Page 5 of Knot a Tie
I catch his musky scent the second I walk into the room. “Andy,” I say, spotting him looking out of the window at the far side of the room.
“Ray-ray,” he says, turning around to smile at me. “How’s things?”
I cross over to him, meeting him half-way and give him two air kisses before stepping back. He’s cute, in a cute puppy kind of way, posh and nerdy. We’ve banged a few times, but seriously, it’s to scratch an itch. He doesn’t do it for me. Yes, I may have only had four sexual partners since I had my first shag two years ago, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t enjoyed them along the way. Andy here took my v-card and held it dear to him. Still does. He sniffs around every so often, looking for me to join his pack of posh, nerdy, puppy dog alphas but nope. I want posh and hot, sexy and growly, older than me, preferably so I feel taken care of in ways that young Scrappy Doo here couldn’t possibly do.
“Fine,” I reply. “You?”
“Better now.”
Ugh.
Also, I want someone with better chat than that. Even an ‘I’m shit, but if you suck my cock, it will make it all better,’ would be hotter than that.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, getting to the point. I want to hurry this along, go upstairs and stab myself in the stomach with my first suppressant and get that show on the road.
“I was in the neighbourhood; thought I’d drop in and see how you were.”
I nod slowly. “Well, I’m a bit busy right now. Can I ring you later and we’ll hang out?”
His face falls.
He recognises a brush off when he hears one.
He has no choice but to comply, or have my father throw him out. “Of course,” he says, giving me that stiff-upper lip he is renowned for. “I look forward to it.”
With a soft smile, he heads out and I breathe out in relief.
“Time to get stabby.”
I make my way up the wide staircase, trailing my hand over the light, highly glossed wood to the first floor. Passing the portrait of my mum and dad on their wedding day, I smile. They look so happy,arestill happy. I envy them, but only in a happy way. I know I will find my pack eventually. I’ve known since I first learned about love and relationships that I wanted to be mated to a pack, not just one. My family is fine with my decision. They just want me to be happy. I’m so lucky to have them support me.
Entering my pretty, pale pink bedroom, I close the door and head into the ensuite. Pulling the box of tiny disposable injections out of my bag, along with the small yellow sharps bin, I arrange the injection on the countertop and pull up my clothes to expose my stomach. Picking it up, I remove the sterile cap with my teeth and then jab myself in the bit of flesh I’ve squeezed together.
“Oww,” I mutter around the lid.
I drop the needle in the sharps bin and then the lid, placing it on top of the small wall cabinet out of the way.
Dropping my top back into place, I smile and kick off my shoes, ready to relax the rest of today before I go about haranguing my dad to let me help with his business. He’s a top barrister for the Inter-pack Parliament. It’s always been something that has fascinated me, but dad is old-skool. As much as I love him, his whole omegas should be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen ideals are outdated as fuck. It’s any wonder he supports my decision to delay my heat, but I intend to bring him into the twenty-first century if it kills me.
ChapterFour
Spencer
It’s been three months since Richard was caught creating mayhem with the Jets, but we still haven’t found him. It is also three long-arsed months since James and I spotted that omega. Jones did a thorough search on all black 911s with that partial licence plate, but none came back registered to anyone even remotely close in area or owner. He’s still digging, but the longer it takes, the grumpier James gets. He is not a patient man, and these two situations have him at the end of his rope.
Three years older than me, he often acts like he’s my dad. I’m thirty-two, a grown-arsed alpha in one of the most prestigious packs in England, and yet one look from him can chastise me more than our actual dad can.
Right now, I’m being bellowed at by him in his fancy office on the ground floor of the big mansion where our pack resides in Chelsea. I tuned him out a while ago because I’m still not sure what I’ve done wrong. I’m not taking it personally. Someone is in need of a good rut with a hot omega to knot inside of, but that is not happening. Two of us, namely him and me, have decided to suffer in our search for Blueberry-muffins. Even going back to the village, multiple times, hasn’t born any…berries. This omega is protected by state-of-the-art security, which just intrigues us all the more. Jones is good, but he isn’tthatgood. So, we have ended up omega-less and with two pissed off alphas, who a) didn’t get to see Blueberry-muffins and b) are ready to mate an omega.
Luckily, James and I are holding firm. It’s BM or no one.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I blink and focus on James. “Huh?”
“Spence!” he roars. “Have I been talking to myself for the last twenty minutes.”
“Yep,” I say and stand up out of the uncomfortable chair on the other side of his big walnut desk. “I don’t even know why you’re yelling at me.”
