Page 11 of Last Chance Omega

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As I reached the bar, Victor was suddenly there, lifting me up onto the shiny wooden top. “Sorry, there's something wrong with the gate. The lock keeps getting stuck. This is quicker than walking around the back.” I patted his hand and tried to school my expression, so he didn’t realize being hefted around by a strong man was definitely one of my kinks.

Will pulled me off the bar, setting me on my feet. He handed me a short apron. “It’s got everything you should need in there, but let me know if you need anything else.” They’d given me a rundown of the ordering system during the week, so I was pretty confident I could make it work. Besides, I’d worked in a cafe down in Anchorage to help pay for college, so I wasn’t worried. Waiting tables was basically muscle memory now.

The night passed by in a blur, and I caught up with a lot of old faces, all of whom asked a lot of questions. I dodged them the best I could, but I kept coming back to the one response that I knew all locals would accept: I was tired of the big city and I missed home.

Every single one of them nodded sagely, like I was finally coming to my senses. Like they thought returning to a town that had less of a population than a single graduating class at my university was the right thing to do.

I had to admit that it was actually nice being home. I would never tell anyone that, though. You weren’t meant to go backwards. As I caught up with people and found out who’d gotten married, who’d gotten divorced, who’d gotten caught ordering a sex doll from Japan, I found that I was once again being immersed in this town. It felt good.

Well, until Teller Jones walked into the bar and sat down in my section. Teller had been my high school boyfriend in senior year. The guys had graduated, and for the first time, I’d felt alone. Teller had been there, sweet and funny, filling the gap in my life during school hours. It was probably unfair to him, considering how obsessed with the Yale Triplets I’d been. But Teller was my first kiss. My first date.

“Zaley?” He seemed surprised to see me, so obviously the grapevine hadn’t reached him yet. A small miracle, really.

“Hey, Teller.” I gave him a tight smile. “What can I get you?”

“What are you doing back here?”

I just waved a hand. Teller was never going to believe that I was here because I was homesick. He stood up, moving closer to me, and all the shit from our past rose to the surface like a sewage plant.

Teller Jones had broken my heart.

“Zaley, I—”

“How’s Ophelia?”

When I left for college, he’d still been in a relationship with the one girl who’d made my life miserable, the one girl who’d wanted the Yale Triplets for as long as I’d known her. She’d seen me as the reason they hadn’t asked her out, despite the fact that they’d all had short-term girlfriends through high school.

No, Ophelia Randell had decided it was my fault, and in senior year she’d gotten her revenge by fucking my boyfriend in the girls’ bathrooms at prom. She was classy like that. By the time I left, they’d been engaged to be married and I’d been so fucking alone.

“We broke up. Found her fucking Josh in my bed last year.”

A laugh slipped from my lips, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, horrified. “I’m so sorry. That’s not funny.”

Teller gave me a lopsided grin. “Nah, Zay, if anyone gets to laugh at my fiancée fucking my best friend, it’s you.” He moved even closer, his hand coming up to rest on my upper arm. “I’m really sorry about what happened. I was young and stupid and that’s no excuse, but Zay, no one has ever been—”

“You okay, Zaley?” Victor was beside me suddenly. “Jones.”

Teller’s eyes slid to Victor. “Hey, Vic. You didn’t tell me that Zaley was back in town.”

“We aren’t on the phone tree together,” Victor deadpanned. “You want to order?”

Teller didn’t sense the absolute threat coming off Victor. Why would he? Victor wasn’t the Yale brother prone to violence—that award went to Xander. No one saw Victor as a threat. But right now, he was wound so tight that I was worried he was going to take a swing at Teller. Was it the Alpha in him?

He was looking at where Teller’s hand still rested on my arm. “It was a surprise even for the guys,” I said pleasantly to my ex-boyfriend, stepping back casually until Teller was forced to drop his hand. I looked over my shoulder for one of the other Yale brothers, but it was too busy. “Vic, I need to fill up the ketchup dispenser. Can you show me where we keep it?” I let my fingers curl through his, and his hand clamped onto mine. “I’ll be back to grab your order in a minute, Teller.”

Finally dragging his eyes from Teller, Vic dragged me through the crowd towards the back, and I didn’t resist. He led me down a dark hall that led to the back office, and then into the storeroom. By the time he slammed the door shut, he was shaking with… something. Anger? Repressed Alpha testosterone? How the hell would I know?

“Zaley,” he groaned, his hand still tightly entwined in mine.

“It’s okay, Vic,” I crooned, racking my brain for how to calm an enraged Alpha. I placed my other hand on his chest.

Well, that had the opposite effect of calm, because he wrapped an arm around my waist and spun me, pressing me against the closed door and kissing me so hard I lost my breath. His lips devoured me, his kiss wild and firm as his teeth clacked against mine and his tongue dove between my lips.

Holy shit. My body caught up before my brain, because I was curled into him, kissing him back by the time my mind told me that I wanted this. No, Ineededthis. My fingers dove into his styled hair, messing it up as I held his face close. He lifted me and wedged me between his body and the door, my core pressed against the hard cock behind his too-tight jeans. That shit must be torture.

I rolled my hips and he groaned, spinning and walking us back towards a pile of boxes in the corner. Sitting me on top, he continued to kiss me.

“I need to taste you, Za-Za, need to make you come. Please,” he begged, and I couldn’t have said no even if I wanted to. But seriously, my brain was way too fried on Lust Potion 69 to say no to orgasms. I nodded, and he let out a relieved moan.


Tags: Grace McGinty Paranormal