46. Callisto
Chapter forty-six
Callisto
I sink onto the edge of the bathtub with a groan. The image of Red riding my best friend burns behind my eyeballs, a scene I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. I didn’t mean to look, but their door was wide open. Backlit by brilliant natural light, Red shone with an ethereal quality, her hair pure scarlet.
And Ricky, holy shit! He looked vulnerable and powerful at the same time, and I don’t even know how that’s possible.
Even if I could forget the sight, their cries filter out from the bedroom to caress my ears in a constant chain of silky noises. My once-quiet house now fills with moans of ecstasy.
I glance down between my spread legs. “What are we gonna do about this, my pal?”
My cock’s straining to hear every muted scream, twitching every time Red calls for her alpha—like we should be obeying her. That could have been me in there with them, if I hadn’t fucked up so royally.
But I chose my job instead. I jiggle one leg anxiously, because even now the compulsion to work rides me hard. Taking a few hours off during the day is so contrary to everything I’ve been doing my entire career. And I’ve fallen behind in my case load. My phone’s full of messages from clients waiting for updates.
I jump as a thump against the wall sounds. It’s followed by giggles.
“Dammit!” I moan, leaning my fist against the cold tiles.
Red makes no effort to silence her satisfied cries, and the entrancing noises flow through my ears and straight to my cock.
With a groan, I unzip my pants and free the beast bucking between my thighs. Between the image burned into my brain and those noises, I’m harder than I’ve ever been. Is this the power of an omega? I stroke my twitching length, feeling heat gather below the skin.
Red oozes sexual confidence. Her body’s made to draw the eye, and those bare legs spread over Ricky went on for miles.
I pant softly and rub harder. But Ricky, in that corset with his shirt front open across the top and falling back, his bare thighs rubbing into her, wearing a G-string of all things—he’s a wild card I never expected.
“Shit!” I ball up my free hand and press it to my mouth to stifle my groan. Spreading my legs wider, I imagine they’re here with me, Rickon taking Red up against the wall, pale palms sliding against these very tiles. If he held her from behind, I could slide in around them and—
Red screams, shouting Rickon’s name.
My orgasm hits me hard without warning. I tip my head back, choking down a shout as I grip my shuddering cock. Cum spurts into my hand, some spilling over to drip on the floor. For a moment I’m blinded by the hot flashes of ecstasy.
It fades slowly, leaving me panting on the edge of a cold bathtub. “You’re screwed in the head, Callisto,” I murmur to my reflection in the vanity mirror. Masturbating to the noises of my best friend and his omega? Maybe I’d better find him another apartment, quickly.
The idea causes a fresh flurry of painful sensation to land square in my chest. Rather than examine it too closely, I jump to my feet to clean myself and the floor with wipes from under the sink.
Better not to think too deeply. I’m barely here at the house anyway, and this way I know they’re both safe.
I stride to the front door and gather my keys and wallet off the hall table. I have a win streak to maintain. Only ten more cases, and I’ll be in the running to become a partner at the firm; I’m sure of it.
This goal has always inspired me, given me a powerful drive to push forward.
So why, as I lock up and take the elevator, do I feel like crying this time?