I am wrecked. I got home and peeled off my wet panties and then stood in my tiny little shower until the water went cold. Not to wash him off like I usually did after being fucked by an alpha. I was just so cold. And then I lay in my nest with the curtains drawn, curled up as tight as possible, trying to figure out what the fuck happened.
My plan had been to seduce the hockey player and then… fuck, I don’t even know at this point. Ruin his pack somehow? I didn’t expect whatever the hell that was.
I stir the coffee, watching the ripples swirl on the surface. Estelle leans in, eyes wide and hungry for details. The diner is dead except for two old men in a booth, both pretending not to listen.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
“Sure, babe.”
“But you can’t get all weird about it, okay?”
I take a sip of the coffee and then reach for the little creamers. Papa never let me have coffee, and I’m still not sure I like it. “I know you’re a beta and all, but it can’t be that different. Is…”
The bell to the front door jingles, and we both turn to see an alpha with a backpack hanging off his shoulder. He gives us a nod, his eyes raking over me, then moves to the far end of the counter. I get that gross pit in my tummy.
I lower my voice. “Is sex supposed to be that good?”
Estelle’s smile is blinding. “Ooh, girl, that hockey player did you right, huh?”
I shush her, like the customers in the diner are listening. Thank god this is the lull before the lunch rush starts.
Estelle’s face gets serious for a moment, like she’s figured something out about me.
“You’re an omega. I was under the general belief that all sex was good for omegas.”
“Well, you know,” I say. “When you’re in heat, it’s all… So…” I can’t quite get the words out. “It’s just a need, and it doesn’t have to be good to satisfy that need.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Like, he went down on me. Alphas don’t do that.”
Estelle pauses. I can see her grinding her teeth for some reason.
I rush to fill the dead space between us. The air behind the register smells like burned coffee and cleaning spray, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of how loud the milk steamer is.
“Alphas don’t usually do that when they are—” I blurt, then stop, because where was I even going with that? I can’t say what I’m thinking, not to Estelle, not to anyone. I let it hang in the air, try to swallow it down with a sip of coffee. “You know, the alphas that p…”
Estelle watches me, her eyes narrowing just a little, the way they do when she’s about to call Kai out on his busboy bullshit. “Do what?”
“I don’t know. It was… good.” I say it so quietly, I’m not sure she hears, but of course she does.
“Yeah, sex is supposed to be that good. Especially with someone who isn’t a total douchebag.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t know.”
She shrugs and starts wiping down the counter, but she’s still watching me. “Some people—doesn’t matter their designation—don’t like giving oral. Frankly, that’s selfish and rude. It’s an immediate red flag,” she adds, eyebrow arched so high it’s practically in her hairline.
I glance over at the alpha with the backpack, studiously scrolling through his phone while he waits to be acknowledged. Estelle ignores him.
“What do you mean, red flag?” I ask.
She tosses the rag aside. “Oral is a good indicator of what someone wants out of sex, out of a relationship. It’s about getting pleasure from giving pleasure. If you can’t get off on your partner getting off, well…” She flicks her fingers, dismissive. “Not worth your time.”
“Oh,” I say, and it comes out dumb, but it’s all I’ve got. My phone dings, and I pull it out of my apron pocket. There’s a text.
Beckett:
Good morning
My stomach flips, and I hate that it does.
“He wants to see me again,” I say, not meaning to, but Estelle hears everything.
