Page 7 of O'Mega's Revenge
“Look around, Tits,” Wolf growled.
“I know,” I told him.
He wouldn’t let it rest, however.
“This ain’t a party for old ladies and hangers, babe.”
“I know, Wolf.”
Missile chimed in, “Who is the bossy bitch-ass whore inside?”
Wolf looked confused.
“The madam with the bodyguard,” I clarified.
His nostrils flared like they usually did when I caught him in a lie or getting ready to lie.
We were interrupted, however.
“Who are these beauties?”
Double fucking shit.If I remembered my hierarchy well enough, this guy was number three or four in line. He owned a share in a brothel out of Nevada. Was it Henderson, or Tahoe? I couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered much— he was scum. Stinky, mangy, overweight, hairy scum. He drugged his girls and didn’t care if their johns used condoms or not. He was a sicko responsible for at least seven incidents the DHMC had intervened on in the last four years.
“Normies,” Wolf answered, “and leaving.”
He grabbed me by the arm. Maybe he knew better than to grab Missile or thought I was the greater threat.
“Who you calling normal?” Missile fired off her big mouth.
She flashed her tits at the guy, and his eyes lingered, taking in the dark nipples and her perfect skin.
He lost interest quickly and landed on my cleavage. “Those are some big ones. Show me.”
It wasn’t a request.
Wolf’s face turned to granite. His normally easy-going attitude disappeared. “No.”
I kicked his shin to shut him up. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” I tugged the corset down and flashed my pink nipples. It took a hell of a lot more effort to squash them back inside.
“Wait a second, lemme see those tats.”
I had the undersides and my rib cage covered in colorful tattoos. There were none on the parts of me that showed to the outside world, just places that plastic surgery hadn’t been able to fully fix. It was my armor when I had none.
Under each boob was a wolf. Their jaws reached up to hover, open-mouthed and slavering under each nipple. Each wolf reached upward and clawed around the outer curve of my breasts, leaving a trail of torn skin in the wake of the claws.
It was a matched pair, for Wolf, chosen by him, and approved by me to cover one of the worst injustices I’d ever experienced.
But I refused to hide. Wolf won me fair and square. Then paid for and mended the damage done to me. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t kept me. That was on me. My nature to remain free even if it killed me. I pulled out the better of the pair and showed him as much as possible.
Wolf covered my nipple with a hand.
“You see that? It’s a wolf.”
His voice was like gravel, and sharp edged with malice.
“Your girl?”
“Yes.”
