Page 64 of Omega on Fire

"I'm tired of being careful." I set my pizza down, wipe my fingers on a napkin. "I've been careful my whole life. I'm careful with my words, careful with my image, careful not to let my designation define me." I take another long drink of my wine, savoring the flavor. "And where has it gotten me? You know what? I don't want to think about it."

Joker leans over in his seat beside me, the scent ofrain and clean linen washing over me in comforting waves. "You're safe here," he says, those expressive eyes searching mine. "You know that, right?"

"I do." And I mean it. Even with my life imploding around me, even with Blaine's bullshit hanging over my head, I've never felt safer than I do right now, surrounded by these four men. "That's why I'm done being careful. At least for tonight."

I reach for Joker's hand, lacing our fingers together. His skin is softer than the others', his hands made for tech rather than combat but still marked with calluses that tell stories of a life lived hard and fast.

"Charlotte. . ." Teagan's voice holds warning, but his scent betrays him, leather and gunmetal sharpening with desire.

"What do you want, Charlotte?" Moses asks, his deep voice gentle as his thigh presses more firmly against mine.

What do I want? The question hangs in the air between us.

I want to forget, just for a little while, the weight on my shoulders. I want to feel something other than the anxiety that's been my constant companion since they pulled me from that hellish compound. I want to be wanted for who I am, not what I represent.

"I want you," I say simply, letting the words fall into the space between us. "All of you. I'm tired of pretending. This is inevitable."

The confession hangs there, my honey-cinnamon scent spiking with the truth of it. I've been fighting this attraction since they rescued me, telling myself it was just biology, just my Omega responding to their Alpha and Beta pheromones. But it's more than that now. It's trust. It's understanding. It's the way they look at me like I'm worth protecting, not because I'm an Omega, but because I'm me.

Beaux is the first to move. Pushing his chair back, he comes around the table and kneels beside my seat. Moses shifts his chair, giving him room. His whiskey-pepper scent engulfs me as he takes my free hand, the one not holding Joker's.

"You've got us, Harlequin," he says, bringing my knuckles to his lips. "All of us. Every way you want us."

My breath catches as his lips brush against my skin, the gentle scrape of his lip ring a contrast to the softness of his mouth.

"Is that what you want?" Teagan asks, setting his glass down with deliberate control. "All of us? Tonight?"

The thought sends a rush of heat between mythighs, my body responding with instinctive, primal need. "Yes," I say breathily, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. "Yes."

"Tell us what you need," Moses says, his fingers tracing eager circles on the top of the table as if it were my skin.

"I need to feel something real," I whisper, vulnerability cracking through my earlier boldness. "Something that isn't fear or obligation or—God, I'm so tired of calculating every word, every action, every?—"

Beaux rises slightly, cupping my face in both hands, and presses his lips to mine, swallowing the rest of my words. The kiss is gentle at first, questioning, giving me every opportunity to pull away. But I don't want gentle. Not tonight.

I lean into him, parting my lips, inviting him deeper. He groans against my mouth, the sound vibrating through me as his tongue slides against mine. The taste of him, whiskey and spice, floods my senses. His lip ring presses against my skin, the cool metal a counterpoint to the heat of his mouth.

When he finally pulls back, I'm breathless, dizzy with want. "Like that?" he asks, his voice rough.

"Yes," I manage. "Exactly like that."

From beside me, Moses stands, pushes his chair out of the way and kneels next to Beaux. Beaux shiftsand they are both side by side on their knees, waiting and eager. Moses slides his hand up my thigh, his long fingers tracing patterns that send shivers racing up my spine. "Your scent," he murmurs, leaning in to brush his nose against my neck. "Honey and cinnamon and something else now. Something sweeter."

Arousal. He's smelling my arousal, the slick beginning to gather between my thighs. The realization should embarrass me. I've spent my life fighting against the stereotype of Omegas as slaves to their biology, but tonight, I embrace it. Tonight, I want them to know exactly what they do to me.

Joker's fingers tighten around mine, his other hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from my face. "You're beautiful," he says simply. "Always, but especially right now."

I turn to look at him, struck by the sincerity in his light brown eyes. Beaux's touches are fire, Moses’ are earth, solid and grounding, but Joker's, Joker's are air, gentle and encompassing. I don't think, I react, leaning forward I press my lips to his.

His kisses are different to Beaux’s, more methodical somehow, like he's solving a puzzle only he can see. His hands come up to frame my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks as his tongue traces theseam of my lips, requesting rather than demanding entry.

I open for him, sighing as his tongue slides against mine. The scent of rain fills my lungs, making me feel cleansed, reborn. When we part, his gaze is heated, focused entirely on me.

"More?" he asks softly.

"More," I confirm, turning to find Teagan watching us with an intensity that takes my breath away.

Unlike the others, he hasn't moved from his side of the table. His stillness is calculated, measured, the restraint of an Alpha who knows his own power. He's waiting, I realize.

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