I hear his sharp intake of breath, feel the tension suddenly electrify his body beside me.

"Fuck," Beaux whispers from across the table, the utterance sounding more like devotion than profanity.

I release Moses' thumb with a soft pop, surprised by my own boldness. The wine hums in my veins, but I'm not drunk, just free. Free of expectations. Free to let go.

"What are you doing to us, Harley?" Beaux's voice is rough, strained.

I take another bite of pizza, chewing slowly as I consider him. "Right now? Enjoying my pizza." I rest my chin on my hand, feeling the weight of the diamond earrings still dangling from my lobes. "But I could be persuaded to enjoy other things."

Teagan's low growl vibrates across the table. He hasn't touched his pizza yet, just nursing a glass of whiskey, those hazel eyes boring into me.

"Careful," he warns, but there's heat behind it, not caution.

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