If he has managed to keep this announcement secret from our Queen of Gossip, then he deserves to come later.
If he begs.
Because having a dominant Alpha beg ismysecret kink.
Well, maybe it’s not that secret to Icarus, after how much I’ve been indulging in it this year.
Gossip is the heart blood of a hotel. Luckily, most of the gossip is about the guests, which is the reason that Lashonda hasn’t caught on about Icarus and my entanglement yet.
Since virtually every Omega on the staff is in love with the Alpha General Manager who protects them, then it provides me with a good cover anyway.
“Guess what I found out today?” Lashonda leans down to whisper. “The Traditional trust fund heir who brought his pack with him on the second floor…? Kinky as fuck.”
I quirk my brow. “How’d you know?”
“Ms. Fields.” Lashonda waves at a woman in her fifties with tanned skin, a severe gray bob, and deep lines around her eyes. She is the only Beta who is standing smartly to attention at the front of the basement. Ms. Fields is the Head Housekeeper and my boss. Ms. Fields waves back with a faint smile. “You know how easily she’s bribed with Zoe cuddles to tell me about the guests’ rooms.”
“Don’t use my daughter for bribes. But also, what did Ms. Fields tell you?”
“The trust fund heir must have forgotten about housekeeping because he left out all these sex toys, including these rare kinky Beta dildos without knots, anal beads, and an entire wolf furry costume complete with muzzle.”
I blink. “Did not see that coming.”
“Poor Ms. Fields would have seenhimcoming if?—”
“Yep, thanks for the visual. Got it.”
I glance around at the basement garage, which is lit by bright spotlights on the supercars.
It’s warmer here than inside the Omega dorms.
The echoing basement garage is the only place that is large enough to hold all the staff at once.
It is more luxurious than the staff quarters. After all, the guests’ babies — BMWs, Porsches, and Bugattis — must have somewhere comfortable and safe to sleep or their owners would worry, right?
The floor is glistening, porcelain, and the far wall is fitted with charging points and extraction systems for the fumes. The walls are painted an elegant ivory.
Michah is stretched out on the bonnet of a yellow Ferrari like he’s a model at a showroom.
I wince, when Michah casually runs his nail along the car.
Then I shrug.
Only Alphaholes drive yellow Ferraris. It’s a rule.
Chris, the tall, sweet pastry chef, lies as close to Michah as she dares. Her hair is short and brunette, and her emerald eyes are filled with such adoration, while Michah chats to her about his day, that I wonder if anyone by now hasn’t worked out how much in love they are.
They need to be careful.
But then, so do Icarus and I.
Suddenly, Lashonda sniffs my hair. “Unless your scent has changed since the last time I saw you, you have mashed banana in your hair.”
“Shit.” I pull away from her, patting at the top of my head. “Zoe ate it for lunch or more accurately, hurled it at me. Her aim has improved. She’s in her throwing stage.”
Apparently, it’s not only Alphas that she is now targeting.
Maybe I have the first future Omega shot-putter on my hands; Zoe has the strength.
