“You make us sound dirty,” Cyn grumbles unhappily.
“Oh, do I?”
We wait for her apology. She’s silent for a long moment and then shrugs her shoulders.
“Well, let’s get going, then.”
I gape at her as she turns and marches away, her ponytail swinging in a maddening arc. I want to chase her. That was so incredibly hot.
“This is not going to go well,” Cyn says from beside me, but I can see how excited he is. He wants to pounce her, too.
Vale approaches and stands beside us. “At least she’s going to make it easy to avoid her.”
I make a shrill sound in the back of my throat as I fight back laughter.
Vale’s eyes drop to the front of my pants; he scoffs. “Really?”
“It was hot.”
“You are sick, Kota,” Cyn hisses.
I bite my lip and hurry after this strangely interesting omega. Every omega I’ve ever met has always been simpering saccharine to us, but to have her snark, her disdain, her obvious disinterest, it’s like waving a little toy mouse on a string in front of a cat. I can’t help it. And the fact that those ridiculous shirts hide the curves of her body just makes me want to peel it off so I can get a better look. Her ass is a masterpiece that I’d take up poetry just so I could write a sonnet over it.Do you think she would let me do an inspection?
I need to chase it, this feeling, her.
My mouth waters imagining her taste. What is her scent? It’s a barely there memory that I can never quite catch.How could I have forgotten it?
“No, no, no. Don’t do that, Kota. Do not obsess over this…” Cyn whispers the word, “omega.”
“I’m not.”
Cyn raises a brow and trips over a branch. I laugh, and she looks back, drawn by the sound of my voice. Oh, god, her eyes, those plump lips. Everything about her is a siren call.
Rory appears out of nowhere and yanks Cyn up. “Get it together.”
Cyn mutters something, but I’m too busy trying to catchup with the snarky omega.
“She’s hot,” a voice in front says with a tone that makes me want to crush him dead.
I slow my steps, my eyes drilling into the back of Rojer Wayne’s skull. I don’t like him even thinking about her. He’s a tall, handsome alpha with black hair, a head for business, and a nasty little habit that he thinks no one knows about. But I know.
Beside him, in a white polo top and shorts that are too tight and too small, is Kevin Young. He’s in his thirties, with a receding hairline and a pathological need to be liked by Rojer. The only thing that surpasses that desire is his temper.
The third of their sick triangle is Nathan Haze, who is a striking brunette with dark brown eyes, and I’m sure is a sociopath. He has no mercy or remorse for clients and workers alike. Everything comes back to increasing the dollar.
She doesn’t notice them watching her.
But I do.
When Rojer glances back, I smile happily and shoot past them, catching up to Rory. Who moves as easily on the trail as he does in the city.
“Roar?”
He glances sideways, those unnatural green eyes hitting me with all his annoyance. “I hope you’re all happy. There is, like, sun and shit.” He’s bitching, but his eyes are on our omega, assessing, planning.
I smile at his pure unhappiness. Rory loves the modern conveniences, showers, bug spray, technology, his very discreet staff, and his bikes.
“All this air causing an allergic reaction? Are you dying?”
