Page 78 of Heat & Deceit
“You’re a fucking liar,” I snarl, shoving his chest. “I need—my friend needs them.”
“It’s not possible.”
Is he serious right now? He’s so set on proving I’m an omega, he’s going to refuse to sell me the pills.
I turn to storm out, but he catches my wrist, spinning me around and crushing me to his chest. He buries his nose against my neck again and breathes in, making gooseflesh pebble over my skin. A frustrated growl rumbles in his chest when he still can’t find my scent, and he moves his mouth to the shell of my ear.
“Why don’t you have a scent?” His fingers flex around my wrist and his hard body presses into mine.
My core clenches and my stomach flutters. “Why do you care if I have one?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” he says, nudging my cheek with his. “What are you hiding?”
I shiver again but manage to slap my palm to his chest and push. He instantly releases me. Seething, I take a step back. “Fuck you, Rome.”
He frowns and drops his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Then, sell me the pills.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I snarl.
He shrugs and looks away, eyes taking on that distant look once more. I guess he’s not going to answer me. Fine. I don’t need his help. I’ll figure something else out.
Twenty-Two
NOVA
Pissed. Panicked. Disappointed. Humiliated.
Those words come to mind every time I think about the way Rome tried to find my scent. I’m annoyed that part of me enjoyed him trying to find it. I’m so mad at him for refusing to sell me those pills. Is this his way of forcing me to expose myself as an omega?
I only have two heat-suppressant pills left. If I can’t get the pills from Rome, I’ll find them myself. Which is why I’m dressed for the club, when I’d rather be in bed. I work the early shift tomorrow, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I finish putting on my mascara and look myself over. A short, sparkly dress. Heels that are dangerous to walk in, unless you have years of experience. This outfit would’ve been considered modest at the strip club, but for the average person, it’s skimpy. I’ve put on some weight since—thank fuck—and while I love my new figure, my boobs are practically spilling out of the low-cut top.
When in doubt, let the tits hang out.
It’s amazing what a healthy dose of cleavage can do.
My phone chirps, alerting me that the car I called is a minute away. I grab my clutch and tuck my phone into it before locking up and heading to the elevator. A guy on my floor does a double take when he exits, mouth dropping open. I avert my gaze and step into the elevator. This outfit definitely doesn’t help me blend in, but it’s one night.
* * *
Forty minutes later, I’m inside the city’s hottest club. My arms are still freezing from waiting in line, but the heat from all the writhing bodies is slowly seeping into my system. I ease through the crowd, half-dancing and half-searching for a dealer. They’re always out and about. You only need to know what to look for.
The slight grasping of hands as the drugs are exchanged.
Stone-faced betas.
Eyes that see money rather than humans.
There, a guy leaning against a wall with an otherwise unbothered expression. He bobs his head to the beat, but his hand dips into his pocket, and he holds out a small packet of white powder by his thigh. The chick off to the side stumbles into him, but it’s all for show. Her hands grasp the packet, and the guy grabs the money in her other hand.
As soon as she leaves, I weave through the crowd as the beat begins to race. The crowd screams, waiting for the drop that’ll send everyone into a frenzy. My jaw clenches as the scent of sweat and lust and alcohol twine around me. The guy glances in my direction, and the edge of his mouth lifts, knowing I’m coming for him.
I press against the wall next to him and stare out at the mass of people. The music is frantic, but it suddenly cuts out, only a faint thumping bass filling the club. Everyone starts to shout, like that’ll hurry the music along, and right when I think they’re about to get pissed, a heavy drop rips through the club and the lights flick off. Strobes of all different colors flash, distorting movements but matching the beat perfectly.
“What are you looking for, babe?”
