Page 48 of Heat Lightning

Oh, yes, my omega purred. Keeping that zipped up is such a waste. We’ll suck him until he comes and then⁠—

“Fuck,” the Masked Man cut in, blessedly interrupting that train of thought. “The way you smell—it makes me crazy,” he groaned, shuffling away. He bee-lined for the open window, sticking his head out like a golden retriever on a road trip.

I was still too dazed to think of a good Lassie joke. What a shame.

Then the last few minutes crashed into me.

“Oh, my God. We just—I just—We can’t do this. This can’t be happening,” I babbled, palming my face.

I’d lost my mind. We nearly fucked in the pantry while Donna, the very lovely cleaning lady, vacuumed a few feet away. Locked in that tiny space together, the heat haze took over, and I completely lost control.

I wasn’t ready for this—my mind wasn’t made up yet. I didn’t want to fall into something with the Masked Man just because I had to and come out the other side of it even worse off.

I needed time. I needed to choose, not just slip into it like before.

But there we were. Why had I ever thought getting this back would be fun? It wasn’t. It was like being in that pulsing room all over again—like Joey was right next to me, mocking me for falling for his tricks all over again.

Slimy shame swallowed me whole.

I hated it. I hated it so much I wanted to claw his laughing, conniving face off. I wanted to punish him. I needed to see true terror in his eyes, the kind that made him piss himself before it was all over.

I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to me.

My breath started coming in quick, shallow bursts.

“Hey.” The Masked Man was back in front of me in a second, hands on my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath.”

I did, and got a mouthful of that delicious, calming scent. It was easy to blame the way I melted into him on those pheromones, but I wasn’t certain that was entirely true. Even still, I didn’t resent it.

Cupping his hands over mine, he gently pulled them away from my face before brushing off my tears with his thumb. “How about another?”

More alpha pheromones made me feel like I was floating in one of those zero-stimulation baths. It was so odd. The idea of losing control during my heat sent me into a panic, but being near him, touching him, didn’t.

After what just happened in the pantry, I thought all I’d be capable of was lust. But that wasn’t at all what he made me feel right now. His scent wasn’t that of an alpha chasing an omega in heat. It was… caring. Real caring; the kind he couldn’t fake or manufacture or bottle.

Which might be even scarier, if I were honest.

After a few deep breaths, I collected myself enough to speak. The omega in me wailed when I stepped away from him, shaking off his hold.

“Sorry for—sorry,” I said, unable to meet his eye. “My symptoms just started earlier today. I didn’t realize I was so far in, well, you know.” Face beet red, I continued, “But I’m not—I mean, I’m not ready to⁠—”

“Max—”

“I know this sucks for you,” I continued. Fuck, he probably hated me for making him wait longer. “I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long. I know it’s probably hard to be around me, so you should just go. Don’t worry about my wall. I’ll tell my boss I was moving furniture, and I’ll pay someone to repair it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Are you done?”

That pulled me out of my wallowing pit. “Excuse me?”

“Are you done speaking over me?”

I considered. “I think so. Yes. For now.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to clean myself up and fix your wall, and you’re going to put some clothes on. For my sanity. Then we’ll discuss our circumstances.”

I crossed my arms, frowning. “I just said⁠—”

“Sweetheart,” he cut in. “Do you really want me to go?”