Page 223 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus
Not until Melody.
They aren’t fucking joking about the pull between compatible alphas and omegas. It’s an undeniable connection. Her scent immediately sends a jolt to my cock every single time I catch a whiff of it, but more than that...
I actually want to touch her.
I very rarely crave sex. That’s not to say I don’t have sexual desires because I do, but I know I’m more than capable of jerking off and getting the job done. Human contact, for the most part, seems like a lot of work just to have an orgasm. Or it did until Melody fluttered her lashes at me while saying it’s a compliment that I have an unnatural and unmatched addiction to her scent.
I scan the restaurant and quickly determine Miller and Melody aren’t here.
It’s weird.
His plan was to bring her to breakfast so we could all discuss the contract.
Yanking out my phone, my jaw falls as I get a look at the screen.
Miller, Nik, and I have a group chat, and it exploded while my phone was in my pocket.
I briefly scan through the messages as my brain races through what all this means. Melody was feverish and perfuming when Miller found her. He brought her up to the nest in the penthouse and called the nurse practitioner to do an emergency consult.
Shit, how did I miss so much happening in such a short amount of time?
They say things move fast with omegas, but I never realized it could be quite this quick.
I spin around and leave the restaurant. I need to be therenow.
The building might be a hotel, but Nik’s moms converted the entire floor on this side of the building into a massive penthouse apartment.
It’s nice, I guess. I mean it’s pretty and has a lot of stainless steel and cream walls, but it’s also not very warm or welcoming.
It comes off more like a high-end apartment than a comfortable, warm, and cozy home.
I shove my glasses and shake out my hands.
I hope Melody likes it.
If she doesn’t then I’ll take her and head home to Virginia. If she doesn’t like our house then she can pick her own, wherever she wants.
Well, if she likes us and wants to keep up a more permanent relationship.
“What’s happening?” I ask, pushing myself forward so I don’t stand frozen obsessing about what ifs.
“She wasn’t in good shape when I found her,” Miller says, swiping a hand over his face. He’s pacing the floor bare in the sunken living room. “She’s in heat or going into it... Fuck, we didn’t even get to go over the personalized contract.”
“She signed the generic one,” I remind him.
The standard agreement has all an omega’s dos and don’ts before they even arrive. It’s to protect everyone in case an omega goes into heat immediately. It’s extremely important because of consent. Once an omega is in heat, they’re more likely to give into the fog.
I know the nurse practitioner will be verifying that Melody is comfortable with us and going over the basics that she agreed to before arriving.
This is a good thing, I remind myself. She created that guideline well before her heat hit, meaning she was clear enough to fully think through each option. I signed it last night, but I do wish we could’ve done a specialized contract.
My mind won’t stop racing through all the facts.
My stress is sky high.
Miller looks worse than I feel. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands and weirdly shaking out his arms.
It seems like he’s preparing to go into battle.
