“What? No. I’m sorry, Julius baby,” she blathers, crocodile tears immediately forming along her inner lashes. “What can I do to fix this? How can I make it better?”
The determined little fucker in my pants twitches when I make eye contact with the redhead again. She spears me with a glare, and fuck, if it doesn’t turn me on even more. I’m used to women throwing themselves at me, happily flirting with disaster, and willing to do whatever I ask. So, either Nunnya has no clue who I am.Ridiculous.Or I’ve met the one woman in Nashville who’s unimpressed by Julius Keene.
“How about you take care of this?” I bring the beta’s hand to my erection, and she coos with delight, happy to be my little fuck bunny. She slides her fingers under the waistband of my sweatpants, grabbing my cock eagerly, but her hand is too dry; there’s no lubrication. And Alphas only want it wet. Dripping.
With my hand around the nape of her neck, I tighten my grip and tug her downward. “No, with your mouth.”And then I won’t have to hear your voice again, either.
“Julius, we’re in public,” she giggles, licking her lips. Her nipples poke through her top, showing how turned-on she is by the idea of public sex. “How naughty!”
“Get me off before our breakfast arrives and I’ll give you a WAG ticket to the next game.” Her gasp is enough to reinflate my ego, and then, like the good little puck bunny she is, Fanny slithers her way under the table. Seconds later, her hot, wet mouth engulfs my shaft.
The blonde bobs up and down, slobbering on my dick, but it’s good enough. All the while, I track Nunnya’s every movement across the diner, watching her dance from table to table, gathering dishes and delivering others with a smile. Damn, she’s beautiful, a challenge and temptation wrapped up in a fiery-red bow. Searching, I find no hint of a wedding ring—not that it would be a deal breaker—and certainly nothing on her neck resembling pack bites.
As though she can feel my eyes on her, she glances over to the table, jaw dropping when she notices the BJ going on underit. If looks could kill, I’d be dead, but it only heightens my lust. Reaching down, I grip the blonde’s hair and shove her more forcefully down on my aching shaft. She gags a little, but doesn’t protest. The noise sends a thrill through me, and I do it again while watching the sexy redhead glare at me. I lift my hips and use the puck bunny’s hair to increase the pace, just like I need. With two more pumps, I come down her throat with a muted grunt, never letting my gaze stray from the emerald-green orbs eviscerating me.
“Swallow every fucking drop,” I demand, pinning her head down as her throat works hard to keep up. And when I’m finally done, I let go of her hair and give her a pat on the head before slipping my cock back into my sweatpants.
“I did it, right?” she asks breathlessly, sliding back into the seat next to mine. Her lips are bright red, coated with my sticky essence, and seeing the evidence of my public tryst makes my stomach churn. “I get a Julius Keene WAG ticket?”
Before I can respond, our infuriated server slams three huge to-go bags onto the table.
“Here’s your order. You can pay upfront,” she hisses at us; irritation pouring from every word. “Get out before I call the police on you. Absolutely vile. This is a family establishment. There are children eating.”
She scolds me, and while it turns me on, it also pisses me the hell off. I’m Julius fucking Keene, no one gets to talk to me like that—not anymore. I’ve paid my dues, worked my ass off, and now I make more money than God. I can do whatever the hell I want.
“You’d better get those unpacked and plated.” Sitting back, I fold my arms over my chest, like the immovable prick I am. My voice grows louder, catching the attention of the diner’s owner, a short, potbellied beta, who scurries over immediately.
“I absolutely will not,” Nunnya replies, not realizing her boss is already on the way. “You should leave and never come back.”
The owner’s face blanches at her loud and rash declaration. Most of the other diners have stopped eating to watch the commotion unfolding.
Shit, this is getting out of hand.
“Phoenix, you’re fired,” the owner shouts, and it catches me by surprise. I thought she would get in trouble, but I never expected it would be this extreme.
“But, Chris,” Nunnya, now Phoenix, objects, her mouth dropping in shock. “He was… They were…”
“Do you know who that is? I don’t care what they’re doing,” he cuts her off. “You’re causing a scene with a VIP in my restaurant. You’re gone. Gather your things. There will be no final paycheck.”
Tears spring into her emerald-green eyes, and with a choked sob, Phoenix makes a beeline toward the back of the building. I want to follow her, my inner Alpha, pushing me to make this right.
What started as gentle goading, and maybe even a little flirting on my part, got beyond out of hand. As always, I can’t stop myself before things turn bad. Guilt flares to life, a tangled knot in my gut that makes it hard to think.
“Hey, man, you don’t need to fire her,” I try to plead her case, but the owner just chuckles and flaps his hands.
“Nah, Mr. Julius. It’s for the best. Omegas are too hormonal for this kind of work. Now, what was your order? Let me get you re-served. And, of course, it’s all on the house.”
He babbles on, but my brain is stuck on one word, and it pulses on repeat in my head.
Omega. Omega. Omega.
What have I done?
Chapter Six
Vonn
“Idid it. I’m here. Two minutes to spare. Boom!” Julius flies into Marilyn’s office, throwing down his fingers, then raising them in excitement.
