Page 10 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
Which would probably be grounds for getting banned from the clinic.
“Yes, hugs are doctor’s orders. And heat services.”
Tension creeps back into my shoulders at the mention of using thoseservices. He gives me a kind smile and continues. “We have several options, and not all of them involve penetration, if you’re worried about that.”
Why did I have to tell him about that? I look down at my hands as my face flames so hard I’m worried I’m going to spontaneously combust. I’m only able to manage a weak “oh” in response.
He presses forward, doing his duty as a medical professional even though I’d rather be anywhere than having this sexy doctor calmly tell me about what my options are for heat sex. “Orgasms of any kind are effective at reducing cramps and discomfort. The main reason omegas book heat services instead of riding things out on their own with, uh, toys, is that heats affect your mental state as well. When you’re in the midst of a heat, your omega instincts override a lot of frontal lobe brain function—the part that employs logic and reason.”
My mouth falls open. “You’re telling me I revert to my lizard brain during my heat?”What kind of bullshit is that?
He laughs and I realize I said that thought out loud. “The kind of bullshit that promotes reproduction. Biological imperative is a bitch. As much as we try to distance ourselves from our animal nature, we can’t eradicate our base instincts. We can temper them, but ultimately, they will always be a part of us. Alphas can also fall into a similar state during an omega’s heat, but we take precautions with our heat minders to prevent ruts.”
Oh great. I wasn’t worried about a mindless alpha needingto bang my brains out, but now I certainly am. I dab at my sweaty forehead and let out a shaky exhale. “Okay, so I become horny and mindless. Why does that mean I can’t take care of things on my own?”
The more we talk about this, the less I want to do it. Unless it’s with him. Shit, maybe I’m already losing my mind just from being close to an alpha.
“If you try to satiate the urge to mate with your own touch or toys without the presence of others nearby, it can cause heat delirium or even make the pain more intense. Some omegas learn how to circumvent that through practice, but doing it for your first few heats would be… inadvisable.” He frowns for a moment, as if the thought of me enduring this alone is almost painful for him.
“What about if I don’t want to go into heat? Aren’t there drugs for that?” I ask with a slight grimace. Something inside me bristles at the idea of not getting knotted ASAP, but my rational side knows it’d be a more reasonable solution to this bizarre evening.
Ambrose sighs, giving me a sympathetic half smile. “There are a variety of heat suppressants that omegas can take. However, given the sudden onset of your heat, most of those options won’t be effective. Along with that, the risk of adverse side-effects from heat suppressants increases the longer it takes for an omega to reveal.
“You can just say I can’t take them because I’m too old. I know I’m a freak.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not a freak. Every body is different and being a statistical outlier doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. Besides, even if you were younger, I’d be hesitant to recommend most fast-acting suppressants because of research that’s come out in the last few years about potential issues with that class of drugs.”
I vaguely recall seeing a few articles about that now that he’s mentioned it, but I didn’t pay them a ton of attention. “Guess I’m doing this the old-fashioned way, then.”
Ambrose looks like he wants to chuckle at my dejected tone, but keeps a straight face. “Like I said, there are plenty of options and accommodations with our heat services. We do everything in our power to make the experience as pleasant and comfortable as possible—you get to decide what partners you want, and what your limits are. We do regular testing for STIs, have birth control designed specifically for heats, and have medical staff like myself on hand 24/7.”
“So you don’t, uh, participate?”
Fuck me, why did I say that?
Ambrose’s eyes widen and there’s a flicker of something heated in his gaze before he coughs and schools his expression. “No. I’ve never…”
“Shit, I’m so sorry. You probably have a bonded omega at home. Please forgive me, I think my brain is already clouding with lust and you’re so handsome and kind and—oh god, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tell you how hot I think you are. I need to stop talking. Why can’t I shut up? Is that part of the heat? Am I delirious already?”
Ambrose takes a step closer and for a second I think he’s going to haul me into his arms and ravish me, but he places a steady hand on my shoulder. “Camille, you don’t need to apologize. I don’t have an omega, and under different circumstances—” He clears his throat and his eyes flick back to his clipboard, a hint of a flush reddening his fawn complexion. “I mean to say that, it would be unprofessional…”
He swallows heavily and I watch his throat work with an intense need to press my lips to it. It smells like a goddamn coffee shop in here from how much scent I’m putting off.
Perfuming. Such a delicate name for stinking up thingsbecause I’m horny. I wish they’d install some kind of vent in here, so I don’t choke my doctor with the scent of my need.
Ambrose inhales and groans softly, no doubt thinking the same thing, then steps back. “I’m incredibly flattered that such a lovely omega would be interested in me.”
Oh god, kill me now. That’s almost as bad as “it’s not you, it’s me.” Logically, I know he’s being a professional, and of course he can’t fuck his patient, but there’s a strong part of me that feels rejected.
If this is going to be how I feel every time an eligible alpha isn’t into me, I’ll scream. It’s taken me almost all of my forty years to gain the confidence to not care about what men, and especially alpha men, think of me.
Being older is supposed to mean I don’t need to give a fuck anymore. Not that I want to curl up and cry because a stranger doesn’t drop professional protocol and bang me.
Unaware of my pathetic, aggravated thoughts, he keeps talking. “Though I have a feeling that it has more to do with the intense hormones of your first heat than any serious attraction.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish, endearing way that turns me on. Everything about Ambrose turns me on.
Damn, maybe he’s right. My wounded omega stops freaking out as much at his words. I don’t need his dick—though I bet it’s really nice. My traitorous eyes drop to his crotch, and I find, to my delight and confusion, that he’s hard. The obscenely long bar of his erection pressing against his pants makes my mouth water.
I shouldn’t stare at him like this, but I can’t stop.
