Thespikehitsateleven forty-seven in the middle of a Tuesday while I'm cross-referencing shell company registrations at the window seat in Dominic's office.
A cramp tears through my abdomen so violently that my laptop slides off my knees and hits the carpet. My hands grip the edges of the window seat and my teeth clamp together so hard my jaw aches. Slick floods my panties in a rush, soaking throughthe fabric and into my work pants within seconds. The warmth spreading beneath my thighs tells me the panties have hit their limit.
The executive floor is empty, which means Dominic and Amos are most likely in the boardroom meeting that started at nine, along with Richard. As much as I don’t want to see that Alpha, I needmyAlphas. I head for Dominic’s office anyway on shaking legs, gripping furniture as I go, the cramps rolling through me in waves that buckle my knees every few seconds. I call both Dominic and then Amos, getting their voicemail both times. I text both of them:spike, bad, need you, office.
The phone sits on the desk and doesn't buzz. The boardroom has a no-phones policy that Richard enforces with the rigidity of a man who considers interruptions a personal insult, and both of their devices are probably face-down on the table or silenced in their jacket pockets.
Another wave hits and I double over against the desk with a sound that would embarrass me if anyone were here to hear it. Slick is running down the inside of my thigh now, past the panties, past my pants, and I can smell myself filling the office with a sweetness so thick it's going to seep into the hallway. Every Alpha on this floor is going to know what's happening behind this door within minutes.
"Just breathe," I mutter through my teeth, gripping the desk edge. "Just breathe through it and wait for them to check their phones."
Five minutes pass. The cramps don't ease. They build, each wave cresting higher than the last, my body demanding something my hands can't provide. I've ridden out spikes before but this one is different. This one has teeth. My nervous system has been running hotter every week as the blockers lose their grip, and whatever dam was holding the worst of it back just broke.
I text again:please. now. can't wait.
No response. The boardroom is sealed and my Alphas are trapped inside it with their father and a dozen board members and a no-phones policy and I am going to die at this desk if someone doesn't touch me in the next ten minutes.
The decision makes itself. My body is already moving toward the door before my brain has finished weighing the risks, and by the time I reach the hallway I've stopped caring. Every second it takes for the elevator to arrive is another second I'm just barely holding on, about to pass out. The woman from accounting who steps in on the twelfth floor takes one breath of my scent and steps right back out without a word.
The fourteenth floor hallway stretches ahead of me and I keep one hand on the wall because walking upright requires more coordination than my body can spare. My other hand presses against my stomach where the cramps are centered.
The boardroom doors are closed. Through the frosted glass I can see figures seated around the long table, the blurred shapes of suits and laptops and presentation screens. Richard’s silhouette is at the head. Dominic's is halfway down the right side. Amos is across from him on the left.
I push the doors open.
Every head in the room turns. Twelve board members, two department heads, Richard at the head of the table with a glass of water halfway to his mouth, Dominic mid-sentence with a financial chart projected behind him, Amos with his pen frozen above his notepad. The scent of distressed Omega hits the room like a wave and I watch every Alpha at the table register it in their nostrils at the same time, their postures shifting, their attention redirecting from the presentation to the Omega standing in the doorway with slick on his pants and desperation on his face.
Dominic's expression shifts from surprise to cold fury in under a second, his focus redirecting from the presentation to the room full of Alphas currently breathing in his Omega's scent.
"Everyone out."
The command carries Alpha authority that fills the room and rattles the water glasses on the table. Three board members are on their feet before the second word has finished landing. Chairs scrape back and folders close as the department heads exchange a look and head for the door, giving me a wide berth as they pass.
Richard doesn't move. He stays seated at the head of the table with his water glass in his hand, his eyes fixed on me. His gaze travels from my face to my damp pants, cataloguing everything.
"Everyone." Dominic's voice drops lower. "Out."
The remaining board members file past me through the door, most of them avoiding eye contact. One pauses long enough that Amos' hand finds his shoulder and steers him firmly into the hallway. The room empties until only four people remain. Dominic standing at the presentation screen. Amos beside the door. Richard seated at the head of the table. Me, gripping the doorframe with white knuckles.
He has been dismissed twice in front of his board of directors by his own son, and the look on his face tells me he's already calculating the cost.
He stands slowly and buttons his jacket with unhurried fingers, then walks the length of the boardroom table toward the door where I'm standing, and as he passes me his shoulder brushes mine hard enough that I stumble against the doorframe. His scent hits my nose, hardened with anger that burns through his usual composure.
The door closes behind him. Amos locks it and crosses to the windows, pulling the blinds shut one by one while Dominic closes the distance between us.
"How bad?" His hand finds the back of my neck and the contact sends a shudder through my entire body that makes my knees buckle. He catches me against his chest.
"Bad." My voice comes out strained. "I called. Both of you. It went to voicemail and I couldn't wait, Dominic, I tried to wait and I couldn't."
"You don't need to wait." His mouth presses against my temple. "You come find us. That's what you do."
"I just walked into a board meeting smelling like a heat-struck Omega with slick on my pants." A laugh that's closer to a sob escapes me. "Every Alpha in this company is going to know by lunch."
"Good." Dominic's hand tightens on my neck. "Let them know."
I grab the front of his shirt and pull. The movement isn't graceful or strategic. My fingers tear at his belt while his hands find my hips and lift me onto the boardroom table, scattering the presentation folders and knocking his laptop to the side. My pants come off in a wet tangle that Dominic drops on the floor without looking, the slick panties following.
"I need you inside me right now." The words come out stripped of every filter I own. "I don't care about prep or patience. I need you now or I'm going to scream."
