Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(13)

I was alone in the elevator on my way down, when it stopped two floors below mine, doors parting.

Oh god, please no.

As if I’d conjured him by thought, standing in front of me was the handsome beta whom I’d run from just days ago. He was stepping inside the elevator, facing me directly, even as his eyes grew wide with shock and recognition.

“You—” he gasped before he was cut off.

“Lola!” Cyrus was at the beta’s back, and the only possible worse thing than ending up in an elevator with this beta for fifty floors was the new reality of the four men entering the carriage.

I would be in this elevator with my handsome stranger beta, my boss, his boss Matthieu, and another unfamiliar alpha. Already my heart was pounding, knees buckling, and I slid toward the corner, my arms folding around my stomach protectively. Cyrus was speaking to me, or speaking about me, but all I could hear was rushing, gusting wind—no, my pounding pulse. My lungs were frozen, refusing to take a breath, and the unfamiliar alpha—tall and blonde and classically handsome—brushed against my shoulder, making me shudder and press against the wall.

Suddenly the sound of the elevator was crisp again, Cyrus’ honeyed tone falling to silence as four pairs of eyes fixed to my trembling form.

“Lola?”

The beta’s hand raised and stopped Cyrus from stepping closer at the same time Matthieu’s did.

“Give her space,” the beta said. The alpha who’d brushed against me backed away with the others to the opposite wall.

Hold her down. I tried to swallow down the tangled trap of memories rising up.

A high-pitched ringing in my head burned in my ears and then settled, revealing the soft, low whine vibrating in my throat. The elevator was cloying and heavy with alpha scents—sticky champagne and smooth velvet warmth and something heavy and sweet.

“Lola,” the beta whispered, stepping between me and the alphas.

“Leo,” the blonde alpha warned in a gentle tone but stopped as the beta’s hand went up to quiet him.

“You’re all right,” the beta said softly.

“Look at her, fuckin’ desperate for that knot isn’t she?” he hissed, laughing as he watched Indy push my thighs back and open until I cried out at the pain of the stretch.

“She’s gonna fuckin’ scream for it? Aren’t you, Showgirl?”

I swallowed, turned away from the men in the elevator, darkness flickering over my gaze, and pressed one hand to the polished gold interior of the elevator, trying to brace myself against their voices, Buzz and Indy. The alphas who’d toyed with me for weeks before I’d run from them. My own reflection was clear in the metal, wide-eyed and shaking, the warped shadows of the men at my back twisting on gold.

Be normal. Control. Get your shit together, you fucking idiot. I swallowed my next whimper, fixing my gaze to the corner of the floor where I couldn’t see any of the men out of the corner of my eyes or in the reflection.

Again, darkness flickered, but this time I realized it wasn’t my memories or my panic attack.

“Oh Jesus, not now,” muttered one of the men.

It was the fucking power in the building.

The elevator jerked, and my already weak knees gave up. I slid to the floor as the lights flashed and the elevator stopped.

I whimpered against the bare pillow, rocking my hips back as if I could force Buzz deeper.

“You think you get my knot? You think you deserve that? You’re a fuckin’ beta, Lo,” he laughed, skirting back from me. “God, look at you, tryin’ to bare your fuckin’ throat for me. Don’t think so, babe. You’re just ass.”

“Lola, take a deep breath for me.”

“Open wide, bitch, that’s it.”

The small space was full of burnt marshmallow and pine sap, and I gagged, jerking as a warm hand brushed over the back of my neck.

“It’s just me,” the beta, Leo, murmured. “You’re safe.”

“Oh no. You’re not getting away. You wanted a knot, you’re fucking getting one.”

Breathe. Breathe, idiot. But I couldn’t, all the air had gone out of the space and I was surrounded by alphas, no matter what Leo said about being safe. I clawed at the smooth tile of the floor, another thin whine squeezing out from behind my clench teeth.

“Caleb.”

“I don’t think I sh—”

“Caleb,” Leo repeated, voice sharper.

Fingers bruising around my wrists. Teeth snapping and grinding and pinching skin, but never biting. The horrible pressure of their smells and their bodies. Hadn’t it been sweet for a few days? When had it stopped feeling good?

I thrashed as I was pulled into a pair arms, one hand digging—

—Pulling hard at my hair as I sobbed—

And tucking my head against a warm throat.

A hand clamped over my nose and mouth, muffling my voice until I couldn’t even breathe.

Gentle warmth coated my throat like syrup as that dense, soft scent turned me limp and languid…

Trying to catch my breath on the lumpy bed, tears and spit wetting the sheet beneath my cheek. It was time to go, wasn’t it?

“You’re mine now, Showgirl.”





I woke, my head pounding, my body aching like I’d strained every muscle all at once, and there was the beta.