Page 38 of Good Girl

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Omegas don’t share. It’s not in their nature.

Marcus’ words went round and round in my head on the drive over to the Lasseter estate. So that was their big secret, why they didn’t take an omega when they obviously wanted to. I frowned, the suppressants making me feel a little woozy, so the memory was slippery, hard to nail down and consider.

Omegas don’t share. It’s not in their nature.

Yeah, all right, I got it the first time, I thought. But do we?

I mean, they weren’t wrong. We were raised on a steady diet of romantic storylines between alphas and omegas, and there was always one pushy, demanding alpha who put his or her whole soul on the line for their omega, all that tough façade cracking and finally breaking down for them. That was what we wanted. We were required to submit over and over, and would if we got that. The one moment of true surrender, when the alpha realised that this wasn’t instincts or hormones or biology. My eyes slid sideways, skimming over the lot of the guys sitting in the huge SUV, seeing the dark bulk of them. When they realised they’d never respond to another omega, to anyone else, like they did you, that was when we could do it—submit to their intensity, their passion, their hunger. When it was safe to give into our own.

“What are you thinking about, omega?” Orion asked as I squirmed in my seat, my cunt throbbing at the thought of it. A hand running down the back of my neck and staying there, forever, as I knelt. I wouldn’t be a good girl then, I’d be theirs. “Omega?”

My eyes jerked up at the command in his voice, his studying mine as his fingers traced the clasp of the damn collar, then slid under the pearls, stroking the skin there.

“I asked you a question.”

“Submission.” I bit the word off but didn’t dare raise my voice. This was hard to say as it was without the rest of them hearing. “Submission to an alpha. My alpha. When he proves himself to me. When he deserves it. That’s what I was thinking about.”

I was acting stupidly, recklessly. Orion might have his mates, but his nature still jerked his leash when an omega said things like that. Because no matter what he’d chosen, part of him, all of them, would always want that.

Which made me feel suddenly sad, my mood plummeting as it often did with suppressants. Everything became so much more elevated, as if in revenge for trying to suppress what I was. It wasn’t fucking revenge. Wanting some sort of control over my stupid biology was a perfectly natural response, and on that, my therapist and I agreed. So I looked up, reached my hand out, ready to take his in mine and give him my sympathy when I saw his expression.

His eyes glowed in the gloom, his face pale, his expression stony. He jerked his hand out of reach and then clasped his around my wrist to stop me from moving. For a few moments, he held it, frozen and still, just like the rest of him, his lips parting, no doubt to deliver some cutting words, when the car pulled to a stop.

“We’re here,” Marcus said, turning around and looking at the rest of us. “You gonna talk battle plan, Orion, or just hold the omega’s hand?”

“You look after her,” he replied, opening the door and stumbling out, off to anywhere but beside me.

“Well, all right,” Marcus said with a smile. “You’re with me, glued to my side, omega. The rest of you stay lively. This place, these fucking people—”

“We know,” Brendan said, shooting me a sidelong look. “There is no way this isn’t going to become a bloody clusterfuck.”

“We should take her home. She shouldn’t be out anywhere,” Rhys grumbled.

“And do what? Get myself off over and over as I watch you guys fuck on the CCTV?” I sneered. It felt weird, the expression. “That’s how we got into this situation in the first place. I’ve taken my suppressants, and George can escort me. You guys can fuck off and do whatever it is you would usually do.”

I was working up to an epic flounce, the tight fit of my dress not exactly conducive to that. I struggled out of the car, my heels hitting the concrete, then straightened up, ready to stride all the way up the long driveway to the main house at the Lasseters’, but I didn’t get very far.

“What the…?” I hissed when I saw Marcus beside me, his hand wrapping around the exact spot Orion had gripped me, overlaying Orion’s referred warmth with his own. “How the hell…?”

“You’re right,” he replied, but not to my questions. “We did get you into this mess, and we’ll get you out of it. This…” His head jerked towards the hulking house, light streaming from every window and doorway. “This isn’t a nice event supervised by proud mamas. This is a battlefield, where alphas play with omegas, and for you, it’s not an evenly matched one. George can’t do shit for you here, but we can.” His grip loosened enough that I could pull away if I wanted to. “I have a club to fucking run, an empire to build, and a million problems, each one could take all of us down in a second, but I’m here with you, offering my help if you want it.”

My head jerked up as I heard the muted whoops coming from the house.

“They won’t let you decide, but I will. What is it gonna be, omega? You walking into the lion’s den with an army at your back or just a spear carrier?”

“I’m assuming he means me?” George drawled, walking over and looking mildly pissed.

“Fine,” I ground out, and the effect of the words were nothing if not dramatic. That smile that had transfixed a million girls at my school spread across his face, a Botticelli angel deigning to look favourably on me. Actually, fuck, make that Caravaggio.

“Well, c’mon. I promise this will be nothing if not educational.”

“If she tips over into frenzy, she’s coming back to ours,” Rhys rumbled. “Promise me, Marcus.”

“Well, I sure as shit wouldn’t abandon her to these idiots’ tender mercies.” Marcus’ face grew serious as we walked up the drive. “I know you like to paint me as some kind of bastard, but I’m your bastard,” he told Rhys. “I wouldn’t leave my worst enemy in a place like this.”

“This is gonna be a clusterfuck,” Brendan muttered. “A total bloody clusterfuck.”

And it was, as soon as we walked in the door.


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy