Oli
OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN
OLI HART ATTACKED BY REPORTER AFTER SHOW
June 16th
T he first show in Orlando went great. Things are running smoothly with the new security, the whole crew, and our pack. Even the lip-syncing has gone well.
I’m just settling down in my nest after my shower when the door swings open, and Dax stands there, a shadow against the flickering lights of the tour bus. He steps inside, closing the gap between us with a purpose that tightens my stomach in knots of curiosity and a flicker of anticipation.
“Hey,” I say, trying to read the serious yet gentle look in his intense hazel eyes. They always seem like they’re peering right into the heart of me.
“.” His voice is low and gravelly, the way it gets when he’s got something on his mind that’s weighing heavy. He sits beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him, but there’s a tension in the air like he’s holding back.
“You were great tonight. It feels like we have all been performing together forever instead of just this tour,” I offer up, hoping to break the tension.
He smiles and shakes his head. “Even when I was an asshole, we’ve had great chemistry. It’s no surprise the tour has been a success.”
“Did you need something?” I ask, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
Dax takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his dark brown hair, and meets my gaze. “Would you… be willing to come with me somewhere? In Miami.”
My heart kicks up a notch because it’s Dax asking, this grumpy bassist who’s been all walls and barriers. And now he’s here, in my personal space, asking me to go somewhere with him.
Miami was important to him. He asked for an extra show there. Is this why?
“Anywhere particular?” I ask, trying to keep it light, but I’m more interested than I want to let on. Something about how he looks at me makes me want to say yes before I know what I’m agreeing to.
He hesitates, then shakes his head slightly. “It’s… personal. But it means a lot.” A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I realize how much it must have taken for him to come to me like this.
“Okay, Dax.” My response comes out softly and laced with a trust I didn’t know I had reserved for him.
A visible relief washes over him, and for a moment, the gruff exterior slips, revealing the vulnerability he so often tries to hide. It’s a look that hooks me, reels me in, and I know there’s no turning back.
The corner of his mouth quirks up in a small, grateful smile—one that reaches his eyes and softens the hard edges I’ve grown accustomed to. “Thanks, ,” he murmurs, the gruffness in his tone smoothed over by something that sounds suspiciously like warmth. “It means more than you know.”
Dax shifts closer to me on the nest. The intimacy of his nearness sends a thrill skittering down my spine, but it’s the next words out of his mouth that truly catch me off guard. “How about a foot massage? To help you recover from wearing those high boots all the time for our shows.”
My eyebrows shoot up, a surprised giggle escaping before I can filter it. “A foot massage? From Mr. Grumpy himself?” I tease, but the idea is undeniably appealing. The notion of his strong hands working away the day’s tension has heat pooling low in my stomach, an unexpected craving blossoming.
“Hey, I can be nice.” His eyes sparkle with mischief now, and there’s an ease between us that feels new, fragile, precious.
“Then, by all means, Dax.” I present my feet with a flourish. “Show me what you’ve got.”
My legs stretch out before us, and Dax positions himself at the end of the nest, lifting my feet into his lap with a reverence that belies his usual grumpiness.
I admire his focus on the task. When his fingers start working their magic, pressing into the soles of my feet with deliberate care, the sensation is heavenly. Each stroke eases the knots of stress, drawing a contented sigh from my lips.
“That’s amazing…” I murmur, leaning back and letting my eyes flutter closed. The tender, rhythmic pressure is intoxicating, each touch stoking the embers of attraction I’ve tried to keep at bay. It becomes clear at this moment how much I’ve underestimated Dax. He’s attentive and considerate; right now, he’s making me feel utterly pampered.
“Good to know I can impress you, Hart,” Dax says, a note of satisfaction threading through his words. The intimacy of this simple act, coupled with the spark of connection igniting between us, wraps me in a cocoon of warmth and possibility.
His fingers trace paths up toward my ankles, strong yet unhurried, pausing to apply pressure that has heat pooling in places untouched by his hands. There’s an artistry in how he alternates between firm strokes and gentle caresses.
There’s something undeniably sensual about how he dedicates himself to this task, the way his gaze occasionally flickers to mine, dark and unreadable. “I can’t believe how good you are at this.”
“Only for you, ,” he responds, and I catch the ghost of a smile on his lips. Every press of his palms spreads a delicious warmth that seeps deeper than skin, wrapping around my heart and tugging with an insistent pull.
And just like that, I feel valued, treasured even, in a way that has nothing to do with the spotlights and the cheers of the crowd. In Dax’s careful touch, I find a sanctuary—a place where I can lay down the mantle of the ever-smiling omega and just be… me.
“Didn’t peg you for the nurturing type,” I murmur, my voice a whisper of silk against the hum of the tour bus engine. There’s no bite to my words, only a wonder that fills the spaces between us with something soft and unspoken.
“Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me, ve Hart,” he says with a hint of challenge, but it’s tempered by the tender way his thumb circles the arch of my foot, claiming territory in a dance as old as time.
“Show me then.” My voice is a playful taunt, but the underlying current of sincerity tugs at something vulnerable within him. “Show me everything I don’t know about Daxon Grey.”
His gaze holds mine, a storm of hazel swirling with emotions too raw and real to be concealed any longer. He’s always been a fortress of solitude, but now the gates are open, and I want to explore every hidden alcove, every shadowed corner.
In one fluid motion, I close the distance between us, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw before finding solace in the thick locks at the nape of his neck. His breath hitches as I lean in, my lips brushing his in a kiss.
“…” His voice is a rumble of surprise, a note of uncertainty that fades as our mouths meld together.
The kiss deepens, and I pour every ounce of my gratitude and affection into the slow dance of our lips. The world falls away until there’s only this moment, this connection that thrums with the beating of our hearts.
Dax’s hands come up to cradle my face, strong and sure, guiding me closer as if he’s afraid I might slip away. But I’m not going anywhere—can’t imagine being anywhere but right here with him. His lips are firm yet yielding, moving against mine with an intensity that makes me writhe.
The heat between us is tangible, crackling in the air of the tour bus nest as Dax’s hands roam over me. His eyes, those pools of molten hazel, hold mine with a promise that sends my heart into a wild rhythm.
The nest of blankets and pillows cradles us.
He descends slowly, a predator, yet a tenderness in his touch belies the hunger in his gaze. His breath fans across my heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise in anticipation of the pleasure only he can provide. He hums as his mouth descends to the tender skin of my neck.
The air in my nest is thick with the aroma of desire, an intoxicating blend of his cinnamon roll scent and my excitement.
His lips trail lower, etching fiery paths down my neck and chest, his reverence for me evident.
With a rush of boldness, I reach down and grab the hem of my shirt. My fingers are eager, almost fumbling in their haste to rid me of the fabric that separates Dax’s touch from my skin. The material bunches, lifts, and then it’s off.
“Look at you,” he growls, his gaze intense, worshipful as it sweeps over my exposed chest. There’s a primal edge to his voice. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
I lay back against the pile of pillows that make up my sanctuary. The smirk on my lips is an open invitation, one I know he can’t resist.
He doesn’t disappoint. His hands now roam over my bare skin.
Dax lowers his head, his mouth finding my breast with an intimacy that feels like a secret shared. He licks, taking his time as if savoring every note of my flavor, and I can’t help the way my body sways to the rhythm of his tongue. He sucks gently, reverently.
“God, ,” he murmurs into my skin, his breath hot and tickling. “You’re more addictive than anything I’ve ever tasted.”
“I feel the same,” I whisper, my hands tangling in his dark hair, urging him closer.
Dax leaves my chest, kissing down my stomach.
His mouth is pressing hot and wet against my skin. Every inch of me eagerly awaits his next move.
My hands grip his shoulders as if they’re the only things anchoring me in this whirlwind of sensation.
“Is this okay?” His voice is a low thrum, vibrating through my core as his fingers toy with the edge of my pajama shorts.
“Damn it, Dax,” I breathe out, a laugh bubbling up despite the heat pooling inside me. “If you stop now, I swear I’ll kill you.”
That crooked smile I adore flashes across his face, the bad boy glint in his eyes telling me he’s taking my threat as encouragement. He hooks his fingers into my shorts and panties, the fabric sliding down with agonizing slowness, peeling away the last barrier between us.
“Threats, ? That’s how you want to play?” Dax teases, but his hands are steady, sure, as he strips away my pajama shorts and underwear, leaving me bare and open to his scrutiny.
“Only if it gets me what I want,” I retort, my voice a mix of challenge and raw need. The air feels cooler on my exposed skin, but the fire in Dax’s eyes promises that I won’t be cold for long.
The room spins as Dax lowers himself, his breath a teasing caress over the apex of my thighs. I’m already shivering with anticipation, the charged air between us crackling with each of his deliberate movements. His hazel eyes lock onto mine, holding a silent question that I answer with a tilt of my hips—an unspoken plea.
“Ready for me, angel?” he murmurs.
I can’t help but grin, a spark igniting in my core. “I need you, Dax.”
Dax doesn’t need another word; his tongue finds me, and the world narrows down to the sensation of him tasting me, exploring me with the reverence of a man worshiping at an altar. My fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer.
Dax plays me expertly, his tongue swirling and flicking with a rhythm that has my back arching off the soft bedding of my nest.
The world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth on me, the sound of my breathy moans, and the steady beat of my heart screaming his name.
He laps at me, slow and languorous like he’s savoring every drop of my desire. The soft flicks of his tongue grow more insistent, pressing into me with a persistence that has my legs trembling. Each stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating through me, building me higher, tighter, until I’m teetering on the edge of something cataclysmic.
“Your mouth feels so good.” The words are a breathy sigh, torn from my lips as I arch my back, offering myself to the intensity of his mouth. He’s relentless, his tongue tracing figure eights that leave me dizzy. I am spellbound by the meticulous attention he pays to every gasp and quiver of my body.
And then he finds that sweet spot, the one that makes stars burst behind my eyelids, and I’m falling, spiraling into the abyss of ecstasy. It hits me like a tidal wave, washing over me in relentless surges as he coaxes me through the storm with the steady rhythm of his tongue.
“Right there, don’t stop, don’t you dare-” My voice breaks as the pleasure crests, and I’m coming undone beneath him, waves of release crashing over me in a deluge of sensation that leaves me breathless, boneless, beautifully wrecked.
But Dax isn’t done with me yet. The aftershocks are still humming through my veins when Dax’s lips press against my sensitized flesh again, sending a jolt of desire straight to my core.
His fingers slip inside, stretching me, filling me alongside the relentless pursuit of his mouth. My hands find purchase in his dark hair, tugging him closer, silently begging for more. He obliges, his movements intensifying, fingers curling to stroke a spot inside that has a second climax building rapidly.
“I’m addicted to you now. If you thought you could get rid of me after this, you were dead wrong,” Dax rasps between licks.
The combination of his mouth and the steady push and pull of his fingers sends me higher again.
“Beautiful… perfect…” Dax’s words are worship, praise that stokes the fire burning within me. His tongue and fingers work in tandem, pushing me higher until I’m teetering on the precipice once more.
“More…Dax, please,” I pant, not caring about the breathlessness in my voice or the desperate way my hips chase his touch.
“Anything for you,” he murmurs, the adoration dripping from his tone
His fingers curl within me in a rhythm that has my toes curling and my back arching. He worships me with every lick and caress, and I can’t help but bask in the reverence of his obsession.
“Beautiful , so responsive, so perfect,” he praises, and the warmth in his voice adds another layer to the pleasure coiling deep in my belly.
The intensity builds, a pressure begging for release, and I’m clinging to him.
“Mine. My ,” he growls, and that possessive declaration is all it takes for me to shatter again, stars bursting behind my eyelids as I cry out his name.
The room spins, the world fades, and all that exists is the relentless pressure of Dax’s mouth against me. His fingers are unyielding, driving into me with a fervor that matches the pounding rhythm of my heart. “You’re incredible,” he pants between kisses, his breath hot against my fevered skin. “So damn incredible, .”
My nerves sing, my body tenses, every fiber pulling taut like guitar strings before they snap. Heat coils tighter, spiraling out of control within me as he lavishes praise on my shaking form. “Dax,” I breathe, voice breaking on his name.
“Come for me again, angel,” he urges, his voice gruff with desire. His eyes are locked onto mine, and his hazel irises are blazing with a passion that mirrors the inferno inside me.
I’m helpless to resist, and with a cry, I come undone. The pleasure is all-consuming. It leaves me gasping, my body trembling in the aftershocks of release.
Exhausted and sated, I collapse back against my nest of pillows
Dax sits back on his heels, watching me with an intense gaze, holding a note of something softer—admiration, maybe, or even deeper. His lips glisten, and his chest heaves.
With a shaky breath, I lean forward and capture his mouth in a kiss, tasting myself on him—a mingling of flavors that are uniquely us. His arms encircle me, pulling me flush against his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding in tandem with mine.
He pulls me tight against him and lays on the pillows. I want to protest and take care of him, but his arms are locked tight around me.
“Can I sleep in here with you tonight?” he asks.
“Absolutely.” I nuzzle my nose against his. “Are we done, though?”
I look down pointedly at the hard-on that’s pressing against his shorts and into me.
“Yeah, we’re done. Tonight was about you.”
The nest is a cocoon of warmth, Dax’s arm slung over me like a promise when the soft shuffle of footsteps approaches. I tilt my head to see Jack slipping into the space on my other side, his presence a familiar comfort.
“Room for one more?” he teases, those piercing blue eyes crinkling with mirth.
“Always,” I reply, shifting to allow him to wrap an arm around me. His body heat seeps into my skin.
“Hope you’re not starting a party without us,” Chase chimes in from the doorway, his timbre laced with amusement. He’s followed by Aiden, both of them wearing easy smiles that mirror the camaraderie of our group.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, my voice airy as I beckon them closer with a waggle of my fingers. They don’t need to be told twice; Aiden finds a spot near my feet, his touch light against my ankle, while Chase gently kisses my forehead before settling beside Aiden.
We’re a tangle of limbs and quiet laughter, each alpha finding their own way to connect with me. It’s not sexual, just pure affection, a pack’s nurturing embrace that says I’m theirs and they are mine.
Dax, still close at my side, watches the exchange with a softness in his gaze that wasn’t there before.
“Comfy?” I ask, turning my attention back to him. Our eyes lock, and there’s a silent conversation, an understanding that this moment is more than just physical closeness—it’s about emotional threads knitting together.
“Never been better,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the quiet of the nest. There’s no need for words when his body pressed against mine speaks volumes.
The nest hums with the collective breathing of my alphas, a rhythm that lulls me toward sleep. I feel cherished, surrounded by their strength and loyalty.
Dax and I settle into a comfortable silence, the events of the night wrapping around us like a blanket. Even with my eyes closed, I sense the weight of his tender and watchful gaze.