Page 50 of Your Wild Omega

I bite down on a faint moan and finger my sensitive cock tip. What would he think about these thoughts I’m having? Would he welcome me? Take my aching dick into his mouth and suck?

I gasp as pressure throbs between my fingers. The tingling explodes in a heady rush, up my spine and out my length.

The heat flushes all the way up my neck. I’ve jerked off to the sounds of Red before, but never Rickon specifically. Something in my life has shifted, but I can’t put my finger on it. Or maybe I can.

Pack is more than the omega heart. I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t need a pack, but now the harsh truth haunts me. As the saying goes, you only realize what you have after you’ve lost it.

I pluck tissues from the box on the bookshelf with aggressive force that sends the tissue box tumbling. Once I’ve cleaned up, I curl my hand in a fist onto the armrest. I cannot endure this torment much longer.

A knock sounds on my door, shaking me loose from my study of case details relating to corporate identity theft.

“Come in,” I call, screen-locking my laptop.

The door glides open and Rickon sticks his head around. His skin flushes pink and his hair plasters his scalp, still wet from the shower. “Busy?”

I throw him a lopsided smile.

He chuckles. “Dumb question, yeah?”

“Always got time for you,” I reassure, and he slips inside. I only have one chair in here, so I clear space off my desk and pat the surface. Rickon squeezes by me to rest his ass there, and a tight knot in my chest eases. At least we still share this easy camaraderie.

He clenches his hands together in his tilted lap. “Sorry about before. That can’t have been easy for you, happening in your own home.”

I lean back with a sigh and run my hand through my hair. My gaze drops to the trash can under my desk. He can’t see the tissues, right? Or smell what I did while thinking about him and Red?

“You don’t need to apologize, Ricky,” I offer. “I invited an omega, and you, into my home, knowing what I was getting into.”

He studies me, and apprehension fizzes in my chest under his close survey. “But you didn’t invite her second alpha.”

I groan and lean my elbows on my desk beside his hip. “No, I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him here. It’s just . . .” Damn, how do I explain this? “He gives me this look, like he’s evaluating me, you know?”

Ricky nods. “He’s trying to figure things out, and he doesn’t have many reference points.”

“Don’t take his side,” I grumble into my hands.

Ricky laughs and ruffles my hair, and for a moment it feels like we’re back in high school. But I can’t help noticing he doesn’t correct me. Am I losing my best friend as well?

I swallow around a lump in my throat. “Are you really okay with his touch? He’s not forcing you?” I lean back and swivel my chair so I can see his expression. My knee bumps against his leg.

My friend turns strangely wistful and the corners of his mouth arch upward. “Red taught him what consent means, and he asks every time. It’s pretty cute, actually.” He chuckles, and the noise eats at me.

I fold my arms across my chest to press down the pain. “I just can’t help seeing that fucker who left you with a bruised throat.”

His beautiful pale green eyes widen. “What? No, no. This is nothing like that.” A red flush tints his cheeks as he drops his gaze. “I actually like it a bit rough.” He flinches and grimaces. “Sorry, TMI, right?”

He flashes an apologetic smile, and a pang squeezes my heart. As if Ricky, who’s been through hell ever since he was a child but still always had my back, should ever apologize to me. But now that it rings in my ears, I recall he says sorry a lot. Have I been the kind of friend he needs to be apologetic around? Did I give him a reason to hide?

“I don’t mind,” I say gruffly, wrestling with the swirling emotions. “You can be real with me.”

“Yeah.” Something incomprehensible flashes through his eyes but then it withers, and he pastes on a smile. Like hope dying.

What did I do? Is it because I didn’t accept Red when I had the chance? Or is it because I missed the fact he was suffering? I grip his knee, silently begging for my friend to come back to me. “This is your home too, Ricky. Please feel at ease here.”

Because if he doesn’t, he’ll move out, and so will Red. Cold fear grips my stomach.

Ricky chuckles. “Well, we made ourselves at home on your couch pretty well.”

I grin. “I did notice.” The flicker of tension between us vanishes, but the one in my gut remains. I force it aside. “Onanother note, I was thinking about Red’s upcoming heat, and I had an idea.”

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