7. Casey
SEVEN
Casey
Casey
I can’t believe this is happening.
Of all the scenarios that ran through my head when I pictured meeting Marshall’s father, being so insanely attracted to him I could barely function wasn’t on the list. I would rather he hated me and threw me out of the house.
That would be easier to deal with. The fact that I was laying in bed, hours later, my skin still flushed and my cock painfully hard, made everything worse.
Marshall was already asleep, completely unaware of my problems, as he should be.
My life would be ruined if he knew how hot and bothered I was just thinking about his dad.
His tall, sexy, muscled, Alpha dad. I wanted that big, burly man to pick me up, shove me against the wall, and have his cock inside me before my pants were fully down my legs.
What the fuck, Casey. The thought entered my mind and left before it could have any effect.
God, I couldn’t think straight around him.
I couldn’t stop the ideas, the images swirling in my head.
I never had fantasies or daydreams about sex, but now…
I could see everything. The way I wanted him to touch me.
Exactly how I longed to touch him. Smelling that rich, earthy scent of his with his cock deep inside me.
Just thinking about it, picturing him here with me, and all the things he could do to my body, made my cock throb to the point of pain.
I had to fight this. I had to put it behind me.
If this continued, I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.
My head knew the drill: forget this ever happened and move on. My dick, however, did not get the memo. I stared down at the obvious blanket tent that was doing nothing to hide my boner. I had to deal with it, or I wouldn’t get any sleep.
Marshall rolled over just as I was about to reach under the blankets. He lifted his head from the pillow, his eyes creeping open with a yawn. Still half-asleep, he yanked my blanket off and had my pajama pants pulled down before I could protest. My cock slapped against his wrist once it was free.
“Marsh, you don’t…” The second his hand closed around the base of my cock, my entire body went rigid, and my back arched towards his touch.
“Oh fuck. Yes, god, make me cum.” He stroked me all the way up, a slow, tortuous journey that had my thighs trembling.
Wet slick trickled onto the sheets. My ass was so wet, it was almost uncomfortable.
I sucked in a deep breath, and his scent invaded my senses. Unbidden images appeared in my mind again. His thick hands. The freckles dotting his muscles. The way he growled whenever he spoke, as if every word was a warning sign that he was about to pounce.
I wished it was his hand instead of Marshall’s.
Mr. Wilson had awakened a hunger inside me, and the sooner I dealt with that, the easier this would be. I couldn’t let this happen. I had to rid myself of this madness.
As soon as Marshall’s hand closed around my tip, I was gone.
My cock exploded, an orgasm rushing over me and taking me with it.
My climax was so intense, my legs shook with every spurt of cum.
It shot everywhere, all over my stomach, my arms, and a few even landed on my face.
Marshall jerked me off, pulling every single drop out of me until my cock was shaking but nothing was coming out.
I was still cumming, still climaxing, the pleasure not abating no matter how long I waited.
His hand slowed, and I whimpered from the loss of his touch.
One orgasm wasn’t nearly enough. I needed more.
I waited for Marshall to continue, hoping I would feel his hands on my thighs as he parted them.
But nothing happened. “Marsh?” His soft snoring greeted me instead.
He’d fallen back to sleep. Damn it. I nudged him, gently trying to wake him back up.
I was burning. Aching. Need raged deep inside me.
It was almost as if I’d gone into heat. But it was no use.
Marshall was a deep sleeper, and no matter how hard I tried to wake him, he wouldn’t budge.
After cleaning myself off, the only choice was to fall asleep, but as the hours ticked by, rest evaded me.
There was only heat and unsated desire. Sunlight slowly crept over my face, and I knew I had laid there all night without rest. The worst part wasn’t the lack of sleep.
My cock refused to relax no matter what I did.
It was almost too painful to touch at this point.
Finally admitting defeat, I slipped out of bed, listening to Marshall’s even breaths as I swung my legs over the mattress and adjusted the blanket behind me.
He didn’t wake up. He didn’t even stop snoring.
Good. I wanted him to stay asleep, so he wouldn’t see my raging boner and the dark circles under my eyes.
He would just get concerned and press me until I told him everything.
He could never find out what was in my head all night.
All those restless fantasies of everything I wanted his father to do to me.
Of those weathered hands touching my body.
Feeling his sunburned skin as he fucked me.
Focus, Casey.
I tiptoed around the bed and gingerly opened the dresser drawers to find a fresh pair of clothes.
Folding them in the crook of my arm, I carefully gripped the doorknob, turning it softer than a teenager trying to sneak out after midnight.
With one final glance to confirm Marshall was still sleeping, I shut the door and crept into the hallway, deliberately avoiding the center of the floor to remain silent.
The stairs were determined to ruin everything, creaking with every touch of my feet.
Waking Marshall would be bad, but waking his father would be worse.
They all had to stay asleep until I regained control of myself.
I quickly changed my clothes by the couch, flinching at every creak in the house and praying to anyone who would listen that I wouldn’t be discovered.
As soon as I’d stuffed my erection into my jeans and zipped them up, I was out the front door and trotting down the porch steps.
A run through town would help calm me down.
There was no pacing myself today. I raced down the street, my legs already burning before I got to the end of the block.
I leaned my hand against the stop sign for a quick rest, and then I kept running, turning down the next street, going until I got to the main road.
I’d rushed out the door before checking what time it was, and left my phone on the nightstand.
It had to be early, earlier than any sane person should be awake.
The sun was up, but the town was still asleep, with only a few people on the sidewalk and one or two cars passing by.
Less people to ask questions about the omega racing down the sidewalk and working up a sweat with every step.
My body wasn’t used to this, and the amount of sweat dripping off my forehead made that painfully obvious.
I kept running, kept moving, burning off the untamed heat in my tense muscles.
If any of my unwanted thoughts and desires returned home with me, it wouldn’t be for lack of effort.
This was so insane. I’d never felt such an intense pull to anyone before, not even… No, I told myself, shaking my head as I ran even harder. Don’t think about him. He doesn’t deserve your time.
The fact remained: whatever was between Adam and me was stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. It was inescapable, refusing to be pushed away no matter how much I tried, and it burned as hot as it had when we first locked eyes on each other yesterday.
Hormones. This was nothing but a simple hormonal pull, like having a crush in high school when Alphas and omegas first started sensing pheromones and didn’t know how to handle it.
But every crush I had back then was nothing compared to this.
Adam was like falling into the sun and not caring if I burned to ashes.
I couldn’t let this happen. Not to Marshall, and not to me.
It was easy to tell myself I could say no.
That was more tempting than Adam was, convincing myself I could ignore this.
If I gave into this hormonal attraction, he would never forgive me.
He would leave, just like my ex-husband.
And even if Adam wanted me back, which I knew he did, judging by him teasing me about the foot thing last night, there was no guarantee he’d want anything but my body.
Hot, sweaty, and more than a little fatigued, I turned another corner and found myself in a different part of town.
There was a feed store, a hardware shop, and a used car lot at the end of the block.
I wasn’t tired enough yet. Those unbidden, irresistible images of Adam still resurfaced as soon as I stopped moving.
I pushed forward until my legs hurt, and I almost had to limp down the sidewalk.
The hardware store was open, and I stopped just outside the front door, leaning one hand on the aged wood while the other used my damp shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead.
Inside, muffled music played, and voices grew louder as they approached the entrance, just before the door opened and someone stepped out.
As I tried to rush out of his way, he almost bumped into me before I saw who it was.
“Casey!”
I recognized David a split second before he said my name.
He held a full paper sack against his chest, and he was wearing his Sheriff uniform, complete with a brown ball cap.
His pheromones were faint, but the gentle leather smell was comforting.
“Hey, David,” I panted as I tried to catch my breath.
“Ahh, you’re out early. Marshall’s snoring kept you up?” He rummaged through his pockets for his truck key, all while juggling the paper sack.