Page 44 of Broken Heat
Another silence. “They all are, my friend. Every omega who comes here.”
“I know, but—” How to say it? Elon was special, damn it. And I hated the thought of anyone else touching him. I needed to be there to make sure it was all right. That Elon was okay. And I couldn’t.
I pressed my hand tightly to my forehead, wincing. I was lying flat on my back on my couch, my ceiling fan ticking overhead, and I could see at a glance my cock tenting my sarong like some out-of-control creature. Why today? Why now?
I continued. “Elon will ask to see me, but he can’t. Not with me in this condition.”
“No. It’s not how we do things here.”
“I know. But he’ll ask. He’ll want to see me. Do what you can to gently let him down. Gently, please.”
“I’m always gentle,” Senta replied.
I wanted to laugh but I wasn’t in the mood.
“Tell him I’m sorry. It just happened. I hate that it happened.”
“Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course, meals will be brought three times a day to your door. If you do want to go out for any reason, you know to stick to the north side of the barracks where clients don’t go. Away from the golf course.”
“Yes.” I wanted to go out. I wanted to go outside and walk straight down the blue path and past the fenced pools and tennis courts, past the glittery-lit gazebos and stands offering snacks and fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. I wanted to head straight up to the little path two cabins in from the lagoon to Elon’s sweet little purple bungalow.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Well, ruts are ruts. They sound like the word. It’s not easy alone.”
I shut my eyes, pressing the phone hard to my ear, pulling my knees up to hide the bulge that kept pulsing for attention underneath the loose sarong.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m a phone call away,” Senta said.
When he sensed we were distressed, it was his way to act a bit fatherly over us all. The omega in him, as well as the healer, wanted to nurture and fix.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll go talk to Elon.”
I shut my eyes tight, hating to think of disappointing the sweet omega with the broken heats. The beautiful man who had barely just begun to open up and share with me his deepest thoughts.
But it wasn’t only that. Something deeper inside me tugged and twisted at the thought of not being able to see Elon. Someone else would be touching him, making him moan in pleasure, helping him overcome preconceived ideas and expectations about his omega body, his omega desires.
I had the urge to rush to the bathroom and be sick.
Instead, I lay on my couch and kicked hard at the armrest, eyeing my phone every couple of minutes because I had his number up on my screen and a text window open.
Nope. I couldn’t do that. I would not jeopardize him or his healing process. He had come to the island for treatment, not to humor a troubled alpha.
I needed to hole up alone and wait for my rut to ease.
Senta would inform my colleagues and friends and they would know to leave me alone.
Ruts were not events one showed in public or had friends over to celebrate. You either got a partner or stayed close to your shower and bed where you could alleviate the tension as often as necessary.
