Page 19 of Knot My Band: Part One
We move into one of our songs, and the crowd loses some enthusiasm, but Oli still puts her whole heart into it.
During our second to last song, one of Oli’s sexiest, she comes over to me for our move.
Oli spins around and strides right up to me, her eyes locked on mine with a fierceness that makes my cock hard. Her hand reaches out, fingers grazing my forearm before she tugs me closer, so close our noses nearly touch.
We sing the next line of the song into the microphone together.
Her lips part, hovering a hair’s breadth from mine, and I can feel her breath mingling with my own. The tension between us crackles, alive with the possibility of an almost kiss that sends the crowd into a frenzy. I can hear their whoops and hollers, but they’re distant background noise.
The single most incredible scent I have ever experienced in my whole life invades my senses.
Ripe strawberries, vanilla, cream, sugar, and graham crackers come together like the sweetest strawberry cheesecake—my mouth waters, dying for a bite of the decadent scent.
My cock is hard in a second as one thought infiltrates my mind.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Oli is my scent match. My fingers twitch, itching for the feel of her skin, while my chest vibrates with a newfound purpose.
The axis of my world shifts, putting her at the center. I would do anything for this omega. She has no idea the devotion she has just pulled from me. I’ll be a beast for her to control however she likes.
Her eyes widen before she backs away, and I miss my cue to start playing guitar again.
Dax covers for me until I start playing again as if my whole world didn’t just change.
Oli has been using scent blockers this whole time, as we all have, which means that this is the first time I’ve smelledher. It only happened because we were on stage while she was sweating and couldn’t reapply.
My mind races while we finish the concert.
I need to be near her. Touching her. Protecting her.
The urge to mark her, to mix my scent with hers until we’re indistinguishable, is almost overpowering.
The final chords of her song vibrate through the air, and she takes her bow as she’s lowered under the stage. I throw my guitar down, something I would have considered a sin before this moment, and I’m on my feet backstage before I even realize it, the applause around me a mere backdrop to the thunderous beating of my own heart.
Where is she?
I’m about to force my way under the stage to get to her, pushing past two alpha security guards, but Chase shoves my chest back.
“What the fuck, Jack? Why do you look feral?” Chase snaps.
I growl and shove him back, about to try again when she finally appears. She comes up the stairs from under the stage, and I’m on her immediately, without hesitation.
Olive Hart is my mate. If I thought I was going to be obsessed with her before, it has nothing on the obsession I feel after catching her scent.
And once the rest of my pack smells her? We are all fucked.
Oli
OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN
OLI HART ROCKS DENVER AND MAKES FANS GO CRAZY WITH HER PERFORMANCE
March 30th
Ifinish the final chord and wave to everyone in the stadium.
“Thank you, goodnight!” I call out, my voice a mix of honey and gravel, worn from belting lyrics but still dripping with energy.
