Page 130 of The Boss Omega
I hadn't questioned it before, but suddenly, in the warm post-sex haze of my nest, the thought hits me like cold water.
Pre-heat hormones, probably.
Still.
"Were you just looking to knot an omega?"
Saint's eyes go wide. "What? Of course not!"
The tears spring to my eyes. Fucking omega hormones are straight shit before a heat. I swipe the offending drops away.
Saint pulls me back down until I’m lying on his chest again. “I swear, princess, it was nothing like that.”
“Then why?”
“Yeah, why?” Graham echoes.
Saint sighs. “I needed the money. I had injured my shoulder and couldn’t work overtime for a while.”
Silas props up on his elbow. “Why do you need money? The pack has plenty.”
I wiggle out of his hold and push myself back up. “Yeah, what do you need money for? From what I’ve seen, our pack is doing well. Very well.”
Saint huffs. “That’s pack money. I wanted my own.”
Graham rolls his eyes. “None of us have our own money, except for Lark. That’s what it means to be pack.”
“I want my money to be pack money, too,” I say. Silas and Graham open their mouths to argue, but I push on. “But why did you need your own money, Saint? What were you planning to do with it?”
Saint sits up, causing his knot to slip out of me. A gush of slick and cum run down my thighs. Silas wipes me clean as Saint begins to pace.
“I used all my savings on my mom’s medical bills. I was trying to replenish them.”
Graham’s eyes go wide. “But why? That’s exactly why we have a pack account.”
Saint runs his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Because she was my mom.” As if that explains it.
“So if I needed money to help Lucy out, you would be upset if I used pack funds?” Silas asks.
Saint stops pacing. “No, of course not. I just—”
Silas holds up his hand. “I know you didn’t grow up in a pack or even around a pack, but this is what packs do. They share. Everything.”
“Money,” Graham says. “The house. An omega. We pack together because we’re family.”
I crawl to the end of the bed, hands held out to Saint. “What were you planning to do with the money? Before your mom, I mean.”
He pulls me to standing. I tuck myself close to his side.
“I’ve always wanted a coffee business.”
“Like a shop?”
Saint shakes his head at Graham’s question. “No, like bagged coffee. Just something small that could be all mine.”
Silas nods. “It’s a good idea. You could work it on your off days and then have a business when it’s time to retire.”
“Exactly. Firefighters retire early, but I’ll still be so young. I’ll want something to do.”
