Page 12 of Omega's Forbidden Heat
He peers across the table at her. “You were very drunk last night.” His jaw works and she can see he wants to say more. He shakes his head, then meets her eye. “What are you doing, Amy? Do you have a death wish or something? Getting that wasted… Getting into a taxi alone. Without blockers.” There is anger in his voice. She can’t help her own rising to meet his.
“Exactly why are you here, Jack?” she snaps, “I don’t think an Alpha should be in an Omega’s home. I don’t think an Alpha should be making an Omega breakfast. And would you care to explain why the hell I stink of your scent this morning.”
He glares at her. “I had to carry you to bed. You could barely walk.”
Her cheeks burn. She lowers her gaze to her plate of food. He takes a deep breath, lowering his fork and blows out, seeming to puff away the tension between the two of them. Or maybe it is her scent. “Look, I am sorry about the other day.” He scrubs his hand across his face. “It took me by surprise.” He picks up his knife and fork, then lowers them again. “Finn told me about your parents. I’m sorry about that too. It is really shitty.”
With her fork, she pushes the rubbery egg around her plate. “What, my dad questioning whether he’s actually my dad, being responsible for my mum’s heartbreak, yeah not shitty at all.” She feels a sob building and swallows it away, shaking her head. “And at the same time, having to come to terms with what I am.” Her lips curl in disgust at the last few words.
“There’s nothing wrong with what you are,” Jack says. The force in his voice causes her to look up at him. “But the other stuff, with your parents, I mean, like I said, it’s shitty. I am sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you.”
She holds his gaze for a long time, unsure of his motivations and his feelings. Should she forgive him? How could she not?
Finally, he pulls his eyes away from hers, with what she is surprised to suspect is reluctance, and returns to his breakfast. She does the same, the imprint of his bright blue eyes hovering across her vision.
There is something about an Alpha’s eyes. Hypnotic, mesmerising, capturing. They are the eyes of a predator drawing in unsuspecting prey. The draw of an Alpha’s eyes, the intensity of them, the depth of them, wheels her in, draws her closer. It’s something she’s noticed since her Omega designation became clear. She’s learned to avoid meeting the eye of an Alpha.
Jack Johnson’s eyes are no different. She’s always thought them beautiful, nearly all the girls at school would have agreed, but she’s not seen them since she presented as an Omega, now they are something else altogether. She could get lost in those eyes, drown in their blue watery depths.
She lifts her fork to her mouth and takes a bite of the bright yellow egg. “Mmmm this is delicious,” she says with her mouth full, holding a hand in front of her lips. “Where did you learn to make these?”
“One thing Americans do well is breakfast. My cousin taught me how to make eggs properly.”
“Cousin?” she says, keeping her eyes fixed on the plate so he can’t see the desperate need she has for any scraps of information about his life.
“Yeah, cousin. The one I was staying with in London.” He lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a long gulp of tea.
“So you’re going back to London, then?” she says, unable to stop her brow from creasing, hoping the disappointment isn’t clear in her tone.
“No, I am not going back. I am not sure what I’m gonna do yet. But I’m not going back to London.”
“Why?” she asks in confusion.
“I don’t know. I didn’t feel like I belonged there.”
“Oh,” she crinkles up her nose, thinking, “But you’re leaving Losworth. You don’t think you belong here either?”
He coughs and she can’t help her eyes from flipping to his face. She can tell by the look on his face she’s caught him out here.
“I don’t know.” A flicker of pain plays across his face and her heart momentarily aches for him. She bites her lip and nods. Her heart suddenly fluttering all over again.
He runs his hand through his hair, then stands.
“I better be going. My aunt is coming in to help me today.” He glances at his watch. “She’s probably already there.”
Amy hesitates, deciding in that moment, and stands too, following his large form down the hallway, pausing by the door as he creaks it open.
“Or you could stay,” she says, leaning against the wall, her hands resting behind her back. Light spills in through the crack in the doorway along with the cool breeze, whistling down the hallway and slamming shut the kitchen door with a bang. Her scent swells in the air, blustered about by the wind, swooping between the two of them, wild and untamed, There is no doubt he knows what she is offering him.
His eyes lock on her. “No,” he says quietly, the knuckles of his hand so close to her they nearly brush the jut of her hip. “No, I’ve got to go.” But he doesn’t. He doesn’t go. He remains in the hallway, his fingers grazing the doorknob.
She leans her shoulders into the wall and her hips drift forwards towards him, his eyes dropping to her groin and lingering there, then falling to the hem of her dress, skimming against her bare legs.
Jack Johnson has never noticed her before. All those years, he looked straight through her, never seeing her, never properly seeing her.
But now he does. Now his eyes are trained on her. And he sees her alright. It makes every nerve in her body sing and heats her blood, the gland on the back of her neck throbbing in a way she’s never known before. He must know all this from her scent. She watches as the darkness of his pupils swallow up the blue of his irises, like night claiming day, and she feels her knees tremble, her lips parting as her breath morphs to needy pants.
“Omega, I can’t stay. We both know that.”
