Page 10 of Give Me You
"There's nothing out of the ordinary. No other instances," Otto says. "None of the bottles seem to be tampered with, which means that Emilio was drugged a different way."
I frown, my jaw tightening. Someone drugged Emilio, and they did it in a way that wouldn't be obvious. That takes planning, and it makes my blood boil. "Any ideas who?"
Otto pauses, and I can hear the hesitation in his voice. "How is Emilio doing?"
"He's okay," I say, my gaze walking back over to the bedroom. "He's asleep now." The absolute fear and shame in Emilio’s face when I carried him in here still tugs at my heartstrings. I never thought about that aspect of the shit I sell. I never even fathomed I would come upon someone whodidn’twant it, suffering from something I boasted only brought wanted pleasure. "I need to find out who's using my drugs without my permission like that."
"There were no other instances of that happening," Otto says. "The crowd has died down a little bit. However, I have a hunch that Zaden might have something to do with it."
"What do you mean?" I ask, pushing off the wall.
"Zaden seems to be a lot more active in the last hour or so," Otto says. "Walking through the club, saying his hellos, actually managing. Almost as if he knows that Emilio is incapacitated somewhere so he took the chance to step in."
I curse under my breath, my hand tightening around the phone. Of course, it would be connected to Zaden. That piece of shit has been trying to take Emilio down for years, and now he's stooped to drugging his own brother. Possibly. Hopefully not because then I’ll be the one wringing his goddamn neck. "Alright, call me if you have anything else. I'll update you on Emilio later. He's stubborn, that one."
Otto laughs, the sound carrying a warmth that’s odd to me from such a stoic Alpha. "And that's why his parents gave him the club. Good night, Akira."
"Night," I say, hanging up.
I resist the urge to go back into the bedroom and instead head for the shower. It isn’t until I’m under the steam, my head bowed against the tiles, my hand slowly stroking my cock that I realize what I’m doing. Emilio’s name is just on the edge of my tongue, a heavy sigh falling from my lips.
“It was just a thing of necessity, Akira,” I tell myself. Emilio doesn't have some kind of magic mouth or whatever. It was just helping him through a heat spike, nothing more. But I don’t stop stroking myself, imagining the pregnant Omega on his knees as he cradles his swollen belly, his lips parted for my taste.
A grunt tears from my throat at the fantasy, my balls pulling tight as I coat the wall with several ropes of cum. One hit of Emilio and I’m fucking obsessed. Is that really all it takes?
Emilio
I wake up refreshed and stretch, my body feeling loose and relaxed in a way it hasn't in weeks. The exhaustion that's been weighing me down for months seems to have lifted, replaced by a sense of calm that's almost unsettling. But then I turn my head and find myself face to face with Liam and everything that happened last night slowly starts to come back to me all at once.
I freak out, sitting up so fast my head spins. The room tilts slightly, and I have to press a hand to my forehead to steady myself.
A large shirt covers me, the fabric soft against my skin and smelling like cedarwood. It's not mine. None of this is mine. I look around frantically, trying to piece together where I am and how I got here. Liam's face is relaxed in sleep beside me, his breathing deep and even. His arm is stretched out across the space where I was lying, like he was holding me before I woke up.
The heat. The desperation. Akira and Liam taking care of me. My face burns with embarrassment. I need to get out of here before either of them wakes up and tries to talk about it. This was just a necessity. It doesn't mean anything. It can't mean anything.
Carefully, I slip out of the bed and grab my pants from where they're draped over a chair in the corner, groaning when I realize they're soaked through with slick and cum. There's no way I can wear these. The fabric is damp and sticky, and just touching it makes my stomach turn. I search around the room, my heart pounding in my chest, looking for anything else I can put on.
My eyes land on a random pair of shorts crumpled on the floor near the dresser. I snatch them up and slip them on, the waistband hanging low on my hips even after I tighten the drawstring as much as it'll go. The hem falls past my knees, making me look ridiculous, but I don't care. I just need to get out of here. I need to get back to my apartment before anyone realizes I'm gone.
My shoes are the next priority. I search for them, dropping to my knees to look under the bed. They're kicked so far back, I have to stretch to reach them. When I finally pull them out, I shove my feet into them without bothering to tie the laces. My hands are shaking too much to deal with knots right now, my heart pumping out of my chest, panic clawing at my throat. Every second I spend here feels like a second too long.
The bedroom door creaks slightly when I open it, and I freeze, holding my breath. Liam doesn't stir, relief flooding through me as I slip out into the hallway, moving as quietly as I can. The apartment is unfamiliar since I didn't really see it on the way in, all dark wood and minimalist furniture. There are photos on the walls, pictures of Akira and Liam together at various ages. They look identical in most of them, save for their hair. It's strange seeing them like this, younger and less guarded.
A clock on the wall tells me it's just after two in the morning. Alarm bells ring in my head. Zaden is probably already looking for ways to use my absence against me. The thought makes my stomach churn with anxiety.
My phone. Where the hell is my phone? I search around, checking the coffee table and the couch cushions. Nothing. Panic rises higher in my chest. Without my phone, I can't call a cab. I can't let anyone know I'm okay. I move into the kitchen, and finally spot it on the floor near the refrigerator.How the fuck did it get over there?
The screen is cracked, a spiderweb of lines spreading from the corner, but it still works when I press the button. Thank god.
Quickly, I pull up a cab app and request a ride, my fingers fumbling over the screen. The estimated wait time is twelve minutes. I can do twelve minutes. I just need to get to the front door and wait outside. No one needs to know I was here.
I'm almost to the front door, my hand reaching for the handle, when I hear a voice behind me. "Where do you think you're going?"
The sound makes me jump, and I spin around to see Akira there. He's half dressed, wearing just a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His arms are folded across his chest as he tilts his head, studying me with those dark eyes. He looks like he just woke up, his hair messy and sticking up in places, his eyesstill heavy with sleep, but there's an alertness there too, like he was waiting for this.
Muscles ripple beneath those tattoos as he moves, walking over to flip on the light. I cringe by the door, squinting against the flood of brightness through the room.
"I didn't mean to wake you," I say quickly, the words tumbling out. "I already called a cab and…"
