Page 24 of Omega's Forbidden Heat
Taking a deep inhale, she stands, and shoves her phone back inside her pocket, then bracing her shoulders, she unbolts the door and walks out. She doesn’t make eye contact with the other women, marching to the sink and pushing down on the tap’s button until a gush of water comes bursting forth. She forces herself to wash her hands slowly, examining her reflection in the mirror. The silence in the toilet thrums in her ears, the base from the club thudding more loudly through the bathroom walls, the floor vibrating in sync, and a score of eyes burn into her.
She shakes her hands over the sink, droplets of water hitting the mirror and the girl to her right. Then slowly and deliberately, she thrusts her hand into the pocket of her jeans and hooks out her lipstick, plucking off the lid with a pop, and twisting the base until the scarlet paste appears. The hot eyes are watching her, and the silence continues. Amy bends into the mirror and smears the blood red over her lips, mashing her mouth together and leaning in further to plant a kiss on the smooth plane of the mirror. As she tilts away, she locks eyes with the other girls in the bathroom and lifts her chin.
“I’d rather be a whore than a bunch of back-stabbing bitches,” she says with all the vile she can muster, and then she strides out, releasing her breath as she steps out of the overly perfumed bathroom and into the club. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the murkiness and then she searches for Georgia. Her friend leans right into the man now, and Amy skirts around the perimeter of the club, finding a spot to huddle against the wall where she has a view across the club and can search through the crowds for someone to hang out with.
Tonight on the dance floor of the club, there are a handful of girls, loud and dramatic, trying their best to attract the attention of everyone around them. And it’s working. Several men hang around the edge of their group, clearly interested. Then there’s a couple who stepped off the dance floor a moment ago and are now engaged in an animated conversation, both their hands flailing around their heads.
Her eyes flip towards Georgia. The guy is someone they know from their lectures. She can see they’ve moved to a corner, locked in a kiss. She sighs; a pang of jealousy stabbing in her chest. Dating has become more complicated since she presented as an Omega. At first it gained her a lot of unwanted attention from guys who thought she’d be an easy lay or were curious to find out what being with an Omega was like. She couldn’t walk through the university halls without some guy whispering some seedy shit in her ear, or trying to grope her arse. Before her presentation, she had a string of boyfriends but now she’s wary of men, avoiding them if she’s honest. Still, she misses that intimate company. She’d like someone, someone special, someone who would wrap their arms around her, hold her like that man is holding Georgia.
There’s no point in staying at the club. Anna left half an hour ago, complaining of a headache. There’s no one else in here she knows.
She’s made her mind up to leave when she catches the first whiff. The club smells of sweaty bodies and sticky alcohol. It is an unpleasant stench that catches at the back of her throat. But now, above both those smells, is that all too familiar scent. Deep, rich and masculine.
It can’t be though, can it? What would he be doing here?
The scent grows stronger. These days, she trusts her nose more than her ears, more than her eyes, perhaps even more than her rational thoughts, and her nose tells her that he is here. It makes the hairs on her arms rise and her gland tingle.
She scans the packed space. The ceilings are low and the lighting dark but she has a strong idea in which direction he must be and she peers over heads and through bodies, spotting him at the far side of the club with Finn. As soon as she finds his face in the crowd, he finds her too, and those piercing blue eyes of his meet hers. For a moment times seems to pause, and she swears she can feel an electricity passing through the air and prickling her skin. He looks away, slapping her brother on the shoulder and whispering into his ear.
No. It’s not going to work like that anymore. Jack Johnson is not going to ignore her. She won’t let him. He must have smelled her. He must have been looking for her too.
She pushes her way through the other people, swerving in and out of the dancers and reaches the two of them. Jack has his back to her, but she can tell he senses her drawing closer, can read it in the line of his shoulders and tilt of his head. He remains, however, resolute, determined to face away.
“What are you doing here?” she says, as Finn spies her and draws her in for a hug.
He motions towards Jack with his head. “I thought it was about time I got him out. What are you doing here? Bit old school for your taste, isn’t it?”
“It’s two-for-one on cocktails for ladies before nine.”
Finn raises his eyebrows and she laughs.
“I am not drinking tonight,” she tells him. “It was Anna’s idea. But she obviously had too many of those cocktails because now she’s had to go home. She’s not feeling very well.”
“Who else you here with?” Finn asks.
“Georgia but she’s off somewhere snogging some guy. I was just about to leave, actually.”
“You might as well stay and have a drink with us,’’ he tells her. He turns to Jack. “Your round mate. I’ll have a pint.”
“Right,” Jack says stiffly, his hands buried in his pockets. He jerks his chin towards her. “How about you, Amy?”
“Oh,” she says, flashing him a smile. “A lime and soda, please.”
He nods and stalks off, and she scowls at his retreating back. “Doesn’t seem like he wants to be here.”
“Yeah, I kinda dragged him. I thought it would do him some good.”
He comes to stand by her side and together they watch the dancers.
Then her brother seems to spot someone across the dance floor and waves, and a curvy blonde makes her way over.
“Hey Finn,” the woman says, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. “I didn’t think you were coming here tonight.”
“I changed my mind,” he replies, and Amy’s pretty sure he gives the woman a sly wink. “This is my little sister, Amy.” He gestures with his arm in her direction.
The woman smiles at Amy, holding out her hand. “Rebecca.”
“Nice to meet you,” Amy says, shaking her palm. “How do you know my brother?”
