Never
The bar was a thumping cage of bass and neon, but the roar of my heart drowned out the music. Uriel pulled out a stool for me, his large hand brief on the back of my chair. I sat, smoothing out my dress and praying it didn’t ride up too far as he pressed a menu into my hands.
“I didn’t order for you because I didn’t know what you’d like,” he shouted over the noise, his voice a deep vibration that hit me in the chest.
“No worries,” I shouted back. I was too nervous to eat, but pretended to skim it.
“How was the drive? Far?” he asked. I couldn’t hear him clearly, so I inched closer.
“Not too bad!” I yelled as I nodded.
He leaned toward me. His scent should have been overwhelming, but it eluded me.
Still, I tried to inhale it. I could feel the heat coming from him and wondered why we were going through with the sitting and eating bit.
This whole “get to know each other” thing wasn’t real.
Ami’s words replayed, ‘The best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.’
His lips moved, explaining something, but the words were just background noise.
I didn’t care what his favorite food or team was.
My gaze was anchored on the pulse jumping in his neck and the way his knuckles looked against the dark wood of the bar.
I wasn’t here for a story; I was here for the weight of him to finally silence the screaming in my head.
Maybe I was nervous because we’d never sexted.
“There’s no need for you to be nervous,” he rumbled, reading my mind, or my scent, and his big brown eyes were too kind.
I hated him for it. I didn’t want reassurance, I wanted to unbutton his shirt and grip his hair until I forgot my ex ever existed.
I smiled and leaned in so our faces were inches apart.
“Is it that obvious?” I asked mischievously. His eyes lit up at the change in tone.
“As clear as day,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my ear—audible yet intimate enough to make my skin prickle. Any closer and we’d kiss.
“Do we know what we’re having?” A voice asked.
I looked over my shoulder to find the waiter.
A tall, slender man with a fake smile. He didn’t want to be here and I didn’t blame him.
After he took my order, Uriel had his eyes on the screen above the bar.
The walls were littered with them, each showing different angles of the game.
By the time my food arrived, he turned to me.
“Sorry, I got immersed in the game,” he laughed.
“No worries, I’m just going to try these,” I said as I picked up one of the tiny fried pieces from the basket. I was thankful for the break.
“What are they?” he asked.
“Cheese curds. I’ve never had ‘em before,” I said before popping the crunchy goodness into my mouth.
“How have you never had cheese curds?” Uriel exclaimed as I ate another.
“I don’t get out much,” I laughed.
“Is that because you’re an Omega? Or do you not like cheese?”
“I do. I’m more of a fry girl. Want one?” I offered.
“Are you sure?” he asked. I nodded and he grabbed one, threw it in the air, and caught it in his mouth.
“Good boy,” I teased and he choked on it. His cheeks reddening, the color reaching his ears. I handed him my glass of water as he thumped his chest.
“Ay Dios mio. You’re bad,” he rasped.
You have no idea.
“So when was your last date?” he asked.
“Woah, right to the point,” I laughed, though the humor felt thin. “Actually, I had my first date in six years, this week. I’m… I’m new to all of this.”
Uriel’s expression softened, his brows furrowing. “Six years is a long time, Vera.” He paused, his voice dropping to a more serious frequency. “And you guys never…?” He didn’t have to finish. He was looking for the bite mark. The permanent scar of a claim.
“No,” I said, the word coming out sharper than intended. “No claim.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I needed to change the subject before the ghost of Amos filled the empty chair next to us. “So, what do you do when you aren’t making Omegas nervous in bars?”
“Now who’s getting right to it?” he teased. He waited until I popped another cheese curd before leaning in, his lips by my ear. “I’m a boxer.”
The food turned to ash in my mouth. I fought and failed to stop myself from tensing. I nearly choked, the crunch suddenly sounding like a snapping bone.
A boxer.
My gaze dropped instantly to his hands. They were large, his knuckles slightly thickened—fists meant for heavy bags and soft ribs.
I’d spent years learning the geometry of hands like those; the way they curled when his mood soured, the weight of them when they were no longer ‘kind.’ Amos had the same build, the same deceptive smile, the same lethal potential hidden under a layer of charm.
“I own a gym in the city,” he continued, oblivious to the way the air had just been sucked out of my lungs, but his brows furrowed as he caught the sharp, metallic spike of my fear, noting the change in my scent. I couldn’t smell it, but I knew he could. “I enjoy what I do.”
“That sounds… fun,” I lied, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. “Doing a job you actually enjoy is a rare thing.”
He downed the rest of his drink, the glass hitting the bar with a definitive thud. He looked at me, his eyes dark and expectant.
“Wanna get out of here?”
The alarm bells were screaming in my head, telling me to run the other way. But Ami’s advice—and my own desperate need to overwrite my memories—pushed back. I needed a new ghost to replace the old one.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. He threw down a bill to cover my food as I stood.
He took my hand. I stared at the contact. The contact didn’t make me flinch, and that was the scariest part. His warmth settled into my bones like a curse. Then he led me past the crowd. I shouldn’t feel this calm. Calm meant I was letting my guard down, that I was weak and inviting disaster.
He held the door open, the cool night air kissed my skin.
The neon lights from the bar across the street flashed.
His hand rested on my hip and my mind raced.
I started to close up; I fought the urge to pull away as he led me to his car.
The sleek all-black car with tinted windows.
He hopped into his seat and I opened the door to mine before jumping in.
Uriel’s car had clean leather seats. As the car clicked shut, the silence of the night felt heavy, pressurized.
“You’re nervous again,” he rumbled, reaching over, his large hand covering mine.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve… allowed myself to just be in the moment,” I murmured. It was the truest thing I’d said all night.
“Lucky me, then,” he said. He leaned in, his intent clear, but I turned my head at the last second. His lips brushed my cheek instead.
“No kissing,” I whispered. Too intimate. I couldn’t handle the softness—didn’t want it.
“Okay,” he said when I turned back to him. His voice steady despite the sadness swirling in his eyes. “I can do that.”
His understanding was a balm, but my skin was still crawling with the need to feel something that didn’t hurt. “Unzip,” I demanded.
The sound of the zipper was like a pistol.
He didn’t hesitate, and I liked that. My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched as his hand dipped beneath the material.
As he exposed himself, I couldn’t help the mental tally.
He was clean, beautiful, and twice Amos’s size, but as I wrapped my hand around his base, my mind didn’t stay on Uriel.
It drifted to the Snarl messages. To Dane.
I dragged my eyes from his knot and looked him in the eyes. “You’re pretty,” I murmured. A thrill ran down my spine. His brows raised, and he chuckled.
“What?” I asked as I leaned over the console. His chin dipped as I lowered my lips until they were only a breath away.
“I’m going to be honest. You’re too close to my dick for me to be able to think,” he laughed.
I joined him and he groaned as my lips slid against his wet tip. I wasn’t a dick sucking expert. I didn’t do this for Amos. He liked to tell me how much he hated that I didn’t give him what he was owed. So my experience was limited.
“It’s okay. Just be a good boy and watch,” I murmured.
“Whatever you say,” he growled. Then I used what I’d learned from those tatted fingers on screen. I mirrored the rhythm, the grip, the desperate hunger. I wanted to be the one taking for once. I wanted to see an Alpha—even a kind one like Uriel—lose his mind because of me.
I flattened my tongue against his girth, the gag reflex was a challenge I welcomed. I wanted to be stretched, full. As he groaned, his hand finding the back of my head, a small fire lit in my belly. It wasn’t love. It was reclamation.
When I pulled up, I grabbed his thigh for balance and flicked my tongue against his slit. He inhaled sharply and I repeated the action. His chest rose and fell a little faster as I slid down his cock, taking more. He tensed and I grabbed his knot, squeezing the way I remember Dane did.
“Oh, fuck,” Uriel groaned.
My cheeks flushed, and I clenched my legs together at the thought of him. I did it again before jerking him while I sucked his tip.
“Harder,” he pleaded.
“Mm,” I hummed, making his hips buck. I pulled off with a pop. “Say, please.”
“For fuck’s sake, please.” There was a slight whine to his tone and I loved it.
I thrust myself down on his cock, feeling him in the back of my throat.
His hand gathered my hair, and I wish he’d pull it.
I slid up his length, saliva slid down my lip as I bobbed on his cock, taking him ‘til I couldn’t.
Only when I gagged did I relax my throat and force him deeper.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come down your throat,” he warned. In response, I gave him what he wanted, I squeezed his knot as hard as I could. And he came.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he groaned.
My gaze flickered up, and I watched as his head lolled to the side.
His body trembling as he emptied himself down my throat.
There was something about bringing a man pleasure.
I dug my nails into his thigh when his thrusts slowed.
I bounced up and down, taking him deep as he twitched.
Curses flew from his lips as I sucked every last drop.
When I was done, I sat up, flipped down the mirror and swiped the saliva on my chin.
I closed it, feeling a strange, hollow sense of victory and turned back to him.
His eyes were on me, a smile spreading across his face as his eyelids lowered.
His cock was still out, and I giggled at the absurdity.
We’d gone from talking for a few days to me sucking his dick.
What a time to be alive.
“Your turn,” he whispered, his gaze dark with promise. The victory vanished, and I knew in that moment, I wouldn’t.
“No,” I said, my voice small. “Not tonight. I’m… I’m not ready for that.” I braced for the anger. For the “Broken Omega” insults and “I don’t like being told no” mood swing, but Uriel just nodded. He tucked himself away before looking at me.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked. There was a heartbreaking amount of respect in his tone, a kindness that weighed on my chest.
I blinked, the armor I usually kept bolted to my skin starting to feel heavy. I looked at his lips, then back to those eyes that held nothing but patience.
“I just had you in my mouth,” I teased, my voice gaining a bit of its strength back. If he was going to be gentle, I could afford to be brave. “I think you can kiss me.”
“But do you want me to?” he murmured. The need for consent foreign to me.
“Yes,” I whispered. It was the truth. I hadn’t wanted to kiss him when we started this, but now, I craved it.
As he reached across the console, his hand coming up to cradle the back of my neck with a tenderness that made my throat ache, I let myself go.
Under the safety of the tinted windows, for the first time in years, I almost believed I was okay.