Chapter 6 #2
How I’ve obtained a set of spare keys for his office isn’t something I’m exactly proud of.
Did I text the department’s receptionist’s husband a photo of my dick and then reply “oops that was meant for your wife”? Maybe?
But desperate times call for desperate measures. And right now, I feel really fucking desperate.
Did I feel bad when she got a phone call from him yelling at her, causing her to rush out of there in a fit of sobs, leaving her office unattended, giving me the chance to snatch a set of master keys?
Nope. I saw the way she was looking at Beckham in the halls last week. Bitch was thirsty for my omega’s cock.
Well fuck her. That’s my fucking cock. She can fuck right off.
Enjoy your detour, Lydia.
Making sure no one’s around, I quickly unlock the door and slip into the room.
I’m immediately smacked in the face with Beckham’s intense honey and vanilla scent. My eyes roll back and a deep guttural groan rumbles in my chest. “Fucking hell.” I nearly cum in my pants.
My cock is so damn fucking hard right now, I could probably brush my hand against it and blow my load.
Leaning against the door, I try to get my breathing under control, only every time I take a breath, I nearly lose my damn mind.
Blinking my eyes open, I look around, nostrils flaring. For a moment, his scent is so strong, I thought he might be in here.
But to my disappointment, the room is empty. Might be a good thing, because I know for a fact if he was in here, I’d be going into a rut and fucking everything up.
Body humming, I shake my head, trying to think straight. There’s not much use in trying because all I want to do is find my omega and fuck him. Sink my teeth into him and make him mine. Get him on his knees and begging for my cock over and over again.
“Fuckkk.” I groan, dropping the bags to the floor and pushing myself off the door as I adjust myself.
Looking around the room, I don’t find anything special about it. It’s a typical desk, chair, shelfs, filing cabinet, and this sad as fuck looking plant in the corner.
Frowning, I walk over to it and scoff. Fake. And not a good fake plant. Is that supposed to be a Lady Palm? Pathetic.
I’ll try not to judge him too hard. But I do plan on replacing that imposter with the real deal.
My eyes drift around the room and I frown. This isn’t telling me anything about my omega. How am I supposed to weasel my way into his heart, if I can’t find anything to use in my favor?
Making my way over to his desk, I take a seat in his chair and groan. His smell is so much stronger here.
Apart from some pens, blank papers, and what I think is a paper weight, there’s nothing on his desk. I was hoping for a desktop computer I could hack into but I guess he does everything on his laptop.
Fuck. This little field trip is looking like it’s a bust.
That is until I spot something on the ground next to the desk. Bending over, I pick it up and grin like an idiot. Looks like Beckham forgot his scarf. Oh well, mine now.
Bringing it closer to my eyes, I lean back and bring the fabric up to my nose. Like a perfect line of coke, I inhale deep and slow. His scent is like a hit right to the nervous system.
“Oh god.” I choke out, my eyes rolling back. With my free hand, I quickly pop open my jean’s buttons and yank the zipper down before freeing my cock.
The moment my hand is wrapped around my shaft, I start to jerk off like my life depends on it.
Nose still buried in the scarf, I keep taking deep breaths, breathing him in over and over again.
I feel like I’m on cloud fucking nine, pleasure coursing through my veins, body on fire. Fucking electric jabs right to my balls and knot.
My mind goes right to Beckham on his knees, lips wrapped around my cock as he looks up at me with those piercing blue eyes, tears run down his cheeks while I fuck his face, making him gag over and over again. Owning him. Because I can.
“Mine,” I growl, practically strangling my cock as my grip grows tighter.
“My sexy omega. My good boy. Mine. Mine. Mine.” The last word comes out as a broken growl as my body stiffens and my orgasm crashes into me.
A few ropes of cum hit my shirt before I angle my cock forward, sending the rest of my release all over Beckham’s desk.
I watch as I paint the mahogany desk in white until there’s nothing left inside me.
Chest heaving, I admire my work with a smug as fuck smile on my face.
Getting to my feet, I tuck myself away then grab the scarf and wrap it around my neck. I’ll be keeping this.
I look back at his desk and with my finger, I draw a smiley face and chuckle.
Knowing I’m not going to get any information on him here, I grab the bags and lock up before leaving.
It wasn’t all for nothing. I got myself a little souvenir and left one of my own.
And I’m not sharing it! If they try to take my scarf, I’ll fucking strangle them with it. It’s mine. Only mine. They can get their own omega treasure.
For now, It’s enough to settle my alpha urges, but it won’t be long before I need another hit. And this time, I want one right from the source.
TATUM
It’s been a goddamned week! I’m fuming, and so fucking angry. My omega is extremely lucky I can’t find him. Otherwise, his ass would be bright red from my hand spanking it while Alaric fucks his face.
Mmmm. Together, we could edge him for hours.
As it is, I’m losing my mind. I’m worried my omega is actually hurt, and have been regularly hacking into the hospital websites to check for his name.
I’m not sure how to feel when there are no records of him being in the hospital. All I can imagine this means is that he’s fine. Why is he hiding from us?
I have so many questions, and none of them have answers.
I found where he lives, and he hasn’t been there in days. Beckham lives with his father, which means I have to be very careful when I drive through the area. I can’t get caught.
There are too many rules and restrictions clawing at me, and it’s making me want to do something reckless. I’ve been picking up more fights, worrying my dad as I beat the fuck out of everyone in the ring. My anger knows no bounds right now.
Alaric keeps telling me that we need to be patient, but that’s just a front. Jamie’s asshole and mine are red and swollen from the amount of aggression our alpha has, and as I lick my lips, I can feel how puffy they are from Jamie face fucking me this morning.
Something has to give. None of us are coping well. There’s only so much that we can take.
I hate that he’s taking the knowledge of our scent matching so badly.
I know he enjoys teaching, but he hasn’t been to the school either.
There’s a substitute teacher taking over his classes, stating that the professor is taking some time off to handle some things.
There are whispers of a mental health breakdown, and that worries me.
It makes me want to scream ‘what things’? We aren’t going to simply disappear or stop being his scent matches. He could reject us, and we’d still never stop searching him out. We’ve been obsessed since the first day we saw him.
There’s no take-backs. He will be ours, I just need to figure out what put that fear in his blue eyes. That wasn’t natural, and I have a feeling it wasn’t personal. It still never fails to hurt though when I remember the haunted look in his gaze.
Sitting across from a motel, I blow out a breath in frustration. Beckham used his credit card near here twenty minutes ago, so I am systematically checking the entire area before I head home. I refuse to go back until I find something.
Parking my bike, I rub my chest as it fucking aches with pain. I just need to see his face, smell his scent. Anything to remind me that he’s ours.
Climbing off, I set my helmet on the seat, looking around. This is a shit part of town, and I want to shudder as I think about the filth that might be staying here.
Leaving my bike across the street to maintain my anonymity, I cross the street into the parking lot. There are a lot of run down vehicles here, along with a mix of fancy cars. I bet that people can rent rooms by the hour here too.
Opening the door to the front lobby, I struggle not to wrinkle my nose at the large beta behind the desk gazing down at his phone. One of his hands is hidden from view, and I have a feeling he might be stroking himself.
I’m all for self care, but this is a little much.
Clearing my throat, I gaze down at the man who is in fact watching porn. I can hear the obnoxious moans and wails as multiple people get railed on his screen in front of him.
“Yeah?” He grunts, his eyes flicking up at me. “I don’t have any rooms, and I’m a little busy here.”
I’m not sure if he’s telling me the truth, or if he’s lying so that he can finish fucking his tiny dick with his fist. Either way, I’m very unhappy with his answer.
Rolling my eyes, I pull out some money and peel off two hundred dollar bills and place them on the counter.
“I’m looking for someone.” I grunt, tracking his gaze as he glances at the money and then at me.
“Look harder,” he mutters. “I told you I’m busy. Do you mind? I need some privacy.”
This motherfucker…
Putting my money away slowly, including what’s on the counter, I pull my gun out and point it at his lap.
“I think you’re done, don’t you?” I ask, turning off the safety.
My finger hovers over the trigger while I raise my brow in question.
“I need to find an omega that might be staying here. Are you going to help me or scream like a bitch without his cock when I shoot you? I suggest you think really hard about that.”
“Fuck,” the beta complains, pulling out his hand. There’s a white substance all over it, showing that he’s already come. Gross. “I was trying to compete for an award.”
“Do it on your own time.” I sneer, watching as he pulls out wet wipes to clean up his hand and turns off the porn. “Do you want the guy’s description or not?”