Page 41 of Omega Untamed
Suddenly, I didn’t feel well. Again. My eyes ached with tiredness, though I’d done almost nothing all day. Getting up and dancing around the room had gotten my energy going, but now I was depleted again.
I didn’t move and in my current position could not see Bast. I heard him go into the kitchen. Rustling. Then nothing.
Spoken words broke into my doze. “Here is tea if you want it.”
I lifted my head and saw Bast set a steaming mug of tea on the coffee table in front of me.
I leaned forward and took the mug. It nearly burned my hand so I grasped the handle and blew on the surface of the hot liquid.
Bast sat in a chair beside the couch. The TV still flickered before us in mute mode. It was a strange and weirdly intimate setting. An Alpha and an Omega sharing mugs of tea close to midnight with no words between them.
The tea was wonderful, sweetened just the way I liked. I rarely made tea for myself. I was a coffee drinker, and I snatched cups, in-between bouts of partying, as often as possible.
We each finished our drink without a word, our eyes hypnotically drawn to the silent TV. I realized when I set down my mug that technically I was in Bast’s bed. The couch was where he’d slept the rare nights he was here.
My body still felt depleted but the tea had quieted my roiling stomach. I stood, stretching my arms over my head, only realizing too late that I made the robe slide all the way up my upper thighs.
I glanced at Bast, feeling that dark-eyed gaze almost like fingers tracing up and down my bare legs. I watched him dart his glance away, watched the darkening of his cheeks and all those little telltale signs of emotion he would not overtly show. But to me, his feelings were clear and expressive, even if subtle on the outside.
It was almost as if I could feel the surging of his blood. The frustration behind having me here, an unanticipated guest who took his bed and not only that, was Omega gutter trash to boot. I almost heard his inner grumble, his war inside that was about his responsibility toward me and his own peril all of that brought.
“I’m exhausted. Good night,” I said.
He sat with his hands locked around his now empty mug, staring off, gazing anywhere but at me.
I wanted to think he was not repelled by me, but attracted. But that didn’t seem likely. Bast worked for a hard man of an elite killer gang that ran most of the city’s underground businesses. He wasn’t the least bit romantic about it or about saving me, but all business as usual.
As I got into bed and under the covers, I saw him again and again in my mind. His sharp, stony face, his unique stillness and silence even when he moved, even when he spoke, words clipped and circumspect. He did not participate in idle chit-chat. He was probably the most impeccable Alpha I’d ever met, which was both a compliment and a disappointment, since he appeared impossible to reach.
Yet, he’d bathed me when I was feverish. He’d sat by my bedside when I was the sickest and most in need. He’d shown an odd loyalty to my well-being.
He was so unlike Tarin, who wanted to do things for me but have me love him in return. Tarin who wore his emotions for me on his sleeve, who held so tight sometimes I needed to run just to feel I could breathe again.
Bast wasn’t like that. Did I want him to be?
And I still kept wondering why in all the combined hells he saved my life.
I turned onto my side, clutching a balled up pillow. I shut my eyes so tight I saw white at the edges of my blanked out vision, then held my breath as I allowed my next thought to wash over me.
Maybe I was the one attracted to Bast.
Therein lay all my problems. My confusions and indecisions. When I confronted the realization head on, my cock twitched. My ass clenched. I bit my lower lip, realizing it was true. The bodily response made it official.
Sure, I’d had lots of sex, but that didn’t mean I was attracted to the Alphas I did business with. Business was business. Bast was anything but.
At long last it had happened. There was an Alpha I wanted who didn’t want me back.
Frustrated, I tossed and turned in the bed, waking in the early morning hours covered in sweat. I’d had terrible fever dreams all night but they faded quickly until I couldn’t remember them.
I got up and took a quick, cool shower.
When I came into the living room, Bast was already up and preparing breakfast. I sat at the kitchen table and watched him, secretly hoping he’d made enough for two.
Wordlessly, he set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and toast in front of me.
“Will you be back tonight?” I asked.
“I never know from one day to the next. Often Myre will have me on call, which means I stay in my suite.”
