Page 29 of The Boss Omega
It's strange waking up in my nest knowing two alphas are sleeping in my living room. Strange and, if I'm being honest with myself, which I try not to be before coffee, not entirely unwelcome. I make myself presentable, grab the ibuprofen, and head out to face whatever this morning is.
Silas is already awake. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against a chair rubbing a kink from his neck. I wordlessly hand him the bottle. He traps my hand in his and kisses it. “Thank you, little bird.”
I press my thighs tightly together. There’s an ache there that has nothing to do with my impending heat.
I turn and look at my second alpha. He’s still asleep, one arm thrown across his face. His long legs dangle awkwardly from the too-short couch. “It looks like someone was able to sleep, at least.”
Silas grunts. “He stayed up for hours after you went to bed. I threatened to suffocate him with a pillow to get him to be quiet.”
I giggle. Last night I learned that Graham is a pharmaceutical scientist and holder of dozens of patents, including my low-dose omega birth control. It’s a serious job for what I now know is a seriously powerful brain. But despite all that, he’s also incredibly sweet, and—I struggle for the right way to describe him. Innocent isn’t the right word. No one who talks like he did last night is innocent.
Pure, my omega suggests.
Yes. That's the word. Sweet, kind, hopeful. Pure in a way that should be annoying but somehow isn't. Something delicate blooms in my chest and I decide not to look at it too closely yet.
“Want some coffee?” I ask.
Silas stands and pulls me into his chest. “First, I want this.” He kisses me. It’s gentle and unassuming. A kiss for the sake of kissing.
He smells like sleep and whiskey and honey, stronger somehow in the morning. The night stripped everything else away and left just him.
“I’m next, beautiful,” Graham says from his place on the couch.
Silas releases me and I turn to accept my morning kiss from Graham. I could get used to this. When we break apart, he rubs his thumb along my cheek. “I dreamed about you.”
“Was it good?” I whisper. I had dreamed of him, too. And Silas. Wild, powerful dreams that had me waking up with an ache to invite them into my nest.
“So good,” he says. “You were in our kitchen, beside me while Silas fixed supper.”
I lean in and kiss his cheek. “I’m making coffee. Want some?”
He and Silas follow me into the kitchen. I punch a few buttons on the machine and wait while it grinds the beans and starts the automatic drip process. A rustling sound comes from the living room and both my alphas tense.
“Stand behind me, Lark,” Graham orders. His voice drops into something dangerous, a register I never could have imagined coming from him. My omega doesn't find it surprising, though. She sits up straight and pays attention.
Silas moves forward. “Stay here.”
I open my mouth to warn him that it’s just Cammie when she barrels directly into his chest as he rounds the corner, all five feet two inches of her, dressed in a sunshine yellow tracksuit with neon green sneakers.
“Oomph!”He grabs her shoulders to prevent her fall.
My omega bristles, a hot, unreasonable flash of possessiveness.
It's just Cammie,I chide her. She doesn't believe me, but she backs off.
Barely.
“You must be the big one,” Cammie says. She looks him up and down before adding, “She didn’t tell me about the tats. She has a thing for that.”
I melt directly into the floor. The floor, unfortunately, does not accept me.
Silas suppresses a smirk. “I’m Silas.” He extends his hand to her.
She shakes it. “Hi, Silas. I’m Lark’s best friend, Cammie.”
“I’m Graham,” my tall guy says from my side. He still has his arm protectively over my shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. She lives downstairs and drops by often, but I didn’t expect her to crash this morning. Especially since she knew I just met my mates.
