Ten
Cam
Ididn’t quite understand. wyatt’s scent had changed the second vern walked in, which was normal. expected, even. he’d been embarrassed and afraid. i didn’t think he needed to be. vern was, well, vern, but it likely meant someone in wyatt’s past had taught him that he needed to hide.
Or maybe it was just normal human embarrassment about being caught with your pants down.
Humans were prudish about that kind of stuff.
Shifters were … less uptight, although most of us tried to play along with the rules human society set.
Some of us were bigger sticklers for it than others (cough, Cal, cough).
I tugged on the jeans—too big by half—and the shirt Vern had loaned me, then trotted upstairs. Vern made a point of not looking up from his TV show when I padded by the living room.
Wyatt was, as promised, upstairs waiting for me. He ushered me into the spare bedroom, which was where he was (obviously) staying for the time being, and closed the door.
I perched on the bed—presumptuous, I knew, but I figured I wanted to be somewhere comfortable if I was going to explain that Wyatt was an omega, that he was in heat, and that I, as an alpha, was at his service.
The mattress squealed as I sat my butt down, and I grimaced. I hoped Vern had earplugs.
To my surprise, Wyatt perched beside me on the bed. “Let’s be blunt,” he said, and I blinked. His hazel gaze found my own. “I want you. Do you want me?”
I quirked a brow. “I thought that much was obvious when I ran five miles to show up naked on your doorstep.”
Wyatt looked half annoyed and half amused. “Jackass,” he muttered. He made like he was going to punch me in the arm, then blinked and dropped his hand.
Oh. Right. I was still injured. “It’s almost fine,” I told him, lifting my arm and waving it.
His expression careened right into worry. “Don’t,” he hissed, slapping his hands onto my arm and pushing it down. “Your shoulder’s still setting, you don’t want to—”
“I’m a shifter,” I told him, as gently as I could. “We heal faster. Gimme a couple more days, and I’ll be right as rain.”
He pursed his lips—so pink, so very kissable, and I got half lost in the idea of kissing him until his lips were bruised. “You should still be careful,” he said finally.
“You’re cute when you worry,” I told him, smirking.
He scowled at me. I felt my smirk widen. I resisted the urge to tell him he was also cute when he was scowling.
I leaned into his space. “My arm’s fine, you want me, and I want you, so …?”
He glanced up at me, gaze full of hesitation. I thought for a second, then said, “Right. An explanation.”
He ducked his head. I sat back, tilting my own head. “‘I like you so much I decided to run five miles’ isn’t gonna cut it?”
He shot me a glare. “I’m not gonna believe anyone is that horny,” he said flatly.
“You’ve clearly never met an alpha around an omega in heat then,” I said, then clamped my mouth shut when he gave me a wide-eyed look.
There was absolutely no shyness or hesitancy in his response, though. “What the hell is an omega?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“Er.” I waved a hand nonchalantly. “An omega is … an omega.”
Okay, now he looked pissed off. I gritted my teeth. “It’s … hard to explain.”
“Is it?” He folded his arms across his chest.
Damn, I was just digging myself deeper and deeper here, wasn’t I? If I had any hope in hell of getting laid …
“You,” I said before I could think better of it. “You’re an omega.”
Wyatt studied me for a moment, pressing his lips together, hazel eyes bouncing back and forth as he scanned my face. “I’m not a shifter,” he said slowly.
“I know.”
“I don’t think humans have … whatever an omega is.”
“I know,” I repeated, hanging my head. “I don’t get it either—but you smell—”
“Seriously? I smell?”
I grabbed his hand as he tried to pull away, clearly offended.
“Like an omega,” I finished, looking into his eyes, hoping he could see that I was being sincere.
I didn’t understand it any more than he did.
All my life, I’d been told shifters had alphas, betas, and omegas, while humans divided themselves into male and female.
For shifters, that didn’t matter at all; it was our Greek lettering that determined reproduction.
So my little brother Cody was still male, even though he was an omega.
Another reason shifters had historically kept to ourselves, by and large. There were a lot of humans out there who would have accepted that or didn’t really care, but there were plenty of them who didn’t want to wrap their heads around anything that didn’t fit in their neat little boxes.
God, I hoped Wyatt wasn’t one of those.
My heart tripped faster as I realized that there was a non-zero chance of rejection here.
Wyatt was human. He didn’t know about omegas and alphas.
Hell, he hadn’t even known about shifters two hours ago.
I’d known the guy for maybe a little more than a week, and I’d spent half of my time around him in my fur.
It wasn’t like we’d had a chance to have deep, meaningful conversations or even just shoot the shit about where we stood on “hot button issues” like trans rights and not being an absolute scumbag.
I swallowed nervously. “Wyatt—”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Let’s say I believe you,” he said slowly, his gaze fixed on the worn wooden floorboards. He was slowly twisting his thumbs together. “What does that mean?”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. “It means … you’re an omega in heat, and I’m an alpha. I want to help you.”
Finally, that hazel gaze flicked in my direction. “Help me how?”
I leaned toward him, angling in for a kiss. “Like this.”
It was about all I had time to say, and I hoped it sounded smoother than it felt, because I basically mashed our mouths together, like I was a fumbling sixteen-year-old again.
It must have been sexier than it felt, because Wyatt practically moaned into my mouth. Then he kissed me back with matching ferocity, tongue and teeth, and suddenly, we were a tangle of limbs tumbling off the edge of the bed and landing with a thump, my back to floor, Wyatt on top.
“Ow,” I managed, but my lungs felt like they were on fire. And that was saying nothing about my shoulder.
Wyatt’s eyes widened, and he sat up. “Sorry,” he said, then made like he was going to dive off of me.
I grabbed his wrist, holding him fast. “It’s fine,” I wheezed. “I’m fine.”
He gave me a skeptical look, which was fair. I huffed a couple more breaths, just to make sure I wasn’t going to faint or something, then slowly rolled us over.
Wyatt glared up at me. “Who says you get to top?” he asked.
“Uh … I’m the alpha?” Honestly, I’d never really given it much thought. Everything I’d ever read or seen or whatever had the alpha on top. It was just how things were done.
Wyatt scowled, then flipped us back over. “What if I want to be on top?” he asked, straddling my hips and grinding down.
I was supposed to think of a clever comeback, I was sure, but all the blood in my body was rushing southward. I didn’t think I could be blamed for that: there was an omega grinding his cute ass against me, and my jeans were rubbing against my rapidly hardening dick in all the right ways.
Instead of answering, I clutched at Wyatt’s hips. I might not have ever thought of this on my own, but I wasn’t going to say no to it.
“Are you good with catching?”
I screwed my eyes shut, then shook my head. “Sorry, what?” It was my turn to glare. “Did you seriously just use a baseball analogy?”
Wyatt frowned. “I, uh—”
“And I thought that was covered by topping?” Oh heck. I hadn’t thought of that. I was an alpha. I’d never …
Wyatt snorted, and when I looked up at him, he was smirking. “I know this place is a backwater,” he said, “but do you really not have the internet?”
“Of course we have the internet,” I scoffed.
“Then why do you sound like you live under a rock?”
I caught his hand and glowered. “I’m the one living under a rock? You didn’t even know about shifters.”
“That doesn’t count,” he protested. Even as he was protesting, he was yanking his shirt off, revealing swaths of pale skin.
He was … scrawny. Gangly, almost. Like a teenage boy who still hadn’t fully grown into his frame, except Wyatt was a vet and that meant he’d likely finished some kind of college degree, so he was probably …
Ah, hell, I’d better ask. I slid my hands up his sides, thumbing over his ribs. He was thin. “How old are you?”
He blinked. “Are you kidding me?” he snorted.
“I’m serious,” I returned, still stroking his sides. “I mean, I’m guessing old enough, but you know what assuming does.”
He cracked the hint of a grin. “Old enough to have a pile of school debt,” he said, almost bitterly.
“And a fancy degree,” I offered.
His expression softened a little. “Yeah.”
I nodded. “I just … wanted to be sure.”
He inhaled. “What, so you shifters don’t just jump omegas who are ‘in heat’?”
Oh, I did not like that tone. He was being snarky—borderline rude. Like he wanted to insult me. “Heck no,” I said, as honestly as I could. The very idea was offensive. “We’re not completely feral. We have rules. Morals.”
He laughed a little, then hung his head. “Sorry. I just …”
I hesitated, then slowly brought my hand up to cup his cheek. “I get it. It’s … a lot, isn’t it?”
He nodded. I hesitated again. I was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure he was an omega and that he was in heat. As an alpha, my job was to help him through that heat, and by most standards, that meant fucking him silly.
But right now, I wasn’t sure if maybe what Wyatt needed was something else. He’d just discovered shifters existed, just been told about omegas and alphas, and I didn’t know if he even believed me about the fact he was in heat.
“Wyatt … if you … need some time, or you’re not ready, or … we can wait.”
God, it almost physically hurt to say that. I wanted him. Scratch that, I needed him, and my dick throbbed miserably with the idea that I might not get laid tonight.
But I wanted to be a good alpha. I needed to be a good alpha—and a good alpha didn’t do just whatever they needed. A good alpha was attuned to their omega, anticipating their needs and fulfilling those before the alpha’s own.
Wyatt’s head jerked up, and something like fury snapped in his eyes.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled, and heat surged through me.
He glanced down again, hands tearing at the waistband of my borrowed jeans.
“You said you were so horny you ran five fucking miles to get laid. Get these pants off now, Cameron, before I tear you out of them.”
I choked back a laugh, slowly lowering my hands to do his bidding. “Yessir.”