She didn’t step aside as I passed her.
“Make sure to wash off his stench,” she said as I turned awkwardly to pass her without making physical contact.
Chapter four
Houses and Bars
When I returned to the bedroom, with a towel wrapped tight around me, there was a set of clothes neatly folded waiting at the foot of the bed.
I shut the door and turned the lock, listening to it click in place. I knew it didn’t provide real safety; Cole could easily break the lock if she wanted, but it did provide privacy.
I walked to the clothing at the end of the bed to investigate it.
A pair of dark blue jeans, a brown belt, and an oversized white cotton top
The jeans were too long and hung loosely around my hips. The belt was necessary. I rolled the cuffs of the jeans and pulled on the white top.
It felt good to be fully dressed, covered, even if everything was the wrong size.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Are you dressed?” Cole asked on the other side of the door.
I unlocked the door and opened it.
Cole casually leaned against the doorframe and slowly looked me up and down. She had changed into a grey sweater and light blue jeans; it was minimal but elegant.
She exhaled through her nose and stood straight.
“It’s a bit… oversized,” I said, self-consciously under her gaze.
“I like seeing you in my clothes,” Cole replied matter-of-factly and closed the space between us.
“W—what?” I asked.
“You’re my omega,” she said, and it felt like she towered over me, like the oversized clothing made me smaller. “It shouldn’t be surprising that I’m pleased by the sight of you wearing anything that signals my claim.”
The explanation was delivered coldly.
“Yeah, well, not for long, right?” I said.
“Hmm,” she hummed and stepped back, allowing me space to breathe. “I’m taking you to meet Alan, our facilities manager. He’ll find something in housekeeping for you to do while you’re here.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“After, you’ll accompany me to a client lunch,” she said as she turned and began walking down the hallway, gesturing for me to follow. “Chloe should be here any moment with a pair of trainers in your size,” she told me.
“How do you know my shoe size?” I asked as we descended the stairs.
“I checked the pair of broken heels you left outside the bathroom,” Cole answered.
“Oh.”
Ashford had never been so proactive with my needs. Most of the clothing I owned was what I had when he claimed me. The only new items I had were chosen by him to match his standards as his omega. His father’s money paid for the dresses, heels,lingerie, and makeup, but other than how I looked, I would be willing to place my own bet that Ashford had no idea what size shoe or dress I wore. He didn’t care. So long as I wasn’t fat. He was strict about that; I had to look good beside him. I had lost weight; everything that was mine was looser than was comfortable.
As if on cue, Chloe opened the front door and entered with a shoebox under one arm.
