Page 18 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
Laundry will have to wait a while longer. I pile it back intothe basket, grabbing one of my favorite worn out hoodies, and the shirt I worked out in earlier. Then go back and grab a pair of briefs for good measure.
Omegas like to put things saturated with their pack’s pheromones in their nest. While I’m only temporarily serving as part of this omega’s pack, it might help them feel more secure in their nest for their heat. Even if my scent isn’t as potent since I’m a beta.
Clearly, the omega liked my scent enough to choose me, so it doesn’t hurt to bring some moreeau du Jacksonalong with me.
Just gotta make sure none of the items smell like Dahlia. One time I made the mistake of bringing a hoodie I’d worn while cuddling with her and the omega wasnothappy.
The girl in question lets out a sleepy grumble from my bed as I move around my bedroom, shoving things into my work bag. She doesn’t wake up, which is good because they want me at the clinic ASAP, so I don’t have time to explain to her what’s going on. I’ll ask River to take care of her. And of course I’ll make it up to her when I get back.
I jot down a quick note on the whiteboard we keep in the kitchen, letting them know I got an urgent job and will be gone and incommunicado for a few days. Once that’s squared away, I grab a twelve-pack of my favorite protein shakes and some of those electrolyte pouches you can add to water.
I’m picky about what I put in my body, and the stuff they provide at the clinic isn’t as good as what I buy. I know it’s vain, but I’m not losing any of the muscle mass I bust my ass for because I’m not getting enough calories while I’m working.
With all the essentials packed, I secure the bag to my bike and hit the road.
By the time I pull into a staff spot and cut the engine, myexcitement about working has morphed into trepidation and a fuckton of questions.
I don’t normally stress this much, but then again, I’ve never helped an omega through their first heat.
The omegas I’ve been with know what to expect. They’re experienced. There was only one time when I hadn’t met the omega before their heat—all the other omegas have done interviews with me to assess our compatibility in person before their upcoming heat.
The young, inexperienced ones who typically have an emergency first heat situation don’t want some thirty-five-year-old beta as a heat minder.
God, another reason for me to be nervous. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it up for some terrified, barely out of high-school omega. I don’t know if Iwantto be able to get it up for them.
I suck in a deep breath as I take off my helmet and get my bag, giving myself an internal pep talk as I head toward the employee entrance.
Calm down, dude. Even if they’re young, or you can’t get hard, or whatever, you can do this. You’re there to help them, and it’s not being a creep to help an omega in need.
When I first applied for the job, I assumed the only reason they hired me was because of my connection to Ambrose. I doubted anyone would select a beta when presented with a veritable buffet of eager alphas ready to take care of their needs.
My experiences at the omega clinic have proven me dead wrong.
Sure, I’m not an average omega's top choice. But there are a lot of omegas who don’t feel safe going through their heat with a strange alpha, no matter how well-vetted by the clinic they are.
I’m their best option in those situations. A big, beefy beta who can give them all the marathon banging and snuggles they need, while being non-threatening.
Plus, I’ve learned to be pretty damn handy with a fake knot and all the toys heat services provide.
Who needs an alpha when you’ve got a beta like me?
I shake my head at the cocky thought that I wish I believed. It’s close to the affirmations my therapist has me doing daily. Maybe someday they’ll actually work.
For now, I’ll have to make do knowing that Daisy wouldn’t have presented me as an option to the omega if she didn’t think I could handle it. Besides, I’m paired up with Theresa, who has some experience with first heats, and we work really well together. I call us the O-Team, because we’re so good at making omegas come.
Plastering on my best easygoing smile, I swipe my badge and head inside. Daisy is waiting right by the entrance, startling me a little when she exclaims my name as soon as she sees me.
“Jackson! You’re here. Amazing. Perfect.” The buxom ball of sunshine lets out a gusty exhale, clearly relieved.
“I think your pack might be a little jealous about how excited you are to see me, Daisy,” I chuckle, keeping my tone light despite her weird energy.
“You know I’d love to stand around and flirt with you, sugar, but time is of the essence. I need to brief you on the omega you’ll be servicing.” She starts off down the hallway to her office. When I don’t immediately follow, she huffs. “Well, come on.”
My brow furrows. “Shouldn’t we wait for Theresa?”
Daisy shakes her head. “She can’t make it. Sick with a nasty stomach bug. We’ll talk in my office.”
Stomach twisting with nerves again, I followDaisy into her cheery office filled with potted plants and cute little knick knacks. I tap the little cat bobblehead on her desk as I slide into the seat across from her desk, watching it wiggle as I try to collect myself before Daisy notices how anxious I am.
