Page 20 of Forbidden Taste (An Omega’s Preference #3)

fifteen

HAWK

A heavy breath falls from my lips as I bow my head beneath the hot stream of water, my muscles screaming from the long dance routine we ran tonight.

Every leap, every turn, every damn lift has left me aching, my body a tangle of tight knots and bruised joints.

I tip my head back, letting the spray hit my face, trying to rinse away the mess in my mind—rehearsals, finals, the looming offer from the Karlen Center—but it’s no use.

The worst part isn’t the exhaustion; it’s the whiff of scent that plugged my nose on the way back to my dorm, a mixture of sharp and sweet, taking over my thoughts.

Apple pie and honey, twined together, lingering in the main hall where there shouldn’t have been anyone at this hour.

It hit me hard and I’d spent the whole walk back trying to adjust myself, my cock straining against my tights, praying none of my friends noticed the flush creeping up my neck.

I’m one of the few Alphas in the modern dance course who isn’t teaching or hoisting pretty little Omegas and Betas into the air, and I’ve taken enough shit for it but this is my last year, and with Karlen waiting, I don’t give a damn what they think.

Except right now, my mind’s in an entirely different orbit, spinning around that mingled scent.

It’s two people, distinct but fused, my body responding like it’s never done before.

My Alpha instincts flare, a low growl rumbling in my chest as I reach down, my hand wrapping around my cock, the water slicking my grip.

I stroke myself, slow at first, then faster, imagining those scents smothering me. My forehead presses against the cool tile wall, the contrast sharp against my heated skin, and I fuck my hand, chasing that imagined warmth until I’m spilling down the drain, a groan tearing from my throat.

I squeeze the base, putting pressure around my knot, and the pleasure explodes through me, shuddering down my spine but it’s not enough as the water washing away the evidence.

There’s only so many times in a life you catch a mate’s scent—rarer still to find a true scent match—and yet, somehow, tonight, I’ve stumbled across two.

Two Omegas, their scents twined in a way that’s got my blood singing, my instincts clawing at me to find them, claim them.

I shut off the shower, the sudden silence heavy, and step out, water dripping from my dark hair, my skin still flushed as I grab a towel.

I barely get it around my waist, the fabric clinging to my damp hips, when the door bangs open, and I jolt, worried that one of my roommates will pick up the frazzled thoughts running through my head.

“Hey.” Jace pushes inside, oblivious to my state. “Your phone’s been buzzing off the hook. Seems like someone really needs an Alpha.” He smirks as he places my phone on the bathroom counter, tossing me a look before ducking back out.

My gaze drops the lit up screen, a number I know all too well scrolling across it.

My heart isn’t in it today, even if just for the fact that I want to just crawl into my bed and pass out.

So, I dismiss the call with a swipe, the screen going dark, and turn to the mirror, catching my reflection in the dim light of my dorm bathroom.

A lazy grin tugs at my lips as I take in the man staring back—smaller than most Alphas, sure, but pretty in a way I’ve always liked.

Wet strands of black hair hang over my eyes, dripping onto my forehead, and muscles ripple beneath my bronze skin, lean and defined from years of pushing my body to its limits.

I’m not the hulking stereotype, but I’m enough, not to mention the pretty part is just another piece of my charm.

The phone buzzes again but I decline it again.

The center can find another Alpha. I can’t be the only one ready to help an Omega in heat at this hour, right?

My phone buzzes again but this time it’s from Delilah, the owner of the Rent-an-Alpha service.

She never calls unless it’s an emergency.

I sigh and swipe to answer. "Hey, Delilah. Blowing up my phone, really?”

“Yes,” she snaps, her tone all business, no patience for my teasing. “This one’s a premium client. He’s in heat now and they tend to be painful. You’re the closest Alpha and the only one responding.”

I shift, running a hand down my face. “Yeah, sure, but I think this might be one of the last ones, D. I’m graduating soon, and I know I started this for a reason, but…” I trail off not sure how to finish that sentence. Delilah knows exactly why I started this side gig.

“I get it, okay?” Delilah says, understanding threading through her voice.

“Everyone phases out of the program eventually—whether for a mate or just moving on. Right now, though, I need your ass across campus. I’m messaging you the address.

” She hangs up before I can argue, the line going dead, and I stare at the blank screen, my breath catching as it buzzes again—a text with a name and location that makes my jaw drop.

There’s no fucking way. Riley Hart . The golden Omega of the academy, the one whose name’s on every music major’s lips, just went into heat.

I blink at the screen, several times, my mind racing.

And then it’s like everything hits me all at once—the tangled Omega scents from the hallway, the rumors of Riley falling prey to the whims of another Omega, and that gorgeous Omega who’s both terrifying and alluring all at once.

There’s no fucking way that this just landed in my lap, right?

It makes sense Riley would be a premium client with the money his parents shell out at everything.

However, he has an Alpha, right? None of this makes any sense but instincts are yelling at me to at least check out the situation and make sure Riley is safe.

It takes me all of five minutes to yank on clothes, a black shirt and pair of jeans lounging on the side of my bed.

I shoot off a message to my advisor, letting them know I’ll be unavailable for the next few days.

It’s the one saving grace about this academy, as stuck up as it is.

Our lessons tend to be private with our professors outside of classes.

Senior year is about perfection and in turn means that so long as we log in the hours each week, it doesn’t matter when we do.

“Now, that that’s done,” I mutter to myself, grabbing my phone and wallet before shuffling outside and through the courtyard.

My phone buzzes again, a message through the center’s app offering a few details about Riley and how I should best ease him through his heat.

Unfortunately, unlike most of the Omega profiles I’ve come across, this one is sparse and leaves way too much unsaid.

Doesn’t want to be manhandled, can be mouthy during heats

I snort softly, picturing the golden Omega of the academy snapping back mid-heat, all fire and defiance. Then there’s another text, this one directly from Delilah.

Might be another mate in the room

My steps falter, just for a second, my chest tightening as it confirms what I’d suspected—that it is the two Omegas everyone’s been talking about, everyone trashing on the larger one, saying he coerced Riley into something.

Leo, I think his name is? I’m not sure. Either way, I hasten my steps a little, feeling the urgency to soothe Riley through his heat.

After all, that’s my job. Help them through one of the most confusing, terrifying moments of being an Omega and then leave once the job is done.

However, if they really are mates… would I be overstepping by going into Riley’s space?

Would Leo be territorial? My heart sinks into my stomach, suddenly running through all the possible ways that this could go wrong.

I took up this gig years ago, a misguided atonement for my sister’s death—Alphas too rough, too careless, leaving her beaten and bruised while I was away that weekend.

I came back to her silence, her absence, and it broke me.

Raged against the system, got those three bastards locked up, but it didn’t fill the hole, didn’t quiet the guilt gnawing at my heart.

The rent-an-Alpha service became my penance—helping Omegas who didn’t have anyone, giving them what I couldn’t give her.

It passed the time, dulled the ache, but over the past year, my heart’s drifted out of it, restless and searching for something more.

And now I know why—that goddamn scents I caught earlier, because that wasn’t the first time.

I’ve smelled them before, separately, faint traces over months that I brushed off, but tonight, together, it’s like a punch to the gut, waking every Alpha instinct I’ve tried to bury.

A possessive growl rumbles low in my throat as I step into the apartment building, my boots echoing in the stairwell.

It takes no time to reach Riley’s apartment as I knock, my mind a mess of guilt and want, and I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into.

Then the door swings open, and the world tilts, my knees nearly buckling under the weight of what I see.

The most beautiful Omega I’ve ever laid eyes on stands there—tall, broad, completely naked, his skin flushed a deep pink, sweat plastering bright orange hair to his freckled face.

His sea-green eyes lock on mine, staring down at me from his height, and it’s like heaven in a bottle—spiced apple pie rolling off him, hitting me square in the chest. My cock twitches, my knot pulsing, and I clench my fists, restraining myself from doing something stupid—like reaching out, pulling him close, burying my face in that scent and never letting go.

I clear my throat, managing a small smile. “I’m Hawk.”