Page 48 of Omega Untamed
When the day ended, Myre took me to one of the hotel’s most elegant, private dining rooms. All I could think about was when I’d get home, and what I’d find Kee up to. He’d been painting for days. He had finished the living room and wanted to tackle the bedroom.
I was relieved to see him keep busy, but also taken with his attention to detail, his color choices, his ability to do such a perfect job while still healing from a broken finger.
Though I had ordered him some clothes, he wore his torn up jeans to paint in. And nothing else. They were threadbare, a stone-washed blue with bleached white seams that hugged his ass in unbelievable tightness. Little rips exposed his upper thighs, nearly revealing the lower parts of both cheeks. Walking in the front door and seeing him like that, his hair tied back in a messy tail, his muscles moving under his honey-dark skin as he moved the roller back and forth, had me breathless. And I did not get breathless. Not ever. I held control and prided myself on it.
Kee turned everything upside-down.
Myre ordered the most expensive wine. We did not have menus, so he’d planned the dinner ahead of time. I was uncomfortable with the fact that no one else had been invited.
Myre started out talking casually about the week. He rarely made small talk, but when he asked me, “Do you think it might rain?” I was taken off guard.
I nodded. “The weather calls for a storm tonight.”
“I love storms. Their power. Their beauty. The mood of them goes straight to here.” He thumped himself on his chest. “The best is when a storm correlates perfectly with the Burn. Ah, the energy intensifies.”
Did Myre still even have Burns? I couldn’t be sure.
“You have a Burn coming up, don’t you?”
I let out a slow breath through my nose. Myre made it his business to know my schedule, down to the wire, and that of most of his employees. He did not like to be caught off-guard or surprised if someone couldn’t make it to work due to that damned feverish need to procreate.
“I do.”
“Another week, correct?”
My face heated a little. “Correct.”
I’d already made plans to go to a chattel farm. My Burns were short. Myre would miss me for a day at most. I would not mention it at all to Kee.
Suddenly, Myre made a confession I had never expected. “I miss them.”
“Sir?”
“Burns.”
I pressed my lips hard together, wondering what I should say.
“You look uncomfortable,” he accused with a slash of a smile. “The subject bother you? My men talk about it all the time. Brag, actually.”
I nodded. “Yes. They do.”
“But not you. Why?”
I started to protest.
Myre held his hand up to stop me. “You’re very private. I know. If I were a more paranoid man, I might think you were up to something.”
My heart revved up.
“But,” he continued softer, his voice almost praising. “You’re more a cerebral man. I appreciate that.” His smile widened to a grimace. “But when you let loose, I’ll bet you are wild.” He let out a terrible laugh.
I glanced away, grabbing my glass of wine and taking a long sip.
“Do you have anyone steady?” Myre asked me.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I ask only because I smell Omega on you. And you rarely have anyone at your suite. I’ve checked.”
