Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(62)

I dug through Chance's bathroom drawers and found a buzz clipper kit with a pair of scissors inside.

It was time for a change.





With a full belly of pizza and a lighter head, Chance led me through the halls of the club. I'd grown used to the quiet recently, and I was grateful for the suppressants now that the rooms were full again. Full of heavy scents, and of alphas letting out growls and belly laughs and sexual grunts of satisfaction.

My steps slowed as we neared the bar. Dim hanging lights made soft spotlights on small scenes in the large room. A group of men stood playing pool, guns strapped to their hips. A pair of women knelt on the surface of a table, kissing and groping one another for an audience that sat in a circle around them, catcalling and laughing. A couple was in a back booth, woman bent over the surface of the table as a man fucked lazily into her.

A few eyes drifted in my direction, and I sucked in a breath and looked away as Chance steered me into King's office, the door swinging open. My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of the man behind the desk.

King looked almost exactly the way he had when I'd walked myself into his office in only a T-shirt and begged him to fuck me. His eyes sported exhausted dark circles below, lips pressed in an annoyed scowl. He was terrifyingly handsome. His brow furrowed now, just as it had then, but then his lips quirked.

"What happened to your hair, princess?"

I ran my fingers through my shorn locks. My hair still reached my shoulders for the most part, give or take a few places where I'd been a little overenthusiastic in the trimming. Chance had laughed as I'd emerged and ruffled the strands before wrapping me up in his arms and kissing me breathless. I wasn't sure what King or Bear would say.

"I cut it," I said, wondering why all my powers of speech seemed to want to evaporate in this man's presence.

He arched an eyebrow, still faintly smiling, but didn't say anything else.

"Thought you might want me out on the floor," Chance said. "And Bear said you sent him out to call in a few favors."

King nodded but didn't take his eyes off me.

"Well?" King said, leaning back in his chair. "You gonna stand there, or come over and sit on my lap like a good girl?"

Chance covered his laugh with a cough, and my breath hitched at the question. I turned, pulling Chance in for a quick kiss before he could step away, and he pressed his forehead to mine in answer. When I turned and hurried to King's lap, the alpha had already pushed his seat back, leaving me room.

"Uh-uh," King said, stopping me with a hand on my hip as I started to sit on his thigh. "Face me."

My cheeks warmed as I turned in place, and the office door clicked shut behind Chance. King's thighs were spread wide, and he was languid in his chair, staring up at me from those heavy-lidded, ice-chip eyes. He scooted in so his knees touched the drawers of his desk, trapping me between them. Meaning I had to raise my legs up one at a time to climb over him, an act which he watched with determined fascination.

I was wearing silk sleep shorts and a shirt that almost completely covered them, with slits along the hips to make movement easy. King's hands slid up under the shirt, grasping hotly around my waist as I settled on his lap. The fabric of my outfit was thin and cool and did little to disguise the hard lines and rough contrast of King as he pulled me into his chest, the patches and leather vest he wore rubbing through silk to my skin.

I arched my neck, preparing for his mouth to start rooting for skin to bite or lick, but instead his nose pressed to my throat. He breathed in and out, slow and deep, the sigh sagging his chest beneath mine. His hands slid down to my ass but he didn't grip, just held me in place.

"Can't decide if I'm glad these suppressants stifle your scent or if I hate them for it," King muttered into my throat, the scruff of his beard tickling and drawing a shiver out of me.

I shimmied on his lap, and he grunted but didn't take the bait, so I simply pressed my own face into his shoulders.

"They dull my sense of smell too," I admitted.

This isn't arm's length, I thought as King held me against him, seemingly content to breathe me in. And the longer we remained wrapped up like this, the easier it was to believe King wanted me here. Not just on his lap nearing midnight while a party raged in the bar, but in general. That I hadn't used our biology to lure him into fucking me.

"What you said earlier about pack—"

King sighed, but this time the sound was weary and his face lifted from my skin, head falling back against his chair. I sat up a little to stare at him.

"What makes claiming an old lady different from claiming an omega?" I asked, pleased with myself for not whining. It felt like the sound had been constantly trapped in my mouth during the heat, and if there was anyone I wanted to show that I was more than a whining, needy omega, it was King.

"You know what," King said.

I chewed on my lip, holding his stare, not feeling the cold prick of it at the moment. Not when he was so close and quiet and his hands were still cupping my ass. "Old ladies never get bonds?"

King's gaze skirted away briefly, jaw ticking, but it returned and he was relaxed again. "Princess…" he started. My eyes rolled automatically and he stilled. "Oh, you got a problem with that pet name, huh? Butterfly and birdy are fine, but—"

I huffed, face hot, but I wasn't the terrified, trapped creature in the cage now, and I wasn't the bundle of sex and hormones from the heat either. I was Faith, and I could argue with this man sensibly. I could tell him the truth too. He'd proved as much so far.