Page 7 of Give Me You
Emilio
Everything is perfect. Mostly because that’s the only option. If it’s not perfect, Neon Dreams won’t sign with the club and then I’ll have to find another breakout drink to add to the shimmery chaos of our Friday night parties.
However, I think after tonight, we’ll be just fine. Even without Zaden’s help in the VIP area, everything is going smoothly. The main floor pulses with bodies swaying to the beat, neon lights casting wild colors across their faces. Laughter and shoutsmingle with the music, a chaotic symphony that usually sets my blood thrumming with pride.
I weave through the crowd and make my way to the bar, the heart of the club’s energy. The bartenders are a blur of motion, shaking cocktails, pouring shots, and sliding drinks across the counter with practiced ease. The air smells of citrus and alcohol, cutting through the haze of sweat and perfume. Behind the bar, bottles of Neon Dreams line the shelves, their vibrant hues glowing under the blacklights. The shimmery margarita glasses are everywhere, clutched in hands as people laugh and clink them together, the liquid inside swirling like liquid starlight.
I lean over the counter, catching the eye of Jess, the head bartender. The Alpha’s hair is pulled back in a messy bun, her face flushed from the rush. “How’s it going back there?” I ask, raising my voice over the music.
She grins, wiping her hands on a towel. “Neon Dreams is flying off the shelves, boss. Everyone’s obsessed. They’re trying every color because, you know, flavors and shit. Mix ‘em together, and it’s like a damn light show in the glass. Under the blacklight? Even cooler.”
I nod, a grin tugging at my lips. “You tasted it yet?”
“Yeah, it’s not half bad,” she says, tossing a lime wedge into a shaker. “Sweet, but not overwhelming. The blue one’s got this berry kick people can’t get enough of. You should see ‘em, passing glasses around to compare.”
“Good,” I say, my chest swelling with satisfaction. Neon Dreams was a gamble, a new addition to the menu meant to keepAurum Pulseahead of the competition. Seeing it take off like this, lighting up the club in every sense, makes the sleepless nights worth it. I give Jess a quick nod and move on, my eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. The sponsors might doubt an Omega’s ability to run this place, but nights like this prove them wrong.
However, as I return to the chaos of the club, every nerve in my body goes on alert. Hands brush my arms, shoulders bump mine, each touch sending a jolt of irritation through me. My skin prickles, my instincts screaming to pull away, to protect the life growing inside me. It’s never been this hard before, this urge to shield my stomach, to curl in on myself and push everyone away. I fight the impulse to rest a hand on my belly, to soothe the faint flutter I’ve started to notice. Instead, I clench my fists, forcing a smile as I nod at familiar faces, their hellos blurring into the noise.
The air feels too warm, too thick, and a wave of lightheadedness washes over me. My steps falter, and I pause near one of the side stages, where a near-naked dancer spins around a pole, their body glistening under the lights. The crowd cheers, but the sound feels distant, muffled by the sudden pounding in my chest. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my temple, and I press a hand to my head, frowning. Something’s off. A flicker of fear sparks in my gut at the thought that something might be wrong with the baby.
It’s all in your head, Emilio. It’s fine.
Some water and sitting down will fix everything. It has to. I make my way to a quieter corner near the bar and grab a sealed bottle from a counter. The first sip is a relief, washing away the dryness in my throat while I lean against the wall, letting the cool surface steady me. Focusing on my breathing, I take a few more sips, intent on relaxing for a few more seconds before a tendril of heat spears through me.
My lids shoot open, my body suddenly alert. My breathing kicks up a little as I chug another gulp of water, whining when the heat starts to surge through me.Fuck.I take off toward the VIP lounge, praying one of the back rooms is available for me to disappear into until this feeling goes away.
The lights blur at the edges of my vision, my head spinning as I climb the steps to the VIP section. The security guard nods, unclipping the barrier without a word, and I slip through, the music fading slightly as I move deeper into the exclusive area. I find an empty room, the door already ajar, and stumble inside, barely making it through before my legs give out.
Dropping to my knees, I hold back the moan threatening to slip through my lips as my ass clenches around the butt plug I inserted earlier, the memory of Liam’s touch still lingering in my head. A horrid, desperate whine tears from my throat as I press a hand to my stomach. This feels like a heat but that’s impossible. I’m pregnant. My body shouldn’t be doing this. Tears gather in my eyes, blurring my vision further as panic claws at me. What’s happening?
A voice cuts through the haze. “What the fuck is going on?”
I twist my head, my breath hitching in my throat when I find Akira standing in the doorway. His usual cool detachment is gone, replaced by a frown that deepens as he takes me in. I try to speak, my voice shaking. “I don’t know. I just had some water, and then… oh my god.”
Akira steps closer, his expression darkening, my nostrils flaring with the onslaught of his whiskey and citrus scent. My body reacts before I can stop it, slick gushing around the plug as I let out another needy whine. My cheeks burn with humiliation, but I can’t help it, my instincts screaming for release. “I think something’s in the water,” I gasp, my voice breaking. “Fuck, I need to come.” I almost wrap my hand around my cock in my pants but the last shred of self-control keeps me from doing so.
I fall over onto my ass, groaning at the pressure in my pants as slick seeps out around the plug, wetting my pants. My hips thrust forward against my will, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. One or two more thrusts and I’ll be coming in my pants. I’ll never be able to live that down.
Akira’s frown deepens, his eyes narrowing at me. “Shit. Where did you get the water?”
I open my mouth to answer but find my words garbled as the heat surges through me, my body trembling with need. Akira crouches down and scoops me into his arms without further hesitation before lifting me against his chest. “I’m taking you out of here,” he says, a hint of urgency in his voice. “I guarantee the next Alpha who finds you won’t be as nice.”
My head lolls against his shoulder, the cool air hitting my face as he carries me toward the exit. The contrast to the club’s stifling heat is a shock, but it does nothing to dull the fire in my veins. I whine again, my body arching against him, and I hate how weak and desperate I sound. “What about your…” I start, but the words trail off, incoherent sounds twisting into one long moan.
“I’ll have someone figure it out,” Akira pushes out, his arms tightening around me. “You’re more important.”
I snort, the sound bitter despite the haze clouding my mind. “You never cared about me before.”
He glances down at me, his eyes unreadable. “That’s before I knew a few things.”
We reach his car, and he settles me in the passenger seat, my body vibrating with need as I clutch at the seatbelt. Another bout of slick pools around the plug, soaking through my pants, and I bury my face in my hands, mortified. Akira slides in beside me and pulls out his phone. “Liam, I need you at the house, now.”
I cling to Akira’s arm, another whine escaping as I rock forward, a humiliated gasp falling from my lips when my cock unloads in my pants. It’s not enough though. I’m still painfully hard, my body yearning for the Alpha beside me to fill me and fuck and knot me into oblivion.
Akira glances at me, his expression a mix of concern and something darker. “How are you in heat when you’re pregnant?”
I bury my face in his chest, tears burning my eyes as I try not to sob.
